She had just gotten back home when her phone rang. Only ones with the number to it were Professor Xavier and Logan. Logan had called last night, so it was probably Professor calling. She kicked off her shoes, shrugged off her jacket and hurried to answer.
“Professor! It’s good to hear from you! How are you?” She asked smiling upon the caller greeting her.
“I’m fine, thank you for asking. How are you? Everything is going well, I presume?” Professor Xavier asked. His tone was light, but she could hear a hint of worry and tiredness in his voice.
“Couldn’t be better. But why do I have the feeling that this isn’t just your usual check-up call?” She asked. Professor sighed.
“You’re very perceptive young woman, Marie. It’s about Logan.”
“Oh… Is he alright? He called me just last night and everything seemed to be okay, has something happened?” She asked.
“Nothing has happened. But…” Line went silent, and for a moment she thought that professor had for some reason hung up on her. Then he continued.
“I’m afraid he’s not adjusting to your moving out very well. He’s taken it rather badly, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean? He hasn’t told me anything.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. He is, after all, the epitome of independence. However, things have gotten to a point that we’re unable to tolerate his bouts and whims any longer. Would it be possible to…” Again professor fell to silence. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head when he tried to find the right words.
“I know this is a lot to ask, seeing how your relationship with Bobby just ended and everything, but could you consider…”
“I’m not coming back. As long as Bobby’s there, I can’t. I’m sorry, professor, I really am, but it’s just too painful.”
“Oh, I’m not even expecting you to move back in. I was thinking about that spare room you have, and…”
“Professor?”
“Yes?”
“Shouldn’t I be having this conversation with Logan?”
“He’s unwilling to admit that there’s nothing wrong. Would it be possible for you to ask from him if he could move in with you?” Professor asked.
“And how am I supposed to do that? What should I tell him? Why should he move in with me?” She asked.
“Rent.”
“What?”
“Tell him that you need somebody to share the rent with you. Seeing how antsy he got as soon as you moved out, he’d be more than willing to help you out.”
Despite the fact that professor’s idea sounded more than appealing and she really did have hard time scrounging up enough money for the rent and rest of the bills, she hesitated to call to Logan. She was a grown woman. She had told him that often enough. Every time he called he offered to help her out, and every time she refused, telling him that she was a grown woman with grown woman’s responsibilities. And that she shouldn’t be running to him as soon as there was even a hint of troubles. One, probably the biggest reason for her moving out from the mansion had really been her desire to test her wings and fly on her own for at last.
And now she was supposed to lie through her teeth, something Logan would most likely pick up faster than she could say ‘busted’.
“Logan.”
“Uhm… Hi. It’s me.”
”Marie? What’s going on? Has something happened?” Translation: how bad do you want me to hurt somebody?
“Oh, nothing has happened. I just called… I just called to say hi. How have you been?” She tried desperately to find an opening.
“Same as last night. And you?” She grit her teeth. Ever cryptic, no-news-is-good-news wasn’t what she was hoping for.
“Just peachy. Saw the game last night?”
“Several. But you don’t watch hockey. Seriously, what’s going on, kid?”
“Uh, nothing… I was just wondering… Couldyoumoveinwithme?” She huffed it out with one breathy whisper. For a moment there was a complete silence. She knew Logan had heard her.
“Move in with you? Why the fuck?”
“I was just thinking. I have a spare room and I don’t even use it. Yet I pay for it every month.”
“I can give you money if you need. I know how much you like that apartment. It’s no problem for me, kid.” Uh-huh. He was making this harder.
“Well… That’s… That’s not all. I have enough money, it’s not that…”
“Then what is it? Spit it out, for Christ’s sakes.”
“I have some serious weirdoes as my next door neighbors. They kind of freak me out…”
“Get a dog, kid.”
“I’m allergic.”
“Marie…”
“Seriously! I wouldn’t be asking otherwise, but you’re the only one who can help me out! Please!”
“Fine. But there are some ground rules.”
“Of course.”
“Rule number one. No complaining about the chicks I bring home.”
“You bring them home? I thought you were more of the ‘up against the wall, bitch’ –type,” she couldn’t help giggling.
“Funny. Very funny, kid. Rule number two. No complaining about the beer I keep in your fridge.”
“You don’t mind if few of those went missing?”
“Touch my beer and I gut you. Rule number three. No hogging the bathroom every morning.”
“Just every other morning…”
“Do you want me there or not?”
“Of course! But there are some rules for you, too, mister!”
“Okay. Fair enough.”
“No complaining about my dates.”
“I can live with that.”
“No complaining about my cooking.”
“Let me cook and we have that covered.”
“No hairs in the sink, no unidentified chicks at the breakfast table, no watching porn or jerking off while I’m present.”
“Christ! I’m not a caveman, Marie!”
“Oh, and most important of them all! No ‘adjusting’ yourself in public places.”
“You drive a hard bargain for a chick who’s looking for a flat mate. You sure that you’re not too picky?”
“I called to you, didn’t I?”
“Hmph… When do you want me to move in?”
“When you’re ready?”
She put down the phone and let out the breath she had been unconsciously holding. Logan was coming in a few hours. She looked around. Place was clean and tidy. No embarrassing episodes with underwear in the near future. She plopped on the couch and huffed. How the hell was she going to handle this?
When she had arrived all those years ago to Xavier’s with Logan she had had the mother of all crushes to him. Eventually it had faded, and when she started dating Bobby she had drifted to comfortable friendship stage with Logan. She could only hope it would last. There was no way she could share an apartment with a tomcat like him if she was harboring feelings towards him. Logan liked women. He liked them a lot. All kinds of women. All sizes, ages and shapes. He wasn’t picky, and with his libido he was able to pick up several women during just one day.
