“Ah really appreciate this, Tyler.”
“No problem, Mrs. Dover, I’m happy to help.”
The voices not bothering to mute themselves as they talked outside of his window dragged him into reality. It was quickly not a fun place to be consider that every muscles in his body was stiff with a dull ache. Whether it was from whatever they shot into his system or just sleeping in the car he still wasn’t sure.
Just getting to the car was more trouble than it was worth, considering that he didn’t even want to travel with her anymore. But for someone reason his body was still on her side. It let her drag him to the car, let her push him none to gently in, and he was even already falling asleep just as she pulled onto the highway. At least he got some satisfaction from the little contort of her face with each ramming of her shoulder into the oak columns.
Before he could get a good look at his surroundings the door he was leaning on suddenly moved away from him. He move to grab something in the car to prevent him from falling out but realized it was unnecessary. A large hand was firmly gripping his upper arm, keeping him the car. His head moved around to find some snot nose kid, a very large snot nose kid, but a kid none of the less in some green monkey suit. And Rogue grinning like the crazed little brat she was behind him.
“Sir, my name’s Tyler. Mrs. Dover asked me to help you to the room,” the boy explained in a coddled, hushed tone and moved to pull him out of the car.
“Hands off, bub,” he snarled, pulling his arm away from him. Now that he was awake and had a look around he could tell they were at some giant hotel or something. In the span of a few minutes that he was conscious a steady stream of people moved in a out of the door, not even giving it a chance to completely close. The girl was definitely up to something.
Shaking his head he decided instead to just concentration getting out of the car and hopefully fucking walking. Because there was no way the Wolverine was going to be carried like a invalid in front of a thousand fucking people.
First he had to get the little punk out of his way. That was easily done with a hard shove followed by ringing of the camper vibrating with the force the kid collided with it. Instantly sharp, intense fear wafted to his nose and it was all he could do not to grin right then. It made him feel a lot better, stronger, like that damn entrance wasn’t as fucking far away as it looked at first.
Easing out of the car he put feet to ground and breathed a quiet sigh of relief that he stayed vertical. He could hear the faint buzzing in his ears of his mutation rearing into overdrive, cleaning out the last bit of the drugs and pumping him full of adrenaline instead.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Rogue smiled impishly as the boy, dusting the phantom particles of dust off his shoulder. “Malt whiskey makes mah brotha a little snippy. Thanks for helpin’, though, sweetheart.”
“Sure...sure..thing Mrs. Dover,” the boys stammered, his cheeks blazing red.
She gave him a last little wink before leaving him with the truck. Logan must have been feeling a lot better because she had to take two leaping steps to catch up with him.
“I do NOT drink malt whiskey,” he growled as soon as he could smell her right behind him.
She giggled and it was a shame they were in the middle of a busy lobby. With lots of witnesses. Because he was definitely feeling strong enough to stab her now.
“Ah neva said ya did, sugah. Ah said it makes mah *brotha* snippy. And believe ya me, ya ain’t exactly got mah momma’s eyes.”
They walked silently across the lobby. He was sure the mud on his boots was ruining the plush red carpeting under his feet just by the glares people were giving him. At least at some time she must have put a shirt on him, or they’d have a lot more to gawk at.
He stopped in front of the elevator doors and the girl reached around him to press the ‘up’ button, not without giving him a ‘gawh’ at having to do it. The elevator came immediately, which made him look back to the kid in the green jacket and wonder if everything was cursed to do her biding.
She stepped in first and went to the key panel, him falling right behind her. A bald man in a dark navy suit got one foot across the threshold before a growl from Logan made him quickly pull it back. The doors mercifully closed before anyone else could give it a try.
“Where are we?” He asked once the seal was connected between the two doors.
Leaning against the side of the elevator the girl looked completely wiped, her skin almost making the ghostly streaks in her hair. “Malistray Tower Apartments. Eau Claire, Wisconsin.”
“Shit, Wisconsin? What time is it?”
“Nine forty, at least it was in tha lobby.”
“You drove for twenty four hours straight?”
“Yep, Mr. Ahm-too-sleepy-ta-give-a-shit-bout-Minnesota,” she answered, still starring at the illuminated four button.
********
“Our stuff already in here,” she explained as they stepped in through the apartment door. “Ya can get a shower first, considerin’ ya smell like shit in a ziplock bag.”
He walked around the room, taking it in. It was one large great room, rich mahogany furniture and pale yellow tweed fabric scattered throughout. The walls were lines with a bulky white chair modeling, above it pink and white striped wall paper. It was an absolutely hideous sight.
“What the hell are we doing here? How did you even get this place?” He found himself asking as he swatted at one of the tassels hanging from thick drapes covering the windows.
His ears picked up a faint giggle, enough so that he ripped the dangling bundle off that was in his hands. “Tha same way ah get everythin’ else, sugah.”
“Itsa luxury appartment complex ina major city,” the girl continued, her voice muffled as it floated out of the kitchen. “Ah figure They ain’t just gonna storm tha place, shootin’ wild an’ shit. So we're good for a while.”
He turned around just as she popped her head in through the arch between the two rooms. “They really are piss ant shots, ain’t they?” She continued, her giggled dying into the bottle of coke her raised to her lips.
“Maybe They just don’t give a shit what they hit,” he guessed, walking back over to her. “Though, tearing this place to shreds might not be a bad idea,” his mumbled and poked one of the twill lamp shades.
She stopped, setting the bottle down on the smooth granite counter of the island. “Ah kinda like it...”
He huffed and continued walking around the place. Counting the windows and the doors, the typical thing. The feeling of someone watching him set his nerves on end, especially since he knew who was watching him. When his paranoia finally wouldn’t let him have his back to her anyway he turn back around to find her still on one of the kitchen chairs, jean clad legs tightly crossed, just watching him.
