He ignored the sweat dripping from his face and slowed his labored breathing as he concentrated everything on what his ears were telling him. They picked up a soft foot scrape close by, a breath, and the grunt that comes right before a hard punch. Scott ducked and rolled straight for his adversary, shoving his feet up with as much force as he could. He connected and his assailant took a tumble.
"Ha! Gotcha!"
Too late he remembered that he had not followed through. The breath was knocked out of him as something heavy fell on him and wrestled him into a pin he could not get away from. He slapped the mat twice in defeat.
Even after Logan got off of him, Scott lay there reviewing his mistake over and over. As team leader, he could not afford to be so callous with his or anyone else's life. Slowly he got to his knees. He heard a movement in front of him and reached out his hand. A strong grip pulled him the rest of the way up.
"Damn. I should know better than to crow like that in the middle of a fight." Scott did not care that bitterness tinged his voice.
Logan handed Scott his visor and shook his head. He had only agreed to these lessons when a chance remark he had made gave Scott the idea to train blind. And then only because he saw the need for it, just as Scott did. The problem was, Scott was taking every defeat as a failure and not as a lesson to learn from. He muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Scott frowned.
"I said you're becoming a pain in the ass again."
Scott bristled. "We agreed that the first target an adversary would go for is the visor and that I needed to learn to fight without it. I don't see how this is becoming a pain in the ass for you when I'm the one getting my butt slammed all the time." He was shaking too hard to take off the blindfold and put his visor on.
"Want some cheese with that whine?"
Scott literally snarled. He lunged out with a fist and caught Logan on the chin. Once his hand connected, he threw his other hand up and got a grip on Logan's hair. Lodging one hand under Logan's chin and keeping the other in his hair, he twisted, forcing Logan to go down on the mat hard. Groping with his hands, he quickly pinned one of Logan's arms up against his back. There was silence for a moment, then a chuckle. Scott frowned again, this time in confusion.
"Now that's more like it," growled a voice underneath him.
Scott's face began to flush as he realized what Logan had done. He released Logan's arm and punched him hard on the back.
"Damn you. You can be such a hard ass."
"And you're a dick, now get off," grunted Logan.
"And if I say no?"
"Then we'll do it the hard way."
The next thing Scott knew, he was on top of a living tornado. He desperately tried to get a grip on something and try to wrestle Logan down again. It turned into a grappling match. Still with the blindfold on, Scott did his best to keep up and protect himself, even taking the chance now and again to go on the offensive.
Logan was very proud of Scott's efforts, but he wasn't about to go down easy just because the team leader wore a blindfold. Cyclops had done a lot of self-improvement on his fighting techniques and Logan felt the Brotherhood would be in for a surprise the next time they tangled. The match ended with Scott pinned. This time, however, there was no self-recrimination.
"You're making progress," Logan said as he handed the visor to Scott again and grabbed a towel. He sat down on the floor to do some stretches.
"You didn't pull any punches, did you?" Scott asked as he whipped off the blindfold and put the visor back on. He opened his eyes carefully, adjusting the optics to make sure all the energy from his eyes was contained.
"Did it feel like it?"
"No." Scott rubbed his jaw and worked his shoulders up and down. "Feels like I've been run over by a truck." He looked over at the enigmatic Wolverine. "Thanks," he offered.
Logan stopped stretching long enough to look over at the team leader. "Not a problem."
Scott grew thoughtful. "You really have a way of making me lose my temper."
"You were too busy whining about what you had done wrong to see what you were doing right. I decided you needed shaking up a bit."
The younger man nodded. "My anger can get the better of me at times, not a good thing for a leader. I need to work on that. It's a weakness I can't afford to have."
"A weakness doesn't always have to be a weakness." Logan slightly moved his jaw from side to side. "You have a pretty good punch, sometimes."
"Sometimes? I think I busted my hand on that …jaw of yours." Scott grabbed a towel and sat down on one of the benches, never sure of how to mention the metal in Logan or how it got there. He decided to fish for information. "What about you? What's your weakness?" There wasn't an answer. He looked up and realized that Logan was giving him one of those piercing 'what did you mean by that?' kind of looks.
He quickly disarmed the situation. "Big doe-eyes and a Southern drawl, maybe?" He grinned and Logan relaxed a little.
"Maybe. Yeah, she is," he admitted. Then he frowned. "I can lose my temper, too, Scott. I guess you need to know that."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"No, I mean I can really lose it. To the point where I …" He stopped, not knowing quite how to describe it.
"You become a raving lunatic?"
"Something like that, yeah." He turned back to stretching. His temper was one thing. His rage was another and he didn't like the thought of losing his hard won control around the kids at the school. Thankfully he had never been pushed to that extreme here.
"When was the last time you lost your temper?"
"What time is it?"
"Ha, ha. All right, smartass, let me clarify that, since you are so good at quibbling a point. When was the last time you really lost it?"
"Out in the wilderness a few years ago." Scott cocked an eyebrow so Logan continued. "A bear attacked me."
Scott absorbed that for a minute. "You won, of course."
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"Of course," muttered Scott. "So is this part of your temper triggered when you need to survive?"
"No. I survive just fine. I only need it when I want to rip something apart," Logan didn't blink, "literally."
They looked at each other in silence.
"You have good control then, as I've never seen that side of you."
"You've never needed to, and I wouldn't want the kids to see it either."
"Let's hope that never happens." Scott didn't waver.
"Let's hope so." Logan grimly agreed.
"Kitty, you are awesome at this!"
She blushed but held her head high, taking pride in the hard work and diligent studying she had done. She was really improving her computer and hacking skills and found the more she learned, the more she wanted to learn. She looked over at St. John who sat beside her, heaping praise on her, and smiled. He was such a good friend.
St. John gave a sigh as he looked over the information on the screen again. "Pretty soon, you'll be teaching me instead of me tutoring you." He took a quick glance at her out of the corner of his eye and decided to chance it. "You know, I heard there's going to be an RCV demo at the mall next Saturday afternoon. Would you like to go see all those crazy remote controlled machines with me?" He kept his fingers crossed and thought nothing ventured, nothing gained.
"That sounds kind of interesting." She had never seen a demo like that and was intrigued. "I'll see if I haven't promised to be Jubilee's shopping buddy for the day."
"Bring her along, too." As soon as he said it he winced. He didn't really want Jubilee tagging along, but if it meant that Kitty could spend time with him, he would gladly suffer having the other around.
Kitty laughed. "I doubt that she'll go, but I'll check. Anyone else going?" She kept her voice casual.
He cocked his head, not sure how to answer. "Well, I just found out about it. I haven't had a chance to check with the guys to see if they're interested. I'll ask them as soon as we're done here." He silently prayed that Remy would not go. He knew the Cajun's fondness for the sweet young lady beside him. Since Remy had not made an obvious move on her yet, St. John still considered Kitty fair game.
"I'm sure Bobby will go. You two are as close as brothers; you seem to do everything together."
"Not everything," he heartily assured her.
"Well, okay. I'll go with you. Well, I'll go if Jubes doesn't have a prior claim on me, fair enough?" He nodded enthusiastically. "Now, what do you say we find out the secret formula of Coca Cola?"
Two heads bent closer to the screen as fingers began to fly.
The day was going by slowly, as Sundays were want to do. Marie knew Logan had worked out with Scott this morning and she wondered how it had gone. Her mind wandered from the book in front of her and she found herself staring out the window. The conversation she had last night with Logan came to mind, especially the questions he had raised. She sighed and tossed the forlorn book on a nearby table. She meandered out of her room and down to Logan's.
Finding the door shut, she smiled and opened it. It would only be closed in the daytime if he was showering or changing. Not that he was modest, mind you. He really didn't have any problems with himself like other people did. He did respect the rules Charles had laid down, though, and tried to comply as best he could. She closed the door softly behind her and moved forward in the room.
He would know she was here. The question was, should she flop down on the bed and pretend to surprise him? Or should she just barge into the bathroom and see what she could see? She muffled a giggle. She had to be true to herself, of course. She opened the door to the bathroom. Logan was leaning against the counter in his jeans and nothing else, with his arms folded. His hair was still very much wet, as was the towel on the shower door. He looked as if he were trying to make up his mind about something.
"What are you doing?" she finally asked.
"Well, if I had known you were going to try to catch me naked, I would've taken a longer shower. But if you're really curious, I could always hop back in."
Marie laughed. "Am Ah that transparent?"
"Not really. You could say it was a lucky guess."
"You never guess."
He quirked a grin as he tried to comb through his unruly hair. "You're right. I don't."
She went back into his room and opened a drawer to pull out a T-shirt. "You remember what you said last night?"
