”We could have stayed in the city.”
“We could have. But I prefer this.”
“No need to get antsy, Logan. I’m just saying that after few hours in this piece of crap you call a truck it would be nice to have a decent shower and…”
“I got you a room with a bathtub.”
“Oh… Sorry.”
“Yeah. They do know what personal hygiene means… Even out here in the wilderness.”
“I said I was sorry already!”
“What ever. It has been a shit ass day for both of us… Come on, let’s go settle in.”
She stepped down from the truck, scorching hot sun attacking her mercilessly. Logan followed her shortly, carrying their bags. She reached for hers, feeling a pang of guilt. This trip had been her idea. Logan wasn’t supposed to even be here. He should have gone home with Scott as soon as the gig in San Antonio was over. Logan could have used a proper shut-eye after the beating he took, but no. Certain little-miss-oh-I’m-so-cute-Rogue wanted to see the rodeo. She was regretting her proposal already.
It had taken them little over three hours all in all to get to Nuevo Laredo, and drive through the traffic in the city to reach a small motel at the outskirts. Now that she thought of it, the whole time she had done nothing much but complained. The weather was too hot. Sun was too bright. There was nothing good on the radio. She had been bored. She had been immature. She had been childish.
She had stopped to ponder, and she had to hurry after Logan.
“I’m sorry. I really am. This whole trip was my idea and I have done nothing but complain all the time. I promise to lighten up a bit,” she huffed, wiping off the droplets of sweat that had gathered on her forehead.
Logan stopped at the front porch of the small motel and turned to look at her.
“Were all entitled to complain from time to time. Just don’t make a career out of it and we’re good,” he said, stepping in to the office to retrieve their keys from an old lady who was smiling widely regardless of the huge gaps in her mouth. Either somebody had knocked some sense in to her, or teeth had plain rot away at some point of her life. Logan didn’t seem to get frazzled. Instead he reached over the desk separating him from the woman and grasped her shoulders surprisingly gently, kissing her forehead.
She could hear them whisper to each other. It was wrong to listen, and she tried her best not to, but the small cracked radio blaring 80’s pop at the corner of the desk did nothing in hiding Logan’s conversation with the woman.
Her Spanish was at best rusty, but she could comprehend a word from there, another from here. Had Logan actually referred the old lady as his mother? And why was the granny grinning from ear to ear, throwing glances at her and Logan and pinching Logan’s cheeks?
“Well, it has been a long day. We better go and get some rest,” Logan finally ended the conversation, straightened his back and picked up the keys from the desk.
“You remember to show her the rodeo, you hear me boy?” The old woman said sternly, shaking her index finger in emphasis, her eyes practically drilling holes to Logan who nodded.
“So, that was your mother? When I get to meet the rest of your family?” She asked, wondering if perhaps the sun had fried what little there was left of her brain. It probably wasn’t a good idea to joke about family with Logan.
“As close to a mother than it gets. I was going through some rough times. Liked the booze too much, and mescal even better. She took me in one night to sober up some. Gave me a room and for exchange I kept this place up and running. Fixed things and helped with… unwanted guests,” Logan spoke slowly, twining his words together with steps he took on the dusty ground until they reached their rooms.
“She told me to clean up my act or she’d whoop my ass, and I guess that makes her eligible for the title of mom,” he said. There was a smile on his face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“And the next time I come here, it’ll be her funeral…”
She turned to look at the old lady who was now standing at the porch of the office. She looked as dry and brittle as the bristles of the broom she was holding.
“It’s her heart. Last spring doc gave her two months. She’s running on fumes already…” Logan whispered.
“But what the heck, life’s a bitch and then you die. Shoo, go and get cleaned up. We’re going out tonight,” he said handing the key to her room.
“Where are we going? What should I wear?” She asked. She had packed lightly, since this little impromptu trip abroad hadn’t been in the original travel plan.
“We’re going to see that goddamned rodeo. Wear something comfortable.”
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Story Notes:
Basically AU, perhaps somewhere in between X1 and X2.