He glanced at his watch. Ten PM. Tomorrow would be Saturday. No school. Was she awake? He could have used her company. He would have liked to go for a walk with her in the garden. It was a warm, calm night. He climbed the stairs to their floor. Their floor. There were no other occupants in there. He liked it that way. There were no disturbing noises and smells. She was pretty quiet neighbor. He still couldn’t understand how she could have stayed in the room next to his for two weeks without him noticing her. He walked to her door and listened. She was in. He could hear faint scratching sounds. Pen on a paper. He knocked on the door.
She opened the door. Logan stood there, dressed in skintight black leather from head to toe. Silvery x insignias gleaming on his collar. An X-Man.
“I… I know it’s late… But I was wondering… Would you come for a walk with me?” He asked. She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger and tilted her head surprised.
“Um… Could you wait for a minute? I have to get dressed,” she said, indicating her nightgown. He shrugged his shoulders and leather creaked. She closed the door and hurried to her closet.
Thank god she had had time to do her laundry yesterday. She didn’t have many clothes, at least not nice ones. Almost all of her shirts and trousers were baggy, intended to give maximum security for those around her. She picked up her favorite pieces of clothing. Fuzzy white and long sleeved shirt made from angora and tight, white jeans. They had cost a fortune and Jean, teacher who had driven her to shopping, had clucked her tongue disapprovingly, warning her not to wear them in public. Shirt revealed a tiny strip of skin from her waist. She put them on, brushed her hair and grabbed her gloves and cloak.
He shrugged off his leather suit. Took a minute to shower. Toweled his hair dry. Put on jeans and a black t-shirt. Grabbed his jacket and went to door. Returned to his dresser and put on his gloves. He opened the door and there she was. His breath got caught in his throat. She truly was an angel, dressed in all white and smiling. Clothes on her now fit her much better than those she wore in daytime. Ugly baggy numbers that made her look like a welfare case. He took in her curvy body and swallowed. He knew he was not going to dream about doctors and scalpels tonight. Dirty old man. But he didn’t care. As long as he kept his thoughts and hands to himself, why should it matter.
“Ready to go?” He asked. She nodded and he took her hand. Together they walked to downstairs, to first floor. Realm of the non-dangerous animals.
She put on her cloak. Ugly and green one. But warm and safe. Safe for the others and safe for her. Logan looked disappointed, and she smiled to herself. She knew she had chosen her other clothes well.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Logan’s hand froze on the doorknob from the sound of Scott Summers’ voice. She turned to look. Scott stood behind them, hands on his hips. Marie couldn’t see Scott’s eyes because of the visor he wore, but his whole posture told her he was not pleased.
“Can it, Summers. She’s with me. We’re just going for a walk outside,” Logan growled.
“I wasn’t talking to her. I was talking to you. We had an agreement, didn’t we?” Scott asked. Logan turned and stalked to him.
“You had an agreement. I didn’t. I’m not one of your students, One-Eye.” Scott scratched his head and yawned, looking suddenly ashamed.
“Sorry about that, Wolverine. I guess I’m still little wound up about earlier. But could you inform me when you go out? So that I could adjust alarms.”
“I already took care of that. Good night, Scott,” Logan told him and returned to her.
The night was silent. Moon loomed above them.
“I thought that you didn’t want to come,” she said.
“Of course I wanted. You’re pretty much only one around here who I can tolerate,” Logan said. She furrowed her brow to his odd choice of words. He noticed her confusion.
“I have enhanced senses. I can see, hear and smell much better than average Joe. For some reason you’re under my radar, and I like it. I can tell that you’re there, but you’re not invading my whole space,” he explained. She thought about it for a moment. What it would be like, to be like him? Constantly aware of the other people around you, alert on every hour of the day? That couldn’t be nice. Suddenly she was very happy that her skin was her only problem.
“Let’s sit down for a moment,” she said. There was a bench beside decorative fishpond. She sat on it but Logan stayed on his feet.
“I don’t think it would hold my weight,” he told her. More riddles. He was tall and well built, but not overly muscled. He would weigh much more than her, but bench she sat on was relatively sturdy. She told him that.
“Remember last night? My claws?” He asked and she nodded.
“They were some kind of metal.”
“Yeah. My whole skeleton is covered with it. Gives me a little extra weight. But I’m good. I can sit here,” he said and sat on the ground beside the bench and leaned his head against her thigh.
“So. I was curious. Asked about you. Is it true you can’t control your mutation? Or is it just same kind of bullshit as the name you gave to them?” He asked.
“Name is a fake. Everything else is real,” she told him.
“Sorry.” He really was.
“Don’t be. I was on the road nearly eight months before I ended up in here. My skin kept me safe from all kinds of freaks and creeps,” she said and now he could smell a faint hint of fear from her. Eight months? Christ! He had been on the run much longer, nearly fifteen years, but he was better equipped to take on dangers that lurked on the road. And she had survived eight whole months on her own.
“I was curious too. I asked about you,” Marie confessed and he quirked an eyebrow, amused.
“You haven’t been exactly open to them either.” Nope. And for a good reason.
“All they told me was that you heal and have problems with your mental health.” He suppressed a chuckle.
“And you decided to go stargazing with a certified nut job?” He asked instead. She giggled and he noticed that he liked it. He was slowly starting to like everything about her.
“I don’t think you’re a nut job. And you’re only one in here who doesn’t treat me as a leper,” Marie said.
“Desperate, are we?”
“I think I’m entitled to. Last time I touched another person was nearly two years ago. My boyfriend.” A boyfriend? Logan shifted uncomfortably, not liking the idea.
“Where is he now?” He had to know. He would have liked to check out the competition. She lowered her gaze to ground.
“David is dead,” he could hear her whisper.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” she said vehemently. He turned to look at her, surprise evident on his face.
“When I touch other people, I can see what they think. His last thoughts were ‘mutie freak’,” she said.
“What a dickhead,” Logan blurted out. And Marie giggled again.
“We should probably head back in,” Logan said, standing up and brushing grass off from his butt. She nodded.
“I like it out here. But you’re right. I won’t get out of bed in the morning if I stay up any later.” They walked back to the mansion in companionable silence. At her door they stopped.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you… What’s with the new alarm clock?”
“Trash the old one. I don’t like the sound of it. Hurts my ears.”
“You told me the truth. You didn’t do it just to get rid of me,” she said smiling, and for a moment he was lost. Then he remembered what happened in the morning. How he had escaped in to bathroom in hopes to mute beeping that grated his nerves. He pulled her closer and enveloped her to his embrace.
“I don’t want to get rid of you, little one.” She hugged him back, and they just stood there a moment, holding each other and enjoying the simple pleasure of being held.
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