"I said a lot of things." He followed her into the room and took the shirt from her, pulling it over his head.
She paused to admire the view before the shirt could spoil it. "About Canada."
He pulled the fabric the rest of the way down over his torso. "About that drug?"
"Yes."
"Look, darlin'…"
"Hold on, let me finish." He knew better than to argue and sat down to put on socks and boots as she continued. "Ah think Hank has it all wrong. If Ah really could control it, how come Ah was so scared to touch an animal for the first time after my mutation kicked in? Ah just knew Ah would kill anything that Ah touched. It was an accident that a dog knocked me over and started licking my face. Ah was terrified it would die. It was a miracle to me that Ah didn't have any effect on it. Can you explain that?"
"I told you…" he growled.
"Ah know. You were simply telling me what you heard; you weren't trying to tell me what to think. Ah still think it was the drug that let me touch you without killing you. If you hadn't had that stuff in your system, you would have died when you touched me in the meadow."
"I may have been high on that stuff in Canada, darlin', but it doesn't explain what happened outside Hank's Lair. That small amount of the chemical he kept was never touched by the fire and wasn't part of the smoke I inhaled. I told you my eyes were dilated because of that shit Hank poured into them. I was not under the influence of anything that time."
Marie sat down hard on the bed. "Then Ah don't get it. What was the common denominator?"
"I was there and you were there, both times. That's about it." He shrugged.
"You were high and then you weren't. Ah was scared and then Ah wasn't. We have to be overlooking something." She shrugged. "It's a puzzle. So where do we go from here?"
"Got any lip balm?"
"Logan!"
He couldn't keep his face looking innocent as she tackled him in exasperation.
It was bitterly cold outside, but there was more light today. He looked up. The winter storms had broken for now and clear starry skies were above him. There always seemed to be more hope inside of him when he could see the sun and he longed for the change in seasons. This winter seemed exceptionally long, for more reasons than one.
"Piotr!"
He looked down. Sure enough the wizened little voice had come from the wizened little old woman on the sidewalk in front of him. He smiled.
"Good afternoon, grandmother."
She nodded. "Good afternoon to you also. How is your dear sister?"
"She is well, thank you. How are you?" Here it comes, he thought.
"Well," she paused, "My hip is a little better and my shoulder does not hurt so bad." She launched into a tirade on her poor health. Finally she ran out of things to say. "Look at you. The picture of good health." She good-naturedly poked his stomach. "Your sister feeds you well."
He fished in his coat pocket and came up with a few coins. "Illyana loved the dress you made for her. I was wondering if you could make another? I'm afraid she is growing again." He took one of her tiny hands in one of his giant ones and dropped the coins into her palm. He smiled at her cheerful little face bundled under a balaclava to keep warm.
She was not his grandmother, but he loved the old woman just as much as if she was. She had been there for them when their mother, father, and brother had all disappeared a few years ago. When Illyana was a little older and could go to school by herself and cook and clean on her own, the grandmother did not have to baby-sit nearly so often in the evenings. She still dropped by to check on them and to occasionally eat dinner with his sister while he worked the night shift.
In these tough times, those who had a paycheck shared with those who didn't and when he found out that she made dresses, he came up with a plan. He knew that the old woman made enough of a profit from one dress to keep her fed for a week. His sister, Illyana, had not objected, for the dresses were very nice, and had even cut back on their food some so they could give a little more to the charity case that had adopted them.
After she had agreed to make another dress and they had exchanged a few more pleasantries, Piotr continued on towards his work. He was not looking forward to it. His actual job, working in a steel plant, was not bad. Russia would always need steel, no matter what the economy was like. It was a job and it brought in money. He would rather spend all day painting, but sometimes the brutal tasks the plant required gave him a sense of accomplishment, too. No, the thing he dreaded had nothing to do with work, it was standing right in front of the plant doors.
"Good afternoon, Piotr. I have another 'chore' for you."
The man said it like it was nothing and it made Piotr sick. He knew better than to beg or plead or ignore the man. That would be his undoing for the man would see to it that his sister paid the price.
Instead Piotr took a different tactic. "Should you be here?" He looked around. "The police were around here yesterday." The police had been there but it had nothing to do with this man and Piotr knew it.
The man unconsciously darted his eyes left and right even as he said with false bravado, "The organization I work for has no enemies that can hurt it." He focused back on Piotr. "There has been a deal and I wish you to pick up the money." He proceeded to explain the details of the arrangement.
Piotr sighed. The man in front of him knew his secret. He dared not do anything or the man would not only tell, exposing him to the hatred and fear of hundreds of people in the town, but would also hurt his sister. The man's name was unknown to him. It was pure chance that the stranger had seen Piotr save his sister that day by using his mutation. Piotr had to trust the fact that the man used him as a secret weapon all to himself, boosting his success rate in the mob by eliminating foul-ups at key deliveries due to Piotr's strength, size, and unusual abilities. In fact, it had seemed to launch his career in the 'business.' He now had a few men working for him and he usually had them keep an eye on Piotr and his sister. Nothing would come between him and his golden goose.
"Remember, Rasputin. Be there tomorrow or I will make sure things go very wrong for you."
Piotr watched the man walk away. He felt a rush of anger and helplessness surge through him as he turned back to the doors of the plant.
The sensation was always a heady one. For a man without the use of his legs, it felt overwhelming at times, like running on a cloud that was flying at the speed of light. Charles found Cerebro an escape from the bonds of his wheelchair like nothing else on Earth. If he hadn't been grounded in the love and family of the mansion, he was sure the power trip would have eventually taken him down a road that lead in the same direction as Magneto's calling.
The joy of discovering new mutants was also a pleasure. That's not to say he went after them all. He had found many mutants that were not adolescents, older teens and adults who had made lives for themselves that he was loathe to interfere with. Even so, he kept tabs on them, especially the ones that were alone. Some of which he had eventually drawn to him, like Remy and Samuel, when things became too rough or dangerous for them.
An emotional tide swept through him as he focused on a feeling of distress from one of his recent discoveries. This one, the one he just felt, was a special case. At twenty-two, the Russian was not really in need of any 'schooling' but Xavier felt the surge of helplessness and anger from the young man and wondered if he didn't need assistance. Charles shied away from prying for the most part, but he did know a little about the man's abilities and the fact that he protected a much younger sister. He decided it was time to end his session with Cerebro and call a team meeting.
Communication might be a problem, he mused as he wheeled his way back into the main hall. Who among them was a linguist? An idea formed in his mind and he smiled. Confirmation was needed, of course, but he might be the perfect choice for the situation. Sometimes the best way to deal with a problem was to deal with it in a non-diplomatic way.
She stretched languidly, easing herself out of the bed with graceful movements. Today's the day, Raven, she told herself. Today she would snatch up the new mutant for the Brotherhood.
She had been in this small, quaint, charming, and exceedingly boring Siberian excuse for a town for three days, scoping out her prey. When news had reached the Brotherhood of a possible new recruit, one exceptionally strong male, Mystique took charge of the operation. Her skills at manipulating and maneuvering men were legendary and she had no intentions of resting on her laurels.
Out of habit, she looked out the window and expected to see afternoon sunshine. At this latitude, in the last throes of winter, there was none to be had. She stuck out her tongue petulantly and moved to the beautiful full-length mirror in the corner of the hotel room.
Her skin tingled at the thought of changing. Mystique reveled in her mutation. While other women could only do mundane things like dye their hair for a change of pace, she could change anything and everything. Well, almost. She couldn't add mass to herself or take it away. That didn't matter, really. She didn't want to be a giant or a child.
She shifted into the regal-looking blonde that had booked the hotel room. The men fawning all over her around here told her this was the current Russian male preference. All she had to do was lead the subject around by the nose and into the hands of the Brotherhood.
It didn't make a difference to her if he was really a mutant or not. If he wasn't, she still might give him a tumble before she killed him. If he was and didn't end up joining with them, she'd let Sabertooth have him when she was done. Give a little snack to the oversized moron. If she was lucky, this new one would kill Sabertooth and she'd be done with him. Toying with the big oaf had seemed like an amusing game to occupy her time when Magneto had first been locked away. Now she was bored and wanted Magneto back, someone who could think on her level of hatred and deceit.
Not that she needed a man in her life. They were a necessary evil and she had yet to meet one she couldn't do without. An unbidden thought came to mind and the reflection in the mirror changed. She was now staring at 'him.' Unruly dark hair and warm brown eyes topped off a decidedly male stature wrapped deliciously in black leather. Now there was a man worth having. Would she like to take him on in bed? You betcha. Would she like to kill him? Most definitely. What a challenge the Wolverine presented.
