After St.John let her back down with a boyish grin on his youthfully handsome face, he just told her to go find her man, before he got gutted. Looking around to the place Logan had been standing, only to see he had walked away. No sign of a retreating back, it was like he hadn't been there at all.
The warm buzz of arousal at being touched - even if it was just St. John - cooled rapidly. What if Logan didn't care or had really walked away at the sight of her touchable body? In all the years that she'd known Logan he had always...hovered... not really joining in at mansion life, not really seeking her out. He was always there though, sitting nearby, watching her every movement, but refusing to participate despite her repeated urgings. It got to the point that she just gave up, Logan would come around in his own time, or not at all.
He seemed such a mystery to her when in all reality he shouldn't have. She had him - all of him, every thought, fantasy, feeling, anger and pain - in her mind, and access to those things. Access to which she had taken advantage of, not because she wasn't respecting his privacy, but because she loved him and wanted to know the man as truly as she could - he would never open up to anyone anyway, so this was her only way of gaining that knowledge.
She knew how he saw her, but no matter what she had done to show him care, he just wouldn't respond. It seemed so contradictory to what she knew he felt for her - his walking away that is - that it became suddenly glaringly obvious that he didn't know or wouldn't accept the facts. Hard facts that she laid out on the table for him every time she talked to him, spent time in his presence. Six years maybe wasn't long enough. But it had to be. It was so far past time that things come to be, that if he couldn't take in her love she feared he never would. Of course she'd never actually TOLD him with that simple three word sentence of "I love you," that she felt the same for him that he did for her - but still, he couldn't be that thick skulled, could he?
Marie decided to give him as much more time as she could bear. If she didn't see him in twelve hours, she'd seek him out.
Setting off to her room, she planned for the contingency of having to chase him down and corner him.
Making her way down the hall to Logan's room - she hadn't been able to wait two hours, let alone twelve, it had already been too long anyway - she heard the shower running. Recalling that earlier when she'd passed by that the shower had be running then, she began to worry. Logan wasn't the kind of man who took showers that long. Ever. Checking the doorknob to see if it was locked, she found it turned easily - obviously not locked. Opening it slowly, she looked in to see his shirts in a puddle near the door, and his often too tight jeans slumped between his boots near the bathroom. Sniffing the air lightly - her senses had been permanently heightened by the two transfers of his healing factor - she smelled bitter arousal faintly and alarmingly tears.
Tears. That was outside of her expectations. Hell, that was so far outside the norm that she got scared. A sick feeling welled up from her stomach and she reacted without thought. Closing the bedroom door behind her, she continued cautiously into the bathroom only to see Logan's form leaning heavily against the rear of the shower stall -there was no steam in the air, it felt chilly, damp and sad. Hitching sobs continued to wrack Logan's frame as she waited, she didn't know for what.
What seemed an eternity later Logan reached blindly for the knobs and turned them off with jerky motions, his usual grace seeming to have fled for parts unknown. Still he didn't acknowledge her presence, his eyes were downcast as he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his narrow hips sluggishly. But then a moment later did look up, and all she saw was pain. So all consuming that it hit her like a freight train.
Reacting on instinct, she stepped up to him quickly, wrapping her arms around him, ignoring his lack of clothing and wet state.
"Logan - we need to talk. But let me take care of you first."
"Kid-"
"No buts mister, I'm gonna do this, and you're gonna let me. Then we're gonna straighten things out. So sit your butt down on the can and let me get you dry." Pushing him down gently but firmly to sit on the toilet, she grabbed the other towel and vigorously began drying his hair. All the while he just stared at her in something like wonder and pain all at once. It was the first time she'd ever done anything like this, taking care of him - not that she hadn't made motions like she was about to before - but this time she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
Slowly his body began to register her presence, his reaction - always so clear before even while clothed made itself known - and he tried to push her away.
"Kid - you should-"
"No."
Dropping the sodden towel she'd used to dry his hair, she grasped him by his hair making him look up at her, but his eyes were closed. "Logan." It came out a little sharp but she was fed up with this. She'd always seen through him on this, just hadn't understood why he kept pushing her away, she'd thought it was her age or her skin. But now it was harshly clear it was something else. "Look at me. Now."
