It took longer than it normally would for the smell to hit him. Usually it would have been subtle, blending in with the natural aromas around him then gradually increase. But this time it just hit him in one gust. He didn’t know why the detection was delayed, but it was NOT a good thing. He could only assume it was the vast amounts of rank perfume embedded in every god damn surface of the apartment. The other option was that he was losing it. And that was not a choice. Because if that was true he was as good as dead.
It was still relatively faint now. Although in that shit-scent boutique that wasn’t saying much. But he could pick it up well enough to tell if he moved now he’d probably get out in time. Damn if he could find where she stashed the keys. What was she just bound and determined to make his life as stressful as possible?
“Get up,” he grunted as he walked pasted her and began to search the various surfaces around the room. She mumbled incoherently then twisted awkwardly-- away from him.
Pillows flew in havoc directions as he searched the cushions of the couch. His anxiety grew as the smell intensified yet the hunt kept producing fruitless. No key, no sounds of jingling, no escape, and most aggravating- a still hard slumbering chaotic minx ignoring him.
It had only been four hours since she fell asleep. And if he gave a shit he might have felt bad, considering how exhausted she was. But right now all he gave a shit about was finding the god damn keys to the truck and getting her up. And she was going to get up. “Get the fuck UP!”
The chair groaned and moaned at him.
“NOW!” He added, making his voice bounce off all the walls of the great room.
“If ya wanted me ta kill ya, sugah, ya should have jus’ asked,” she mumbled into the back of the chair, pulling the blanket up over her head.
He wondered if she even gave a shit how utterly un-funny her words were right now. Momentary he decided to let her be and concentrate on the keys, what with the time quickly running out. Frantically he searched, checking the kitchen table and counters and throwing all the mail off the engraved swan table by the door.
Roaring in frustration he stormed back into the room, still empty handed. Just as he was about to begin the hostile information squeeze on her a tiny glint caught his eye.
He practically ran to the coffee table and shoved off the myriad of CosmoGirl magazines. Thankfully a heaven sent ring practically echoed in his ears as the tiny pieces of metal bounced onto the floor.
“I smell gun powder,” he simply stated to her as he pushed the keys into his side pocket. But despite what he thought was an obvious warning the image in front of him did not change. It remained a cashmere covered butt and a fountain of brown hair.
“Good,” the pile replied. “Shoot me. Put tha silencer on, though. Ahm tryin’ ta sleep.”
Most god damn infuriating woman ever placed on the face of this earth! This is exactly why they were better off apart. On his own he could move. He’d been in the car right now, getting the fuck out of dodge. But no, he had to deal with a girl that was definitely being a damn piss poor guardian angel right now!
He had no clue what was keeping him from running out the door now. He had the car keys. And she deserved to be left, refusing to get up like she was. But the Wolverine inside him roared, he was not leaving the girl. God and Satan could have her, where ever she was suppose to be, but They couldn’t.
A quick tug and the red blanket went flying towards the couch. She squeaked from the sudden temperature change and pulled her knees up to her chest, curling further into the chair. Several blurred words leaked out of her that he could only assume was her swearing at him. Good.
Next came the pillow. Suddenly it was gone from under her head, which dropped with a quiet ‘thud’ on the arm rest.
She sprang up, twisting towards him. Her eyes were blotched red. It was a toss up that it was from either her lack of sleep or sheer anger. “What tha FUCK is ya problem?!”
“I’m having several right now,” he grunted back.
Then before she could yell at him again she was lifted off the chair by hard warm two-by-fours tucked under her knees and wrapped around her back.
“Logan!” She shrieked as she was pulled tight into his chest.
He ignored her, which was hard considering she yelled right into his ear. As light as she was it should have easy to carry her across the seven feet to the front door. But evidently she just wasn’t happy unless she was making everything harder than it needed to be. She was squirming and wiggling so bad in his arms it was all he could do not to drop her ass on the hard wood floor.
Suddenly his grip on her lessened as his arms moved away. She yelled again as she felt her body start to fall. Her arms shot up and quickly wrapped around his neck, coiling tightly.
She actually only dropped an inch or two before his arms locked around her again. “You gonna stop squirming?”
“Bastard,” she snapped, but kept her arms around him.
With her finally working with him the trek to the door was easier. He was slightly pissed that they’d have to leave everything behind. At least he felt better about stealing all those clothes, he hadn’t owned them long enough or wore enough of them to justify paying for them anyway. He just hoped she’d left enough money to get them a tank of gas.
“What tha hell is goin’ on, Logan?” She finally asked while she watching him twist the knob and kick the door open.
“They’re coming,” he answered walking through the threshold.
Once they were in the hall he set her down. It was silent in the late hours but now that he was out of that pansy hell hole he could finally read the smell. It was not good.
He reached past her and pulled the door closed. “We gotta hurry.”
“Aren’t we safer in here?”
The words barely left her mouth before a loud crash of glass shattering exploded from somewhere behind the door.
“Nope.” He grabbed her upper arm, right under her armpit, were her shirt was covering her skin. It took three or four steps til she finally stopped making him drag her behind him as he ran down the hall. They couldn’t take the elevator. They’d find out and just be waiting at the bottom for them. Or They'd just cut the chords, figuring he would survive the fall enough. Not to mention they could probably run down the stairs faster, the way that granny wagon hauled them up.