A knock sounded at the door followed by some gibberish she supposed was Russian. Damn maid. Quick as a flash the blonde was back. Mystique grabbed the satchel that contained her pistol. Wouldn't do to leave that behind, now would it? She glanced back at the mirror one last time before she left. Three knives shot from her fist and she raised them up, touching them to her lips and blowing herself a kiss, before she pulled them back into her hand and turned to go.
Kitty looked over at Logan, who had leaned back in the seat opposite hers and had his eyes closed. It was hard to believe she was here, part of the team at last. She and her group had trained so hard, they were finally going on some of the minor missions and wearing the uniforms of the X-Men. Bobby, Remy, and Rogue had already gone. Samuel had been slated to be next and then Jubilee, but this mission involved a young girl and it had been a toss-up as to who would go, her, Jubilee, or Rogue. She had been picked and she was having a hard time keeping the butterflies in her stomach down.
She leaned forward and whispered, "Is Wolverine asleep?"
"No," Jean looked back over her shoulder. "He hates to fly."
Ah, Kitty thought. One more piece to add to the puzzle. She and her class had always studied Logan, trying to help him figure out his past by noticing the unconscious clues he sometimes revealed about himself. When he had come back and started teaching classes at the mansion, they had learned that he could speak different languages without knowing it, always assuming he was speaking English. In fact, Professor Xavier had asked her about that earlier today, before he had called the mission meeting, so she had assumed they were going someplace other than America.
"Thanks for telling her that," muttered Logan.
Scott grinned. "It's time she learned you aren't perfect."
"I already knew that, Cyclops," Kitty piped up.
She blushed a little. It felt funny to call him Cyclops. She had a small 'thing' for him but nobody else knew it. She put it down to wanting an older man, someone more mature than the ones she hung around with. St. John was sweet, but too sensitive. Remy was still too full of himself, although he had been much better lately. Bobby was more like a brother and Samuel was such a good friend it was hard to think of him as anything else. She stole another glance at Logan. He was more like an older brother, someone you looked up to. He and Scott were both nice to look at, though. She stifled a giggle. It wouldn't do to giggle in uniform.
Logan tried hard to ignore the smell from across the way. Every time she saw him, Kitty reacted physically to Scott. He had always known about the crush but had not said a word, preferring to stay out of it. Try as he might to keep out of other people's business, they telegraphed things so much through scent, sound, and posture that it was impossible to keep a secret from him in the mansion. He let his thoughts drift to Marie and the special scents she gave off. Finally he started to relax.
Jean had been impressed at the meeting. When given the opportunity to throw his two cents in as to who should accompany them, Logan, showing no deference, had said that any one of the three young women could hold their own on a mission. Then he had looked at Charles and asked if there was a possibility that the Russian's sister was being used in some way to keep him in line. None of them had thought of that. When Charles answered in the affirmative, Logan had immediately suggested Kitty, stating that she could go in and get the girl out with the least amount of confrontation or emotional upset. Scott had seen the value of having such an option and confirmed Kitty as his choice also. She herself had hesitated to offer a vote.
It was always hard to go on a mission with Logan, having to keep up her guard on her own strange emotions about him. Now she had to contend with Kitty's crush on Scott at close quarters. She should be flattered, Jean reflected. Scott was very attractive and it helped to have a second opinion on this, especially when she knew he was hers, body and soul. Still, she would rather be in bed with him right now than going on a mission with a love-struck young woman and a hormone-stimulating man, she thought, as the lights of the coastline of Russia rose out of the ever-darkening horizon.
Logan entered the building from the rear, the others having gone in at the front. He was a little late due to his curiosity. There had been four men loitering around the plant watching the entrances. All had been armed and sporting cell phones. The weapons had been expensive and they had all carried cash in their wallets with no ID. They didn't like questions, either and had reacted violently to his inquiries. Too bad for them, he was faster on the draw. The cigar he had found when he rifled through one of the dead men's pockets had piqued Logan's interest the most. A normal Siberian yokel would not be toting around a hand-rolled Cuban Gold. As he walked further down the hall that twisted and turned toward the main area of activity, his ears picked up the sound of arguing voices. He snorted as he recognized one of them. Someone was getting Cyclops's goat, but good. He held back and listened for a minute.
"Look, we're not here to twist your arm or anything like that. We were sent here to check on your welfare." Scott sounded exasperated. "This is not coercion. We don't want anything from you."
"That's what the other one said before she put the gun on me," a deep, male voice retorted. The thick Russian accent continued with, "I have nothing more to say to you. Leave me alone."
"Other one?" Jean sounded concerned. "What other one?"
"She looked like you, only blonde. I don't trust you. I am not going to talk anymore. I am going to get my supervisor now."
Logan cocked his head. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth. He could tell the man wanted to say something further but either couldn't or wouldn't. They were heading his way so he leaned back against the wall with an air of nonchalance. As the man rounded the corner, two of Logan's suspicions were confirmed. One, the man was huge, close to seven feet tall, and in extremely good shape. Two, the odor of anxiety from him hit Logan with an almost palpable force. This man was in deep trouble.
Piotr stopped when he saw another one of the strangers ahead of him in the hall. They were everywhere. Why today of all days? He looked down and saw the cigar in the smaller man's hand.
Without thinking, he said in Russian, "No smoking in the plant, idiot. There are enough fumes in here to blow the roof off."
Logan quietly slid the stogie inside his jacket. "The fumes are worse than you think, but they're not the worst smell in here."
Ah, this one spoke Russian. "If you are referring to me…" Piotr bristled a little, bowing up in a defensive posture.
"No." Logan didn't move. "I was referring to the disease. You shouldn't work in a place where you breathe in so much Tuberculosis. It could kill you."
Piotr paled and for a moment he was speechless. He even forgot about those other three strangers on his heels.
"How do you know that?" He took a step forward. "Who are you?"
"Someone who'd rather not be in here."
Piotr snorted. "There's the door."
"You first."
The eyes darted to the door and back to him. He could sense the hesitation and the odor of anxiety went up. Logan's third suspicion was confirmed. The big man knew about the men outside.
"Go to hell." Piotr towered over Logan, fists clenched.
"Let's go outside and settle this where there's more room for fun."
Piotr blinked. The smaller man was not backing down. Most people shied away from tangling with him, not that he was much of a fighter. He usually pulled his punches, afraid of seriously injuring someone. This man, though, showed no signs of fear. In fact, he thought he saw anticipation in his eyes. With a chill, he realized this one was more dangerous than the men outside could ever hope to be. He calmed down and used a different approach.
"I do not wish to fight you." Was that disappointment he saw? "I only wish to be left alone. Please, go away."
Scott whispered to Jean, "Did you know 'dark and deadly' spoke Russian?"
She shook her head. "I had no idea."
They heard a small noise and looked over at Kitty.
"He can speak more languages than that, but his faulty memory prevents him from knowing it. He may think he's speaking English. He can't always tell."
Scott gave a low whistle. "No wonder the professor insisted he come. Let's just hope he doesn't make matters worse with that blunt tact of his."
They all turned back to watch the unintelligible interchange between the giant and the Wolverine.
"I'll leave you alone if you answer one question," Logan replied.
Piotr looked down at him. Could it be this simple?
"Aren't you with them? Don't you want me to come with you? You are dressed as they are."
"I don't do this for the clothes. My job is to protect them. I could care less what I wear and I could care less whether you come with us or not. Are you going to answer my question?"
Piotr nodded.
"Good. If I asked anyone else at this plant to step outside with me, would they be able to?"
Again Piotr nodded and Logan could tell that this was the cause of his anxiety.
"Then they were here for you."
"They watch me always," Piotr confirmed as he stared at the floor.
"Not anymore."
The big man looked up. "What do you mean? I don't understand. Are you saying they're gone?" His voice trembled slightly.
"No, they're dead. I asked them a question and they got defensive and pulled their guns. Not my fault."
"There were two more in the front! If they find out…"
"Well, they got defensive, too."
There was a stunned silence. Logan noticed the change in scent and heartbeat in the man in front of him and he braced himself. On impulse, Piotr lunged forward, gripped Logan in a big bear hug and kissed the smaller man on both cheeks.
Logan broke the hold and dropped to the floor. "Cut that out!"
"This is brilliant! Now if I can get to Illyana before they find out…" He looked at Logan. "They are truly dead, yes?" Logan nodded. "I am not sorry, in fact I'm glad. You have done me a great favor and I owe you a debt. They will not know where I am for a short while and I can get my sister and get away."
"I'm assuming they were Mafia." Piotr nodded. "You'll need some backup." Logan looked over at Scott. "We get to help him, right?" Blank stares answered him. He turned back to Piotr. "You'd think they didn't have a clue."
"I have already tried. They don't speak Russian, my friend."
"Neither do I."