His eyes cracked open - like a recalcitrant child not wanting to look at an adult when they knew they'd done wrong. Then he took a deep breath, chest puffing up for a moment and then released it heavily, forcing his eyes open and to meet her large brown ones. What he saw there almost made him fall off the toilet. Love. Unabashed and out there for anyone to see if they came in and looked at her. Love and frustration to match his own, just not resigned and pained like his.
"It's time. Stop pushing. Stop running. Stop hurting. I love you. I've tried showing you. I've tried hinting. You're an observant man. And I thought you'd figure it out. But obviously you're like any other man - dense at times. Now quit being a child and accept the inevitable - because this is killing you and me both."
"Say it again," just a pitiful whisper, almost heartbroken and definitely awed.
"I love you."
"God." Wrapping his arms around her waist tightly, he buried his face in her soft chest and unabashedly cried. This time the release of his tears wasn't painful or bitter - just a release. A real one this time, not some phantasm of wished for comfort. He knew he wouldn't be able to completely let go for awhile, but this was helping. Never had Logan expected Marie to do something like this - it closely mirrored his wildest, most fervent dreams for love and acceptance too much for him to consider it plausible.
They remained like that for a long time, long enough for Logan's hair - all of it, not just the hair on his head - to dry. Long enough for the towel he was wearing to dry even. And still he shook with emotion. Marie would have been alarmed if she hadn't just now put the last piece to the puzzle together. Men. So, so clueless they could be, even when what she'd felt for him had been clear to everyone but him.
He'd been so afraid that he was unlovable that he had already decided not to make the attempt. When he felt Marie start to pull away from him some he again began to panic - maybe she'd lied, maybe -
"Hush, sugar. I just need to sit down, my legs are tired. C'mon, lets get comfortable, Ok?" Taking his hand and leading him back into his spartan bedroom with him stumbling a little like a sleepy child. Guiding him to sit on the bed, she took off her shoes. Glancing at him, she tugged at her shirt a little uncertainly. "Logan? Is it ok if I-?" At his nod, she shyly turned her back some, and undressed. First her slightly damp shirt, then her jeans. As she reached for the clasp of her bra she felt strong fingers stroke her back then unhook it and slide the straps from her shoulders.
He was standing behind her, chest a breath away from her back, so close that she could feel the heat from his body. A shudder ran through her body. As much as she wanted for them to be together that way, she wasn't sure if they were both ready for it. But Logan just removed her bra and then his hands stroked down her sides to her underwear and pulled the simple cotton panties down her legs. She could feel his breath on the backs of her thighs as she stepped from the last bit of her clothes and as he rose back up she could still feel his little puffs of warm moist breath traveling up her body. Strong arms wrapped around her body, as he held her for a moment.
He pulled away then, but not completely, taking her hand this time and guiding her back to his bed they lay down together on top of the covers. Logan was looking at the ceiling not really sure what he should do next. Yes he'd had innumerable fantasies about how this would go, and from the scent emanating from Marie he bet she had too. But still wasn't sure what she wanted next. "Marie?"
"Hmm?"
"What do you wanna do now?"
"Rest."
Rolling over to face her, he couldn't help but feel his pulse quicken, only there wasn't any urgency to it. Not like he'd thought there'd be, he had always thought he'd be so frantic to have her, to make her his he wouldn't be able to hold back. She was right though, resting sounded like a much better idea. For now.
Taking comfort in her presence he drifted off to sleep, praying that this wasn't a dream.
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Story Notes:
Well I don't like unhappy endings - they just make me feel ill. So, things get worked out. How typical of me. I figure there's enough grief in the world, so why add to it, even in fiction? Dedication: Still to JJ, and I almost forgot that I also owe Jennie some smut too from when she got Fibroid Frieda out - this is for both of you, and I know both of you like some angst with a happy ending -personally I could do without the angst, but oddly enough I seem to always write a little dark unless its supposed to be a bit of fluff..... and then its just silly.... I'm warped, what can I say? Beta: Astyala (Take a bow, my good woman.) Start Date: May 20, 2004. Finish Date: May 20, 2004.