He released her to push the heavy fire doors that lead to the stairs open. It was one brightly lit vertical tunnel. The stairs were probably the cleanest concrete he’d ever seen, even had polished rod-iron railing. Rich people. Thankfully he’d already put his boots on. The stairs weren’t going to be so clean anymore.
He ran half way down the first set of stairs before it registered that he didn’t hear the sound of bare feet behind him. His heart jumped the foot and a half into his throat and he quickly turned around. Instantly he stalled at the sight of her.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
“Buyin’ time!” She yelled as she tried to stuff the back of the chair at an angle into the knob of the door.
The pounding in his head increased another notch. “That doesn’t actually fucking work!”
“Then why do they do it in all tha movies an’ shit? Hm?”
“God damnit,” he swore and closed the distance between them. As soon as he was close enough he snatched the loose material on her shirt and tugged it hard, pulling her down the first few steps toward him.
The tug made her off balance on the steps and she stumbled right into his arms. They both grunted from the impact. Once she was standing on both of her feet he let go of his hold on her.
His eyes leveled with hers, the lines of his face taunt and stern. “No more stopping.”
She nodded and he pushed lightly on her lower back, indicating he wanted her to go first.
Their steps echoed in the tall corridor, a steady percussion of delicate slaps and pounding thuds. Worse more, originally only he could hear the horrific back ground rhythm. It was a uniformed knocking noise combined with a deep rattle, muffled, but not nearly drowned out enough.
He knew she could hear it too when she kept turning her head. Big, anxious green eyes looked straight through him for something behind them. He wanted to smell her then, smell if the allusive fear finally caught her and wrapped its scent firmly around her, corrupting the honey and cinnamon. But his nose couldn’t process anything but the sheer intensity of gun powder.
Suddenly she disobeyed him again, coming to a complete stop on the landing between the third and second floor.
“Gimme tha car keys,” her chest rock from the lack of air as she extended her hand out.
“What?! Fuck you, kid.”
She rolled her eyes, but kept her hand out. “Ya wanna split? We’re splittin’ right here. Ah’ll get Their attention, have ‘em chase me for a bit, and ya sneak tha hell outta here. Hopefully ah can get tha buggas ta follow me all the way ta the truck an’ follow that. Ya get a new car. A *faster* car. No more of this beat ta hell, rust bucket shit.”
He could only stare at her as the words tumbled out of her mouth. At first they didn’t sink in. Split. Chase. Car. It took another second before they all formed into one disgusting word.
“I am not letting you be my decoy!”
“Why not?! It’s a prefect plan!”
“For one you don’t fucking heal from gun shots!”
“Ah hate ta break it ta ya, but ah don’t plan on gettin’ shot!”
His hands ranked through his hair, pressing the heels of his palms hard into his scalp. She can’t do this! Why was she always fucking doing this!? It was all piling up on him, the pounding headache, the pounding footsteps of the fuck knows how many armed military men just half a floor up.
He reminded himself not to yell, it only increased the throbbing in his head. “I don’t want them coming after you. Not to just by me a few extra minutes. It’s fucking suicide, darlin’. You ain’t got a chance.”
She looked up the steps they were at the base of, checking that they were still nothing, despite the increased noise of now people screaming. “Well ah don’t particularly want ta take that piece a shit truck, either. We’re both jus’ gonna have ta deal. Ah already told ya, Logan, ahm gonna kept tha big bad hunter from gettin’ ya. Ah meant it. ”
He roared and sent his fist flying into the closest immoveable concrete wall. “This isn’t a fucking game, Rogue. You’re as good as dead if I leave you to Them. Stop this shit. Stop pretending you can fix everything or fucking save me! You barely even fucking know me!”
A slow grin spread to her face and he wanted to beat it off. She wasn’t listening!
“Ya can’t tell me what ta do,” she said with a smile. “Ahm gonna go up there an’ play with tha boys in black for a bit. Tha only question here is if ya gonna take advantage of it an’ run. And of coarse ah know ya. Ahm ya guardian angel, its what we do.”
“This is the stupidest thing I’ve heard! I don’t fucking *want* your help!”
“Alright, sugah.” She finally removed her open hand and instead moved her arms up to cross of her chest. “Why don’t we jus’ stand here an’ talk for a while an’ see what happens. So. Read any good books lately?”
They stood facing each other, eyes challenging. It was a sick game of chicken. Both standing, bringing themselves closer and closer to certain death, waiting for the other to balk and give in. More and more voices screamed and yelled above them, serving as a make shift ticking.
During their silence he was running through his options. He could knocked her out, carry her down the stairs with him. But then he’d still have to figure out how to get rid of her later...
She quickly stopped his deliberation when she stepped to him, her hand driving straight into the pocket of his jeans.
“Hey!” He took a step back but she just followed with him, her hand tightly connected to his hip. He moved to pull it out but was stop by the vast amounts of killer skin she had on display. So his hands could only hover as she dug for the keys. Damn her.
When she finally had success, she giggled, dangling the keys in front of him. “Go on, Logan. Get tha fuck outta here.”
She smiled at him, a bright warm smile that he’d never seen before on her. He was so stunned by it he barely registered the light kiss she placed on his sideburns. Or her running away from him back up the stairs.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Author's Chapter Notes:
K, so maybe I'm not that nice. >D