Piotr raised an eyebrow. "You and I have spoken nothing but."
"Nothing but what?"
"Russian, of course. What is your name? Do you really mean to help me? If only I can get there before they know I am coming…"
"Hold it," Logan frowned. "We've been speaking Russian? Say something in English."
Piotr switched languages. "You are strange, but that I like about you. My name is Piotr Rasputin. Will you help me…?"
"Name's Logan. Yeah, I'll help." He looked over at Scott. "Can you understand me now?"
"Now that you're speaking English again. What's up? What's the verdict?" Scott had been frustrated by the lack of communication. "Is he coming with us?"
"I took care of the four goons outside that were keeping tabs on him. He wants to go get his sister before the rest of the goons find out he's AWOL and take it out on her."
Scott nodded curtly. "Let's get back to the 'bird," he told Jean. "We'll give them tactical support from the air. Shadowcat, you're with Wolverine. Remember your priorities. Let's keep it quick and quiet." He strode down the hall with the rest in tow.
Logan looked at Piotr. "Coming?"
Piotr's mouth fell open. "What are they doing? Why would you help? You don't even know me. Are you insane?"
"Yep, frequently. Let me know next time we're speaking Russian." He moved down the hall after Scott.
"Totally insane, all of them." Then he remembered he was free and had a chance to get Illyana and himself out of this mess. He smiled broadly and ran to catch up.
Damned hard-headed son of a bitch, thought Mystique bitterly as she took out the watcher and began to climb up the back of the apartment building, via the fire escape ladders. If the Russian had cooperated, she could have been home by now, fast asleep. But no, she had used every ploy she had and he had not fallen for her charms. After she left, she had figured out he was being watched and did her homework. The sister was being used as a hostage to keep the big moron in line. She could do the same thing, she reasoned.
Logan took out the watcher in the front and the three of them went up three flights of stairs as fast as they could. Piotr had explained that a beautiful woman had visited him at the plant earlier, giving him a card and telling him that she needed a bodyguard and would pay handsomely. When he had refused, she had tried to tell him she was only there in his best interest. Then she had turned nasty and threatened him with a gun. Some other plant workers had come by and he had managed to get away from her on the operations floor. As soon as he smelled the card, Logan knew who it was. It was only a matter of time before Mystique figured out about the sister.
They burst through the apartment door just as Mystique slipped in through the window. Illyana dropped the dinner plate she was carrying. She was directly in the crossfire. Kitty lunged forward and wrapped herself around the girl, pulling her to the floor as she phased them both. They sank out of sight as Logan launched himself at the enemy. With a roar of rage Mystique opened fire. Logan took bullets, gun, and enemy down with him.
"If I can't have him, you can't either!" She screamed, slamming the gun in his face.
"Get out of here!" Logan yelled as he tangled with the outraged Brotherhood member.
Piotr staggered back, hitting the doorframe. Concerned about Illyana, he raced down a flight of stairs and met Kitty and his sister coming out of the apartment below.
"We have to get her to safety," panted Shadowcat as she kept hold of the girl's wrist and went flying down the steps. More gunfire erupted above them.
By the time they reached the front door of the building, a siren could be heard in the distance. They tore down some alleys and through a wooded park to the rendezvous point at a warehouse. It was too dark to see much, so Piotr only got an impression of the beautiful and deadly looking black plane before they ran up the steps. He looked back, but did not see anyone follow. The door closed and the plane began to rise.
"Wait!" Piotr cried out. "What about Logan?"
"He's going to meet us in another spot."
For thirty minutes they circled around the town at a high altitude. Finally a blip appeared on the tracker.
"There he is. Right on time." Scott brought the plane down in a remote area.
"She got away," muttered Logan as he climbed on board. The dim light of the passenger area glittered faintly in his angry eyes. "Lucky bi…"
"Ahem," Jean gently admonished and looked over at Illyana.
"What?" Logan glared.
"Nothing," she smiled. "Let's go home."
"Wait a minute," Piotr stood up. "I did not say we were going with you."
"There's the door," said Logan. "Go for it." He started to unfasten his jacket but stopped when he saw the little girl.
"You really ask nothing of me?"
"Nope."
Kitty cocked her head. "Why would we? We just came to help."
He took in her pretty face and frank expression. They really meant it. He and Illyana could leave at any time. He sat back down slowly. Was there really any reason to stay in Russia anymore?
He looked back up at Logan. "Twice you have saved me today, my friend. Perhaps I should trust fate and go with you." He nodded to Scott who turned and took the controls.
"Whatever." Logan reached into his jacket and brought out the cigar. He inspected it for damage and stuck it in his mouth as he sat down. The plane rose into the air and headed for the mansion.
"Good thing those jackets are bulletproof, yes?" Piotr hugged his sister and whispered in Russian, "They are weird but nice. I think we are safe, for now. We'll see how it goes, okay?"
She nodded and hugged him back, all but disappearing in his massive arms.
Logan winced as he tried to settle himself in the chair.
"What gave him the impression the jackets were bulletproof?" said Jean to Kitty. She then leaned toward her fiancé and said in a lowered voice, "By the way, did you ever place that order for the Kevlar lining material?"
"Yes. It should be here today or tomorrow." Scott looked in the mirror over his head and noticed the stiff way Logan was holding himself. "Problems, Wolverine?"
"I need to get this jacket off, Cyclops," Logan growled.
Scott and Jean looked at each other. So that was it. In the cold cockpit of the Blackbird, there could only be one reason for Wolverine to want to take off his jacket. His body must be in overdrive, healing wounds and therefore putting off a lot of heat.
"Can you…?" Scott started.
"I'll check him out." She rose from her seat and stopped by Logan. "You really need to say something. We don't always know unless you tell us," she murmured as she patted his shoulder. "Let's see if there's anything I can do."
He shrugged and stood up, following her to the back area where the medical supplies and extra uniforms were kept. Out of sight of the strangers, she helped him ease out of the aerated jacket, checking him over for lingering wounds with a practiced eye before she let him change his bloody, tattered shirt for a fresh, new one.
Piotr looked at Kitty. "Who are you people?"
"We're the X-Men," she said proudly. "We're…special. Just like you."
Piotr stared at her. He had known from the news that there were other mutants out there. He had been so preoccupied with keeping his secret that he had never even dreamed of meeting others like himself.
"I owe you a debt for saving my sister. Do you always risk so much for strangers?"
"Yep. It's our job."
"You are insane, yes?"
"Yep." She smiled sweetly at him and he smiled back.
He looked down at Illyana. "Are you okay with this?"
"I'm okay, Piotr. They are just like you. Special."
Mystique limped through a wooded park cursing to herself. "Damn, damn, damn that fucking son of a bitch!"
She didn't mean to say that out loud and quickly looked over her shoulder, half expecting the Wolverine to spring out of the inky darkness and gut her on the spot. He had almost killed her. If she hadn't pumped all her remaining bullets into his chest to slow him down she wouldn't have made it. As it was she half slid, half fell down the fire escape. He was back on her trail quickly and it was a miracle she had escaped. If it hadn't been for that truck…She shivered. Shit, she could not let fear get her like this. She was Raven Darkholme, the awesome Mystique. Something had to give and it wouldn't be her. She made it to a car and broke in, hotwiring the ignition with the skill of the veteran thief she was.
A plan began to form. She had to get rid of him. Magneto's latest scheme came to mind but she quickly dismissed it. She didn't care if Magneto needed Wolverine or not, she was going to kill him. No, not just kill him, ruin his life and then kill him. She might need a little help, but it would be worth it. Mystique's face twisted with the evil thoughts that coursed through her brain. If you want to catch a wolverine off-guard, you have to catch him where he feels safest, in his den. She gunned the engine and changed into a nondescript older male.
"Watch your back, Wolverine. This bitch is going to bite you in the ass."
Piotr had just finished getting dressed when a knock graced the door.
"One moment." He rose and was going to open it when the knocker burst in, apparently too excited to wait for niceties.
"Hi! I'm Bobby. I was hoping you'd be up by now," said a lanky young man with unruly blonde hair.
Piotr shook hands and looked back out the window to recheck the glorious sunshine.
"I'm afraid I don't know what time it is or even what day it is," he ventured.
"It's Tuesday afternoon. You and your sister were so tired out that the Professor sent us all a brain bulletin not to wake you."
Brain bulletin? He had to get used to strange things and terminology. Good thing he had decided to study English as his foreign language in school. Not that he was excellent at it, but he could get by. Absently he wondered if anyone other than Logan spoke Russian around here. He looked down at Bobby.
"Where are we, by the way?"
"Let me give you the nickel tour and you can ask questions on the way. I'm sure you're starved. Your sister already ate and is running around with the other kids." He smiled warmly and led the way into the hall.