“So..” He started, trying to fight down his anxiety. “Who the fuck is Mrs. Dover?”
She shrugged, wrapping a white strand around her finger. “Beats me. Look in tha phone book, sugah, ahm sure ya’ll find one.”
“No thanks,” he grunted, “I got more then I can handle now.”
The inch on his stomach was getting more and more annoying from the dried blood and sweat grating against his skin. And worst more the rumor that one can’t smell their own body odor was completely wrong. He didn’t know what shit in a bag or whatever she said smelled like but he figured he was probably close. “Where’s the bathroom?” He asked, walking past her towards the hallway. Which had purple floral wallpaper.
“Fuck if ah know.” She shrugged. Then he watched as her eyebrows came together and she shook her head, pressing two gloved finger to her temple. “No, wait. Ah do. Third door on tha right.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her, slightly confused as to if the knock to her head still hurt or just remembering things gave her headaches. Ultimately he decided he didn’t care. He just need to get a shower so he could get out of here. Now that he was fully functioning again.
Once he was out of the room she jumped up and skipped over to the fridge. Twenty four hours driving without sleeping or eating had her completely on low. But food came first.
Just as she got the mayonnaise jar in her grasp a loud ‘fuck’ reverberated throughout the apartment. When it was followed by heavy stomping she sighed and released the jar, closing the refrigerator door.
She was leaning on the kitchen wall, waiting, just as his lumbering form barreled out of the hallway. His face was bright red, lips is a thin straight line and, had he the ability, she was sure smoke would have been coming out of his ears.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” He yelled once he was only a foot away from her.
Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Ah don’t have a clue what ya talkin’ ‘bout.”
He roared and threw his hands up, just trying to keep from pounding her. “Is that how you always get what you want? Huh? By leaving a trail of god damn bodies in your wake!”
“Oh, lighten tha fuck up!” She raised her volume to match his and pushed away from the wall, closing the distance. “It ain’t like ah left her in a heap on tha floor or somethin’! Ah picked her up and put tha skinny little twit on tha bed, which ah thought was pretty damn nice a me!!”
“Nice of you?! You fucking killed her!” He roared, one of the veins of his forehead now painfully throbbing.
“Ah didn’t kill shit,” Rogue huffed back. “Didya smell decayin’ flesh in there? No! Ah was jus’ betin’ Miss-Priss in there wasn’t too open ta letting a 600 pound man on tha run ‘barrow’ her place! So back off mah ass!”
His head pounded from anger and frustration. She had absolutely no concern for anyone’s lives. If they had something she wanted she fucking dropped them like bugs and took it. Just because she could. Hell, Satan probably sent her to him just to get her out of hell.
“You are a seriously fucked up maniac-homicidal, psychotic bitch. You know that, kid?”
Her hands move to her hips just as she raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah? And that means what shit comin’ from a deranged lab rat?”
Before she had a chance to breath again she was slammed into the striped wall, her vision momentarily blurred by the impact. The whiplash caused her hair to come loose and it hung limply in front of her face, white and chocolate stripes of its own. When she could breath and open her eyes again she found a very fuming Wolverine only inches away from her face. And poised claws at her neck.
“Shut up,” he hissed at her, small drops of spit flying out of his mouth and onto his chin.
The pressure his other arm had on her bruised shoulder increased with his words, making her wince. She shook her head as much as she could and still not come into contact with the gleaming metal, as to get some of her hair out of her face.
“Ah am sick as hell of ya flashin’ those things at me,” she snarled back. “Fuckin’ stab me already or get tha hell outta mah face. Eitha way ah ain’t scared of ya.”
Damn her, she wasn’t. Only thing he could smell off of her was honey and cinnamon and anger. That only pissed him off more. He should show her. He should show her that she should be scared. She might not be scared of Them or anything else, but she sure as hell should be scared of him.
The muscles of his forearm twitched in anticipation and his locked his eyes onto hers. Steady deep emerald orbs stared back at him from behind the curling brown and white fountain. And aside from the slightly jerk of one of the muscles at her cheek she was the personification of remote and uncaring.
“Fuck,” he swore and retracted the claws but kept his pressure on her, disappointed in how weak he really was.
“Ya need me, Logan. And ya know it.” Her deep, smooth voice challenge him.
“The fuck I do! What the hell do I need you for?!”
“As ah see it, ya wanted by tha whole damn government. Where as ahm only wanted in a few states. Don’t start braggin’ or nothin’, though. So ya need me!”
A frustrated laugh escaped his throat and he finally released his grip on her, just wanting to get away. “Yeah? What the fuck do you do for me, huh? Let’s see.” He extended out a hand and grabbed his pinky finger, beginning to count off. “Steal cars, rob stores, kill endangered animals, spend my money, and oh yeah- god damn abandoning me when I fuckin’ needed you!”
“Ya forgot gettin’ shot for ya, makin’ sure ya got everythin’ ya might need and OH YEAH- carryin’ ya mother fuckin’ heavy ass AND not gettin’ any sleep jus’ so ya far enough away ta be safe!” She emphasized her last word with a hard poke into his chest that he actually stumbled back from.
Again he closed the distance so that the air separating their noses was minimal. “Well I relieve you of your duties, darlin’. Tomorrow I am fucking out of here.” He quickly turned around and stormed off toward the hallway again, his shoulders still raised in tension.
“Good!” She called out after him, “And ah hope ya enjoy tha hot oil an’ SCALPEL treatment Theys got waitin’ for ya!”
A second of silently fuming she added, "And buffalos are NOT endangered!"
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Author's Chapter Notes:
See, I told you. Maaaad...