Instinct overrode all thought as she brought a heel down on her attacker's foot. The man let out a yelp, temporarily loosening his grasp on Marie. She took the opportunity to squirm away from him, driving an elbow into his gut. She was about to do so again when the man behind her was pulled away with a force that left her off-balance. Her knees hit the ground and she had to pivot in order to see just what had happened.
She turned just in time to catch the mysterious officer driving a hard fist into the face of the condocteur she'd met, Remy.
"Merde! What are you doing?" Remy called out, before the larger man could repeat the assault. "I know the girl. I was merely saying hello."
"Didn't look like she wanted you saying hello." The officer looked back at Marie. "Is that true? Do you know him?"
Marie frowned, unsure of what had happened, or what to think. "I - yes. I know him." The man dropped his hold on Remy's collar. "But I certainly don't know him well enough for him to be grabbing me!" She turned to the fallen man. "Your superior is going to hear of this."
"Oh, please Marie. I was being friendly, yes?"
"No!"
Interrupting, the officer said, "Get out of here. The miss didn't want you touching her. You're lucky I don't bash your face in."
Scrambling to his feet, Remy muttered, "Again?" He quickly exited the car, rubbing his jaw and dabbing at his bloody lip as he went.
Once the condocteur was out of sight, the officer held out a hand to Marie, who still found herself kneeling on the train floor.
She ignored his hand and stood unaided. "Thank you," she said. "I can manage."
He nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Of course."
Shaking off any dust that may have gathered on her skirt, she added, "And I was doing fine with him."
The officer remained insufferably amused. "So I saw. You're a real warrior." He chuckled. "Stepping on his foot was - yeah, you're a rogue, all right."
"Rogue? Me? Listen, mister -- "
"Logan."
"Mr. Logan -- "
"Just Logan."
She smiled her best southern belle smile. "Thank you, Mr. Logan, I appreciate all you've done, really."
"But you were doing fine."
She frowned. Was he making fun of her? "Yes, I was."
"Okay, rogue, let's just say I was your reinforcement. That sound good to you?" He was having entirely too good a time, she thought.
"My name's Marie, sir. Not 'rogue'." She'd meant to sound firm and decisive but, somehow, her tone mimicked his.
He raised an eyebrow as a slow smile spread across his face. "I'll keep that in mind." His countenance darkened suddenly. "Are you sure that guy was only kidding around with you?"
She hadn't thought of the possibility that Remy might have actually wanted to harm her in some way. The idea disturbed her.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't really know him at all." Then, perhaps to assuage her own concern she added, "I'm sure it was a simple joke."
"It didn't look like you thought he was joking at the time."
Marie's eyes met his. "He shouldn't have been touching me."
Logan nodded but didn't say anything.
"I have to go," she said, feeling the after effects of the incident. She was shaken and unsure and needed to feel safe in her own compartment.
"Would you like me to walk you?"
She shook her head, relieved that he'd offered himself, but not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "I can --"
"Manage," he finished for her. "I know." He gave her a small smile and retreated back into the smoking car.
Watching him walk away, she thought about how unfortunately exciting the trip had become.
If she'd known then how prophetic her thought was, she would have cursed the day she ever stepped foot aboard the Orient Express.
It was four in the morning when it happened and she knew the exact time because she distinctly heard a loud groan and a shriek and a screaming voice asking what time it was. Distinctly she heard her father say, "It's four in the a.m."
At first, she thought she was back home in her bed, listening to one of the many arguments that woke her from her sleep. But when she felt the grinding of gears and the persistent dragging motion beneath her, she knew. Somehow, and for some reason, the train was stopping. She sat up in her bunk just as her father walked into her compartment.
He was bleary-eyed, his hair mussed and wild. He'd forgotten his robe and was only wearing his silk pajamas. His feet were bare. "Marie, wake up," he said into the darkened compartment.
"I'm awake, Father," she responded, voice hoarse.
"The train..."
"Why has it stopped?" she asked before he could continue. The train had not completely stopped she realized, but had slowed dramatically and was slowing still.
Her father shook his head. "I don't know, sweetheart, but I'm going to find out. Just stay here, Marie. Don't be afraid."
"I'm not," she whispered. And she wasn't. But since childhood, her father always made it a point to tell her that if ever he left her alone. Don't be afraid. She hadn't realized until that moment how comforting his words were.
A few moments after her father disappeared, Marie felt the train screech to a halt. For an instant there was complete silence. Then she heard the enraged voices of passengers coming from the compartments around hers. She felt footsteps outside as they went the way of her father: to find out just what had happened. Somewhere in the train a baby was crying, jerked awake when the lulling motion of the locomotive had stopped.
Marie waited an interminable hour for her father to return. When he did not she changed out of her sleeping gown and went into the adjacent compartment where Raven was sound asleep.
"Raven? Raven, wake up." It took a good, hard shake to awaken the older woman, who uttered a long string of curses when she finally did open her eyes.
"What do *you* want?"
"Where's Father?"
Already pulling her bedclothes back over her head, Raven replied, "How should I know? He went to check on something."
"The train, Raven. He went to see why the train isn't moving." Undaunted by her stepmother's obvious disinterest, Marie continued, "He left well over an hour ago. He should be back."
"So? I don't keep track of him. Go find him, if you're so worried." With that, she turned over and muttered, "We're on a train, for goodness' sake. Even Robert isn't stupid enough to get lost on a *train*."