Kids? There were other children here? All Piotr remembered was a large hangar and a few hallways. Now that he was alert and the sun was out, the full impact of the mansion struck him.
"This place is magnificent! Is it a castle?"
"Nope, but it is a mansion." Bobby had been told to show him everything but the X-Men training and equipment areas and Cerebro. "It's also a school," he said as they walked by one of the classrooms.
Piotr peeked in and was rewarded by stares and giggles from the children as he interrupted the lesson. He looked for the teacher and was surprised to see the red-haired woman from the mission. He turned back to Bobby.
"We were rescued by teachers?"
"And a student."
"Unbelievable. Lead on, please."
They visited the dining hall where Rasputin grabbed a small snack to ease the plaintive pleas of his stomach. Then he and Bobby saw the rest of the classrooms, the labs, the library, and the media and game rooms. Surprisingly, Bobby found that Piotr reacted the most to the gardens on the last stop of the tour.
"How beautiful this must be in the summer! How sad to miss it."
"It is beautiful," smiled Bobby. "I love to study out here. But you'll see them bloom out soon enough, won't you?"
"I do not know that we will be staying. Illyana and I need to find the rest of our family. They might have made it to America or they might have died, I do not know for sure what happened that night." He sighed and sat on a garden bench.
Bobby noticed it creaked the way it did when Logan sat on it. The dude must weigh close to three hundred pounds then. He certainly was tall. Even sitting he looked impressive and intimidating. At least, he would have looked fierce if he didn't have such a sad face. Bobby felt sorry for him.
"Have you told the Professor this?"
Piotr looked up. "Who is this Professor? When can I meet him? I wish to ask him much."
"Then go ask him." Logan appeared without warning from behind a hedge.
Startled, Piotr stood quickly and glanced at Bobby to see if he had heard the soundless approach.
"How do you not make noise on gravel?" asked Bobby.
Logan chuckled. "Who said I walked on the gravel?" He turned to Piotr. "Chuck's been wanting to see you."
"Chuck?"
"The Professor's name is Charles Xavier," Bobby volunteered. "Logan's the only one who calls him Chuck."
"So, you have a fondness for butchering people's names, huh? It is good to see you today, my friend. I was trying to figure out where my sister is and if I should check up on her." Longing to hear Russian again, Piotr had lapsed into his native tongue.
Sure enough, Logan, who had just been distracted by the view over Bobby's shoulder, absently replied back in kind. "I just saw Illyana out with the other kids. She seems fine. I was thinking of letting her join my class shortly. Any objections?"
Bobby looked behind him and spotted Rogue and Kitty walking on the far side of the garden. Piotr admired the view also and, when Bobby turned back, blushed a deep red when caught looking.
"That's good to hear. Thank you for keeping an eye on her," he stammered lamely, not really remembering what Logan had said.
Logan knew that scent and turned sharply towards Rasputin.
Bobby was confused. They were speaking Russian and he couldn't understand what was being said. All he knew was that Piotr looked like a kid with his hand stuck in a cookie jar and Logan, nostrils flaring, was looking hard at the big man.
"Tell me, what are the names of those two young women?" Rasputin tried hard to sound casual, but his heart was beating too fast to fool Logan.
"You met Shadowcat the other night." The big man's heart skipped a beat and Logan relaxed.
"Yes, of course. And the other one?"
"That's Rogue." Ah, no change in the heartbeat this time. Logan was satisfied that the object of affection was Kitty only.
Iceman's ears latched on the words 'Shadowcat' and 'Rogue'. Was the big guy interested in them? What if he wanted to date one of them? What if he wanted to date the wrong one?
"Something up, guys?" Bobby was hoping against hope he was wrong and wanted to steer the conversation back into English just to make sure.
Logan snorted. "I've gotta go." With that he walked off.
"Bobby," Piotr started hesitantly, "are the Shadowcat and the Rogue best of friends?"
"Yeah, I guess. Shadowcat's name is Kitty." Don't get interested in Rogue, Bobby thought.
Piotr closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and reopened them. "And the Rogue?"
"That's her only name: Rogue." Don't go there, big guy.
"Please introduce me to Rogue, yes?"
Bobby's heart sank. "Sure, whenever," he replied.
"How about right now?"
She always kept her victims under surveillance for three days. Just long enough for her to get a pattern down but short enough for them not to notice being spied on. With this victim she was taking no chances of being spotted and had even increased the distance so she wouldn't leave any scent. The problem was her audio equipment wasn't as good as her visual array and she was forced to watch him without listening. Mystique had witnessed what happened in the garden. Wolverine was blunt and had walked away after only a short conversation. Short and sweet, she liked that. What was a wolf like him doing among all these sheep anyway? Well, she'd find out soon enough. She'd watch him for three days and then strike on Friday. She chuckled to herself. Even if he survived, he wouldn't want to live after what she was going to do.
The survival class went well. Xavier had told Logan to step up the pace and he did, wondering how the younger kids would take it. They did just fine and he found himself very pleased with their progress on recognizing dangerous situations and planning escape routes.
Illyana had been a big hit, diving right in and asking loads of smart questions. The other kids did have to remind him at one point to speak English, though. The playful look in Illyana's eyes told him that her brother had snitched on Logan's language glitch. Logan chuckled to himself. He'd get the big guy back, no problem.
Marie walked up just as Logan dismissed the students.
"How's it going? She asked before giving him a small kiss on the mouth.
"How'd you do that?" Megan had come up from behind to pester two of her favorite people. "How'd you kiss him?" Marie held up a tube of lip balm. "Oh," Megan rolled her eyes, "I thought…"
"You thought what, squirt?" Logan grabbed the small girl and pitched her into the air.
Giggling, Megan managed to squeeze out a full flip with a half twist before landing on her feet, facing them. She held out her arms.
"Again, please?"
"No. It's almost dinnertime and you need to help set the tables. You also need to rescue Illyana from Autumn or she'll be hearing nothing but facts about penguins all evening."
"Gotcha," Megan started a mad dash for her retreating group of friends and then skidded to a halt. "Hey, wait a minute! Don't you need to ask me what I want for my birthday?"
Marie stifled a laugh. "What do you mean, kitten? What birthday?"
"It's on Friday and you know it. Don't I get a party? Aren't you going to make pizzas?" Putting hands on hips, she directed this at Logan, who feigned ignorance.
He turned to Marie. "Were we supposed to have a party Friday? I don't seem to remember…"
Megan realized she was being toyed with and grinned from ear to ear. "Don't forget to make a pizza for Dutch!" With that she raced on ahead to rescue her new friend from a fateful date with penguins.
Logan called out after her, "Dogs don't eat pizza!" To Marie, he said, "Actually, the mutt does like black olives."
"Logan! Tell me you didn't feed him pizza!"
"I didn't say I fed him pizza, I just said he has a thing for black olives." He winked at her and she winked back.
They intertwined hands and walked toward the mansion doors, a companionable silence having settled between them. Logan brought their interlaced fingers to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. The soft silk of her gloves tickled his nose with a certain scent.
"What did he say?" he finally asked.
"Who?"
"Rasputin."
She glared at him. "How did you know?" She rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me, you can still smell him, can't you?"
Logan's eyes twinkled mischievously.
"Ah swear it's almost impossible to keep something from you."
"You did a good job with Dutch. I never knew he was in the place."
"Sugar, Ah think you would have if you hadn't been so busy chasing that snake." She snorted softly.
"So was I right?"
She sighed and smiled. "You were right. He's definitely interested. He's painfully shy about it though. He's going to need some help just to ask her out. Ah have my work cut out for me." She saw the frown on Logan's face. "What?"
"Well, we really don't know that much about him…"
"You're gonna play big brother on this? You?" She squeezed his hand. "Ah think that's sweet and all, but Ah've got a good feeling about him. Don't worry."
"I never figured you for a matchmaker. What about St. John? He likes her."
"He never made a move. His loss. And Remy's now leaning more for Jubes. Ah say it's perfect timing."
"I say it's meddling. Let it happen naturally."
Scott strode around the corner of the building, heading for the same entrance as the now arguing couple. His steps began to falter when he heard what they were saying.
"Ah say Ah can pull it off." Marie started.
"And I'm saying we don't know much about him," countered Logan.
"You just don't think Ah can do it," she retorted. "Ah'll have you know Ah'm far more capable than you think."
He swallowed his next remark and went instead with a calmer tone, saying, "I'm not going to stop you. You know that." He was trying hard to reign in his temper.
Still oblivious to the effect she was having on Logan, Marie took this as a sign of him coming over to her side. "Good. You can help me with him."