“You’d better appreciate this, professor…” She muttered silently, imagining the prospect of meeting Logan’s whole harem not too fondly.
“Though I’m not sure if it’s wise to move in with her, I’m glad that we can have these back. The common room has looked a little empty without these…” Scott grunted, hefting a pile of couch cushions on his arms.
“And I’ll be taking this, thank you very much…” Logan said, snatching the blanket that had gotten tangled between the cushions.
“Need a blankie to sleep?” Scott grinned balancing the pile that threatened to topple over. Logan flipped him the finger and stuffed the blue Care Bear blanket to his knapsack.
“It’s warm.”
“What ever. Could you return those oven mitts back to the kitchen when you go? And those blankets to the linen closet?”
He eyed the pile of neatly folded blankets longingly. Then shrugged. Marie’s apartment was small. And more recently build than the mansion. It would most likely be considerably warmer. And if it wasn’t, he’d find a way to stay warm. He closed the door, shouldered his knapsack and checked his room one more time to see if he had forgotten something. Closed the door behind him, strange feeling of finality coursing through him.
“Get a grip…” He muttered quietly to himself.
He wasn’t all that sure that it would work out. He was well aware of his shortcomings as a houseguest. He was crabby in the mornings, kept late hours and generally did what happened to please him. But then again this was Marie. The girl he had often promised to take care of. And she had finally called that promise. At least he’d have to make an honest effort.
“Starting now…” He walked in to a small grocery shop. Marie’s cuisine consisted fully from take-out and meals you heated in the microwave oven. He wasn’t sure if his diet of greasy, rare meat topped with fresh vegetables was any healthier, but it tasted better.
He grabbed a cart and started filling it with everything he imagined would be missing from her kitchen, starting from the spice isle, ending to a corner, which local butcher had rented from the storekeeper. Half an hour later he was packing his groceries to the saddlebags of his motorcycle. Fifteen minutes from that he was parking in front of the building where Marie lived. Her apartment was in the fifth floor. Two bedrooms, living room, kitchen and a bathroom.
He had visited her once, when he helped her to move her belongings from the mansion. He couldn’t remember for the life of him her having weird neighbors, but maybe somebody new had moved in. Well, what ever it was, he’d take care of it.
He squinted towards the grey sky above him. Snowflakes, heavy from water, were splashing on his face and shoulders. Shiver run down his spine. He stepped away from his motorcycle, adjusting the saddlebags and the knapsack on his shoulders and stepped promptly to a slushy puddle of ice and water, his boots slurping generous amount of the brownish grey slush.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” He wobbled to the front entrance of the building and sat on the stairs, tugging off his boots and pouring out the muck. The doorman eyed him suspiciously. He resisted the urge to growl and smiled at him instead. He could be polite when he wanted to.
“How about this weather…” He grunted. Doorman nodded and opened the door for him. He shuffled with soaking wet socks over the polished marble floor of the entrance hall, skirted past the elevators and took the stairs instead. If he was really moving in with Marie, he’d have to overcome his fear towards the elevators sooner or later, but he wasn’t in the mood for learning new things right now. He was more in a mood of getting out of his wet clothes and getting in to something warm and dry.
At Marie’s floor his nose didn’t pick up any suspicious scents. No drugs, no booze. No sweat. No grease. Occasional whiff of cigars and coffee from few apartments, but nothing to worry about. Obviously the building was a place for the better folks. One of the reasons he had even approved her moving in. He’d much rather kept her back at the mansion, easier to take care of her there, but her break-up with the Drake kid had been far from pleasant and peaceful.
He stood behind her door. Shuffled his feet hesitantly. He could still go back. Go back to the mansion and call her that he wasn’t up to it after all. He could. It would be easy. And didn’t she used to tell him all the time how she was a grown woman who didn’t need his help? He sniffled a bit, trying to decide what to do when the door flung open.
“Hi! Were you planning to camp out in front of my door?” Marie smiled at him, leaning casually against the doorframe, and he couldn’t help noticing that she was wearing one of his shirts. He had forgotten it to her place when he was helping her with the moving, and he had never gotten round to take it back. The way she wore it, sleeves rolled up to her elbows and hem tucked in to the waist of her jeans, partially unbuttoned made him bark a short laughter. It was miles too big for her, but somehow she managed to make it look like it was made for her.
He pushed past her in to the apartment, patting to the kitchen and dropping the saddlebags to the table.
“What happened to your shoes?” Marie asked.
“Took a dive. You never told me that you have a pool in front of this building.”
“A pool… Oh, that puddle? You walked in it? I keep telling to the manager that he should take care of it before somebody drowns in it, but it looks like there’s nothing he can do. Or he just ignores me because I just moved in here.”
“Or he’s just a lazy bum. Hungry?” He asked, unpacking his groceries and cleaning off cartons of Chinese take-out from Marie’s fridge.
“Nope. I just ate.”
“Good. I’ll go and change to something more comfortable. You mind making me some coffee?” He asked.
Half an hour later they were sitting in front of the TV. He was wearing pullover, worn pair of jeans, wool socks and the blanket draped over his lap. He had a steaming cup of coffee; Marie was curled next to him, radiating warmth like… Like a radiator, and there was some kind of nature show on, Attenborough explaining how certain species of scorpions made by in the scorching heat of the Sahara desert. He was slowly warming up.
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