Before long, Raven's breathing deepened and Marie could see she was asleep again. How can she sleep, she thought, with so much happening?
Deciding maybe Raven's idea hadn't been such a bad one - maybe she should seek her father out - Marie headed out of the compartment. A glint of silver caught her eye as she exited and she saw her father's pocket watch sitting on his pillow. Without another thought, she grabbed it and tucked it in the pocket of her fine linen jacket.
"Logan?"
"Hmm?"
"What's happening?" Charles Xavier's usual intuition had vanished under the cover of sleep. Dazed, he sat up and looked at his guardian who simply sat passively and smoked a cigar.
"Summers went to find out, but I have an idea."
"What?"
"Ever been caught in a snow drift, Chuck?"
"Luckily, no."
"Well, I have. Trains in Canada get stranded all the time. At least, where I'm from." He shook his head and laughed. "Sorry, Charles, but I think we're stuck." Logan stood and pointed his cigar at the window. "White. We're surrounded by it. It's harder to tell at night, but the dawn's coming and everyone'll see."
"What will we do?"
"Wait. They're going to have to dig us out. Hopefully, it won't take too long. Otherwise..."
"Otherwise?"
Logan smiled coldly. "With the train stopped like this? It's going to get pretty bad in a few days. Hell, in a few hours. It'll get to be freezing pretty soon. They don't store too much food, either. That'll be a problem." Xavier's sudden look of distress made Logan chuckle. "Hey, don't worry. Fancy shit like this probably has it all planned out for emergencies like this one."
Charles sighed. "That is not what worries me. I'm worried about Eric's response. I'm worried about what he might do."
Scowling, Logan shrugged. "What can he do?" he asked. "He's stuck, same as everyone else."
"Maybe, but Eric has his resources."
Logan snorted. "Well, he'd have to have a pretty big shovel packed in his suitcase then." He paused and puffed on his cigar. "I don't understand. Why go to the trouble? If he needs money so badly, why not just rob a bank or something?"
"There are some very wealthy people on this train, Logan."
"Doesn't answer my question. Banks aren't poor, Charles."
"No, but they are faceless institutions."
Raising a brow, Logan leaned forward and asked, "So, this Eric's a sadist then? He gets off on hurting people?"
Xavier lowered his head. "It's not that simple," he replied.
"Isn't it?"
"Eric has suffered much during his life. There are things that have happened to him... I wouldn't wish them on anyone."
"Not even your worst enemy?"
There was a long pause during which neither of them said a word. Logan waited for Xavier to respond, but he never did. Before Logan could pry further, Scott walked hurriedly into the compartment.
"Professor, I'm afraid I've some bad news."
Logan smirked. "Snow drift?"
Scott opened his mouth speak at the same moment but shut it promptly at Logan's words. He nodded sullenly, instead.
"Are they doing anything to correct the situation?" enquired Xavier.
Scott cleared his throat and shook his head. Logan thought he'd never seen anyone stand more upright than Scott Summers. It was damned annoying.
"Digging out the train is out of the question for the moment," he was saying. "The chef du train plans on sending some men to the nearest village for supplies until the weather clears."
"How far's the nearest village?" asked Logan.
"About a kilometer from here."
"Big job." And it was. He couldn't imagine a few men digging through freezing snow for a kilometer.
Sighing, Scott readjusted his spectacles and responded simply, "Yes."
Reaching over to take a jacket, Logan said, "I'm going to check it out."
"I told you -- "
Logan stubbed out his cigar and shrugged into his jacket. "I know what you said." He turned to Xavier and asked, "You'll be all right with the boy?"
Xavier nodded but remained silent.
Exiting the compartment, Logan called out, "Keep your eyes open, boy. All of them."
"Things have changed."
" 'Spose so."
"I think taking the girl isn't very practical now."
"Non? Never was if you ask me."
"Darkholme is worth millions."
"Wife won't pay."
"I spotted one of Xavier's lackeys walking around."
"Is that bad?"
"You don't know Charles Xavier."
"Non. Why would he care what you do?"
"Xavier thinks he is mankind's savior."
"Delusions of grandeur?"
"Or assuaging his guilt."
"Guilt?"
"Long story."
"If we're not doing this job, I got plenty of time."
"We're doing it. But there's been a change of objective."
"Oh?"
"We're taking Robert Darkholme. And teaching Charles Xavier a lesson in the process."
Logan was walking towards the main car when he heard them: the sharp screams of a man being beaten. He'd heard them often before, and he wasn't going to wait around to see who they belonged to. Running towards the sound, Logan soon discovered its source. He slid open the compartment door, his eyes immediately narrowing at what he saw. "You!" he growled, stepping toward two men, one bound, gagged, and unconscious; the other holding tell tale rope.
"Oui." Remy LeBeau smiled his best smile, winked, and said, "Good night, mon ami."
Logan heard the whoosh of steel rushing down on him. "What the f -- "
It was too late. The bar landed on his head with a sickening thud. Sharp pain preceded the darkness.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Dedicated and thanks to Donna, Nancy, Diebin, and Gowdie for reading and commenting. Without Donna's advice... Well. Let's just say she rocks. :) If I wasn't a turtle on valium, I might have gotten this out sooner. Nancy and the P-fic are endless sources of inspiration. Aye, and the kilt!