Logan's jaw twitched. "That's not something I'm into. You're on your own. Just let me know when you're done with him and you've gotten this out of your system." He dropped her hand and strode up the steps and through the doors.
She stared open-mouthed at the doors for a second. Then she flung her hands in the air and shouted to the door, "You're being awfully close-minded about this! I bet Piotr's more open to suggestions than you are!" She spotted Scott out of the corner of her eye. Turning on him, she said, "Men! Honestly!" Stomping up the steps, she went through the doors just like Logan had.
Scott stood there for a few minutes, trying to wrap his brain around what he had just heard. Bobby had come to him with some cock-eyed story of Piotr ogling Rogue and he had brushed him off, not believing a word. Now here was Rogue apparently getting ready to go after the big Russian. Was Logan really going to sit there and let her do it? Scott shook his head. It was too much of a tangle for him to sort out.
So, the bitch from the Statue of Liberty was the girlfriend. It looked like there was trouble in paradise, then. Mystique fantasized about how she would handle him if he were her lover, then she frowned. She wasn't going to handle him; she was going to kill him. Priorities were priorities after all.
Logan barely ate at dinner and later went to the gym to work off some anger before checking the grounds for the evening. He was annoyed that Marie would even think he would have doubts about her doing anything. He just didn't like to see her setting all of this up when Piotr could turn out to be some kind of playboy and hurt Kitty.
As he carefully moved through the underbrush and around the perimeter of the mansion's acreage, a sudden thought crossed his mind. Was he just being protective of a student? Or was he going overboard because Kitty was a female? If he really thought his students were capable of handling anything, then that meant anything, even their love lives. Was he treating them differently? How come he was not as concerned about the guys as he was the girls?
He sighed. Marie was right, then. This could be the perfect opportunity for Kitty to branch out. She wasn't really interested in anyone here, unless you counted her crush on Scott. Maybe an outside source of affection was what she needed. Piotr certainly was smitten with her and she was interested in him. He had been forced to endure all sorts of telling scents on the way back from Russia. Logan snorted and shook his head. He really needed to get over not trusting strangers. Piotr did not strike him as a deceitful person so maybe he should just let it go and follow Marie's advice.
He prowled around until he was satisfied that the uneasy feeling in his gut was probably the leftover anger he had from arguing with Marie. He would make it up to her in the morning, he thought, as he made his way back in anticipation of a midnight arrival.
Mystique could barely make out the dark shadow that seemed to flit across the lawns and blend seamlessly in with the trees. God, he was good. No night attack would work against him that's for sure. Maybe one in the morning, though, when he would be more relaxed. Yes, definitely the morning. She yawned and stretched, anticipating the good night's sleep to come.
At midnight a lone jeep pulled into the garage. Two bundled occupants extracted a few pieces of luggage from the back and hurried into the main part of the building and into the kitchen, where the bigger one began to shed a massive overcoat, hat and scarf. Piotr entered the area, intent on a midnight snack, and promptly stopped in his tracks.
"What on Earth?" This in Russian.
"Who are you?" This in English.
The slight edge Piotr had in height was offset by the large furry man's breadth. They studied each other intently, not knowing the other's objective.
"Now, now. Shake hands and be nice." Logan was leaning against the far doorway of the kitchen, enjoying himself immensely.
"Logan!" Hank started over to shake hands but quickly turned around to rescue Ororo from her struggles with her coat. She thanked him with a kiss and he blushed.
"Who's this? Does he speak English?" She gracefully moved over and planted a kiss on Wolverine's cheek. "The vacation was wonderful. Thanks so much for your help."
Logan smiled. "I thought the cabin would suit you two."
"It was as breathtaking as it was isolated. We even used your suggestions traversing the border and had no difficulties with the Canadian authorities." Hank finally shook hands with the older man.
"Hank, Ororo, this is Pete."
Pete? Piotr regained his manners and his senses and stuck out a hand. "My name is actually Piotr Nikolaievitch Rasputin and I am very pleased to know you."
"That's a mouthful," laughed Ororo as her hand disappeared in the giant's huge one. "I'm Ororo Munroe. I believe he's taller than you are, sweetheart."
"Yes, and he's wearing my trousers." Hank, too, shook hands. "I'm Henry McCoy. Is something bothering you?" He winked at Storm.
Piotr blushed. He did not mean to stare but he had never seen anything like the couple.
"I'm sorry for the trousers. My sister and I fled from our home with nothing. I know I am looking at you hard, but…you happen to be my favorite color of blue."
"I like him already," snickered Ororo.
They all laughed and Piotr's nervousness vanished. "My sister will so enjoy meeting you."
"She won't if she's a student here. I teach chemistry, basic mathematics, and philosophy. Children boo me as I go down the hall."
Ororo slapped him on the arm. "You big goof. They love you and you know it." She turned to Piotr. "Please pardon us. It has been a long day and a very long drive and both of us have classes in the morning."
"Of course. It was a pleasure meeting with you."
They left and Piotr glared at Logan. "You knew I'd be up and you didn't warn me. Now I look like an idiot," he blurted in Russian.
"Stop speaking to me in Russian without warning and I won't keep pulling fast ones on you." Logan responded in kind.
"Is that a challenge?" A devilish smile appeared on Rasputin's mouth.
"Do you think you're up to it?"
"You are talking to the reigning champion of one-upmanship at Grinkovitch Steel Works. Do you really think you can beat me?"
A feral grin was his only reply.
Later that morning Piotr and Illyana had a long session with Xavier, where he promised them he would look into their family's disappearance. He also made them agree to stay, for their own safety, at the mansion for at least a month while he worked on their problem. He intimated the position of the Brotherhood and emphasized that their recruitment tactics and activities were at least as bad, if not worse, than those of the men Piotr had dealt with in Russia.
They made arrangements for Illyana to join in with the students her age, even though she did not show any mutant tendencies. Having a brother who was 'special' had exposed her to the troubles and tribulations of being so different and had given her a sympathy that Xavier felt would be good for the other students to see. The thirteen-year-old was fast making friends and delighted in the oddities of the large 'family' at the mansion.
Piotr showed a great interest in helping out with the maintenance and chores at the mansion and also professed a desire to spend some time painting. Charles immediately fired off a mental note to Jean and by the time Piotr went back to his room, he found it well supplied with all sorts of artistic materials, much to his amazement.
"What are you doing?"
Logan looked up. It was now late Wednesday evening and he was trying to make the dough for the pizzas two days ahead so he could prepare the rest of the ingredients at his leisure.
"I'm cooking."
"You cook?" Eyebrows went skyward.
"Okay, I'm making a mess."
"Now that I can believe," said Piotr as he walked all the way into the kitchen. "Can I help?"
"You can tomorrow. After my survival class, I need to take down a dead tree on the edge of the grounds. Chuck 'saw' some of the kids playing around it and he wants it cleaned up before it falls and hurts one of them."
"How could he see that?"
Logan looked up. "He's a telepath. Didn't he tell you?"
Piotr was surprised. "No, and I guess I didn't think to ask. Is that how he found me?"
Logan nodded as he dumped some sugar and yeast into some warm water.
"That smells really good," continued the Russian.
"You have no idea."
"That reminds me, my friend. How did you know the plant where I worked was filled with Tuberculosis? You said you could smell it. Is that your mutation, a keen sense of smell?" He saw the nod and hesitated. "Can you tell if someone has the disease, then?"
Brown eyes met blue ones. "Yes, I can. Don't worry, I wouldn't have let you or your sister fly in a plane with the others if I knew you had it."
"We do not have it then?" Piotr let out a breath. "You have no idea how much that worried me, working at a place where I could bring something like that home to my sister. It was the only paying job I could find and…"
Scott walked through the door and stopped. Oh shit, he thought, they're in the same room together. Well, no blood had been shed yet; maybe it was all in his head, like Jean had suggested. He told himself to act naturally.
"What's eating you?" Logan asked, for the expression on Scott's face was almost comical.
"For Pete's sake, Logan, speak English, will you?" Scott walked up to the island table. "Are these for Megan's party Friday? Why isn't Rogue helping you?"
A low growl answered him. Logan was staring intently at Piotr, who was turning red and backing away from him, a sly smile on his face.
"All right. That does it, shorty. Tomorrow your ass is mine. Expect it when you least expect it." Logan glared meaningfully at the now retreating giant.
"I look forward to it. I told you I was the champion." Piotr sang out as he left.
"Something I said?" asked Scott.
"No."
At that moment Rogue walked in and Scott went from nervous to downright uncomfortable.
"Ah just saw the big Russian bear laughing in the hall," she said as she perched herself on the edge of the island. "Hello, Scott. Jean and the Professor already leave?"
"Uh, yeah." Scott remembered what Logan had done to the last bear he tangled with.
"They'll be back Friday, won't they?" Logan surveyed his dough mixture critically. Perhaps he was making too much.
"They weren't sure. It all depends on if they get a lead on Piotr's family." Scott glanced nervously from one to the other. "If they find something, it may be Monday before they get back."
"Sugar, Ah hope you find some army to help us eat all the pizzas you're gonna make with this mess of dough."
Logan chuckled, "I think you're right. This may be too much."
"Just like you said Ah was right this morning, when you brought me breakfast in bed?" She could not resist the opportunity to tease him.
"Yes."
"And you're gonna help me with Piotr, right? Just like you promised?"
Logan growled. He turned to Scott. "Women. The things they ask you to do." He turned back to her. "Yes I will help you. Happy?"
"Happy." She gave Logan a stunning smile.
Scott didn't even say goodnight. He just left the room shaking his head.
"Look, fangface, I expected you here this morning. Don't start whining to me about Magneto. He's not out here to protect your ass if I feel like kicking it and I'm feeling like it needs to be kicked." Raven rolled her eyes as she listened to the other end of the line. "Alright, pervert, I can do that, too, as long you get the stuff and get over here by tonight."
Logan had climbed up the huge dead trunk using only a long strap of leather belting that looped around his waist and the tree. He was removing some of the upper limbs when Piotr showed up.
"Why not cut it down and cut it up on the ground?" asked the big man.
"Are we speaking Russian or English?"
"English."
Logan looked down. "There are some good trees surrounding this one. I didn't want to have one of 'em get hurt when this big one goes. I don't want to cut up any more wood than I have to."
"I see. What should I do?"
"There's not much room around here. Start dragging the limbs over to that clearing and we'll cut them up there."
They worked until nothing was left but the trunk. Logan prepared to climb higher up to lop the top off when he heard an ominous crack. He felt the trunk shift under him and he realized, if it went, the oak would head straight for the young man below.
"Run!"
Logan dropped the saw and shot out his blades, slicing with one hand as he stabbed and twisted with the other. It worked. The tree was now collapsing and folding back on itself, unfortunately Logan was going to get caught in the middle. He heard a shredding sound, as if paper or rotten cloth was being ripped in two. Logan sliced the leather belt even as the lower trunk tilted crazily beneath him and headed for the ground. He tumbled with it and landed on top, claws bared to slice the upper half before it crushed him. The log never came down. Logan looked over and felt his jaw drop.
A metal giant stood there holding up the upper half of the tree as if it weighed less than nothing. With negligent ease it carried the log over to the clearing and set it down.
"Are you okay?" The voice was a booming magnification of Piotr's, only it sounded like he was at the bottom of a well.
Logan's eyes narrowed. "That's quite a sight, there, Pete."
"It's my mutation. My skin converts to a skin of living metal, which makes me impervious to harm. I also am extremely strong. It does take an effort to keep this form, though; I have to concentrate to be like this." Piotr had lapsed into Russian to explain it better. He switched back to English. "How did you cut the tree without using the saw?"
"The saw's not sharp compared to these." He held up the blades.
"You are metal on the inside?"
"There's metal coated over every bone, yeah. That's not my mutation, though." The claws retracted and Piotr was astonished to see Logan's hands heal right before his eyes. "My senses are enhanced and my body heals from almost anything."
"If your senses are enhanced, then the knives must be painful, yes?" Logan nodded. "It is painful for me to change, too." They looked at each other in sympathy.
"Don't mention the claws to the younger kids. The older kids know because they can handle it."
"I understand." He paused. "Your uniform is not bullet-proof, is it?" asked Piotr as he suddenly understood what kind of man Logan was.
"No, it isn't."
"I owe you now more than ever."
Logan looked over at the huge log. "I'd say we're just about even.
"Rogue, can I ask you something about Piotr?" Kitty bit her lip nervously.
"Shoot."
"Are you interested in him?"
Jubilee howled with laughter.
Marie tried to stay serious for her friend's sake. "Ah believe he's not my type Kitty. Ah prefer someone more…"
"Dangerous?" Jubilee could barely catch her breath.
"…rough around the edges. Why?"
"Well, Bobby said Piotr was interested in you and that you and he talked and…"
"If you want to know the truth about something, go straight to the source." Marie's temper flared. "Piotr is nice and sweet and definitely not for me. When we talked, it was about you."
"Really? I'm so glad! I thought Bobby was full of it." Kitty looked a lot more at ease.
"Bobby's always full of it, chica," Jubilee said. "So, why the interest in the Russian giant?"
"He asked me out," Kitty squealed. "He wants to date me. Can you believe it?"
"Really?" Marie feigned surprise.
"Man, of all the luck," Jubilee frowned. "Fresh meat and look who gets it, little miss 'I'm too shy for my own good'." She winked at Rogue, "I can always take it out on my little Cajun buddy, I suppose."
"Are you really upset, Jubes?" Kitty's enthusiasm had taken a nose-dive.
Jubilee hastily rectified the situation. "I'm jealous, Kitty, nothing more. I need to have someone pay me the kind of attention a first date deserves. I want Remy to work for my affection."
"You couldn't play hard to get if you wanted to," snickered Marie. "You're far too outgoing to be a demure damsel that has to be won."
Jubilee snorted at the thought. "I guess you're right."
"Right about what?"
Bobby and the others entered the media room.
"Nothing," the three women chorused.
"Whatever," Bobby replied as he fell into one of the soft chairs. "We were going over what we wanted to do for Megan's birthday. Any new ideas?"
"Why not another wonderland, like you did at Christmas. Ah confess, Ah loved the slides." Marie's face flushed, remembering Logan's thoughtful gift that night.
"Well, we thought of doing a castle this time with slides in the turrets," offered St. John. He glanced shyly over at Kitty to see if this impressed her.
"Oh, I like it," she said.
Jubilee nodded. "There should be something else, too."
"That is what I thought. Megan loves a challenge. We need to come up with some sort of game." Remy sighed. "What would go with a castle?"
"A dragon to climb on?" Marie offered.
"Wait! How about a maze? We could set it up with our present in the middle and she has to get to it." Jubilee looked over at Bobby. "We don't ask much of you, do we?"
"No," Bobby laughed. He looked over at St. John. "Let's see how clear we can get the ice this time. If she can see through the walls, it will make it twice as tough." He saw Rogue's face and added, "I can do a dragon, too."
"And I'll light it up with a fireworks show." Jubilee patted Rogue's shoulder.
Logan had waited until the kids were in bed before he went to the kitchen to make the sauce and cut up the rest of the ingredients.
"Tomorrow's the big day. Need some help?" Marie slipped in and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"If those hands go any lower, I won't get this done."
She chuckled wickedly and went over to stir the sauce, sneaking a taste when she thought he wasn't looking. When she walked back, Logan kissed her and licked his lips.
"Might need more oregano…"
"Auurgh," she hit him. "Do you have eyes in the back of your head or what?"
"Or what."
Marie hopped up on the kitchen island and looked over the ingredients. Logan could tell that she really wasn't seeing what was in front of her, but decided to let her tell him what was bothering her in her own time. She sighed. Here it comes, he thought.
"Sugar, Ah heard a rumor today that Ah didn't like."
"Did it have something to do with you and a certain Russian?" She stared at him. "I heard it, too."
She watched as he finished cutting up ingredients and then separated them into baggies for tomorrow's assembly line. He seemed fine: no temper, no jealousy, no flaring of the nostrils. She had expected a rampage.
"It isn't true," she offered.
He stopped. "You don't honestly think I'd believe something like that, do you? I'll admit I don't have a whole hell of a lot of faith in people, but I do have faith in you. Why would you even worry about it?"
He heard her heartbeat return to normal and her scent signaled that she was more relaxed. He would have known if she was going after Piotr the instant he smelled her, but he didn't want her to know that. He did trust her, completely. Part of his brain rebelled. Others had always failed him, taken advantage of him and used him. He reminded himself that this place was different and these people were different and he could actually be a human here, not always an animal worried about getting stabbed in the back.
She flung her arms around his neck. "What did Ah do to deserve you?"
"Must have been something bad," he chuckled.
Dutch nosed the door open and wandered in, sniffing the floor hopefully. Finding two humans locked in a hug, he yipped at them, hoping they would throw some food his way. The male growled and Dutch answered back playfully with some barks. Maybe they would play with him instead.
"You two are so much alike."
"Yeah, we're both animals," Logan growled and he claimed her mouth.
The kiss was extremely passionate. Marie felt herself drown in it and enjoyed the heady sensations it brought on. Logan let his basic needs come to the surface, forgetting that this was a dangerous thing. His hands began to wander and one ended up on the back of her neck, tangled in her hair, while the other found the small of her back and the slight gap between her pants and her shirt. It took a minute for Marie to grasp that he was touching her skin. As soon as she did, she felt the shock that came before an energy transfer. She pushed against him with all her might but he continued to kiss until her skin took charge and lashed out. It only lasted a few seconds but he had been touching her in two places and went down like a shot.
He awoke to find himself on the floor with a beautiful but concerned young woman hovering over him and Dutch licking his ear. He began to laugh.
"It's not funny," she cried. "Ah could have hurt you."
"Tell me it's not funny to kiss a beautiful woman and end up on the floor being kissed by a dog." She began to grin. "I bet you got a head full that time." He had been thinking of all sorts of ways he could make love to her.
"Tell me something, sugar, was it you or Amber that came up with those ideas?" Her face flushed and he could smell the change in her chemistry.
Instantly aroused again, he held up a hand. She helped him get to his feet and found herself engulfed in his embrace. He nuzzled her neck and sent shivers down her spine. Still hungry from the last kiss, she tilted her head up and begged for another with parted lips. He complied and they both spent a breathless moment melting into each other. Finally, he broke off.
"Let's put this stuff away." He looked deep into her eyes, wanting desperately to show her just how much he loved her. "I need you."
She read his mind perfectly for his thoughts coursed through hers. "Ah'm all yours."
Mystique's eyes opened and she looked outside. It was still dark. She had been tossing and turning most of the evening. Normally she was relaxed about a kill; not this time. An arm flung itself across her face, a big hairy arm attached to a big hairy body. Damn animal. Why did she give in anyway? Because he was good at it, she reminded herself with a little smile. Afterwards, though, she remembered just how hairy and big he was, taking over the bed and lying on top of her. All that hair, ugh. One of these days she was going to shave him in his sleep. She fantasized about what it would be like to sleep with a man who didn't have a hairy chest. Did Wolverine have a hairy chest? She would pretend he didn't. Maybe before she killed him, she'd find out.
She rolled out from under Sabertooth's arm and quickly gathered her things into two bags, a duffle for the rifle and a small backpack for the pistol, the mint, and the radio. She glanced around to make sure she didn't need anything else. The empty bottle of vodka caught her eye. It always amazed her how much Sabertooth could drink and never feel it. She picked it up along with the paper bag it had been in. Might come in handy, she mused.
A low growl filled the room. She turned and saw the big hairy oaf's eyes looking at her.
"Let's fuck," he mumbled.
"Sorry big boy, I've got someplace I'd rather be. I'll call you when I need you."
He grunted in response and rolled over, tangling himself even more in the sheets. Even his ass is hairy, she noticed and she shivered. The things she did for sex.
It had been better than he had ever dreamed. Making love to a woman who loved him beat out getting his urges off with a slut who wanted a roll big time. They had to work on it, he admitted. It had been her first time. It had been a first for him, too. It was both erotic and frustrating to learn how to touch without touching and satisfy without using skin on skin.
He looked down at the woman cuddled on his chest and side. She was beautiful. And deadly, he thought. He chuckled. Oh what a way to go. She was dressed in his pajamas, including the tops, which he never wore. He was dressed in…he peeked under the sheet, nothing. He slid out from under her and the sheet, leaving her curled up on the top of the blanket. By the time she woke up and noticed he was not with her, he was already putting on his running shoes. He looked over at her as she stretched. Her sleepy eyes and tousled hair made her look even more sexy, if that was possible.
"Hey, sleepyhead, you look gorgeous." His face told her all she needed to know. "Thanks for last night."
"My pleasure, sugar, believe me." He meant everything to her. "Ah love you."
"I love you, too."
He leaned over to kiss the top of her head and she reached up and snagged the tag around his neck.
"Ah'll keep it warm for you."
"You don't have to, I'll be back in a minute." He took the tag off, nonetheless, and draped it around her neck. It nestled between her breasts and felt warm against her skin.
"Ah know, but Ah like having a piece of you with me. It makes me feel like Ah'm part of you."
"You just love me for my body," he growled as he nuzzled her.
"You got that right."
Piotr was in the kitchen, bleary eyed and searching for something to make coffee in.
"Want me to make it for you?" Logan said as he downed a cup of water before heading out the door.
"No thanks. I hear the coffee you make is not for drinking."
"Ouch," chuckled Logan. "My pizzas are edible."
"I hear that, too. You are in a good mood. Nice dreams?" Piotr yawned.
"The best."
"You will let me help make the pizzas today for little Megan, yes?"
"Yeah, sure." He eyed the clock. "I'll have to hurry."
"Have a good run."
Logan snorted and left.
He put his body on automatic as he let his mind drift. While he thought about what he had to do, where he needed to be, and how he wanted to make love to Marie again, his senses catalogued the world around him. He was now deep in the small woods and the scenery along with the smells changed. They would never believe him if he told them of all the creatures that lived even in that small patch of wilderness. Well, it really wasn't that small, but it seemed that way when compared to the vast acreage of Northern Canada.
An alarm went off. Something was out of place. Mint? Mint didn't grow here. Instantly realizing the traditional use of mint was to mask a hunter's scent, Logan ducked and dove for the nearest cover. He never made it.
Such a sweet thing. Such a pretty thing. It was one of her favorite toys. Not many women considered a grenade rifle an accessory. She did. Mystique looked down on the man, or at least what was left of him. The grenade had hit his lowest rib on the right hand side. Not one of her best shots, but it would do. She almost missed him, he had been that unpredictable. She had expected him to come up the slope in an entirely different direction. Good thing she had excellent reflexes, too.
Even as she appreciated the mess she had just made, she couldn't help admiring him. Time to fuck up his life, she thought. She made a careful note of everything he wore and, as she did so, noticed that his internal organs were starting to heal. Damn, he was faster than Sabertooth. She had to slow him down or she wouldn't have enough time. Out came the empty bottle of vodka. With the bag wrapped around its neck, she slammed it on the metal of the exposed rib. It shattered with the force and huge shards embedded themselves inside him, some disappearing in the mess of blood and entrails. Even if he did heal, that would slow him down. She pulled out the radio.
"Here, kitty, kitty," she purred.
"You got him?"
"He's all yours. Don't kill him until I get back."
Pyro had made some sort of excuse and left the others, saying he'd be back shortly. He ran to intercept Logan as he exited the woods and headed for the mansion.
Damn, Mystique thought, he's going to cut me off. She slowed her trot and waited for him. They were in full sight of the other students who were building what looked like some sort of castle out of ice. Why on earth the stupid shits would do that was beyond her.
"Wait, I need to ask you something," the young man panted.
Not in good shape, are you, you little nerd. She decided to grunt. He didn't look like this was an odd response. So far so good, Mystique thought.
He hated to ask Logan, but Logan was the only one who knew about his crush on Kitty. Maybe he would know what to do.
"I need some advice. I just overheard Kitty say that she was going to an art exhibit with Piotr next Saturday. She promised me she would go to the RCV demo at the mall on the same day. What am I going to do? Should I call her on it?"
Whine, whine, whine, blah, blah, blah, she had things she needed to get done. She couldn't gut him here, too many witnesses. She'd have to find someone else to be the first victim. Mystique cleared her throat and shifted her small leather backpack.
"So, you think she forgot you?" She watched him bite his lip. "Then fuck her. There are others. Don't sweat it." She trotted off, hoping that would satisfy him as she headed for the nearest door.
St. John scratched his head as he went to rejoin the group. Sometimes Logan gave very weird advice.
Logan's eyes snapped open but he did not move. The smell told him he was hurt, badly hurt. It also told him there had been an explosion. He couldn't remember hearing it. He felt some pain but not enough and he realized he could not feel the lower half of his body. His left arm was pinned under him so he reached back with his right, carefully running his fingertips along the spine. He pulled a small piece of shrapnel free and immediately regretted it as pain hit his system with an unbelievable jolt, knocking him senseless again.
Megan skipped along the hall looking for her favorite pest. She saw Logan enter through the doors and started grinning. She launched into a summersault run, gaining speed with each twist and flip. She finished with a full double and anticipated the landing. He sidestepped and did not catch her. It was too late to recover and she hit the floor, on her side, with a jarring thud. Stars danced in her field of vision as she looked up at her hero.
"Don't mess with me kid. I'm not in the mood." She had bigger fish to fry.
Megan watched him walk away as tears filled her eyes and her lip trembled. She laid her head on the floor and cried. Then she noticed something. The floor smelled funny. She lifted her head and sniffed again. It wasn't the floor that smelled odd, it was his shoes that did. Wait a minute, what shoes? This smelled like skin. There wasn't any clothing smell at all, just a leather bag. In fact, Logan didn't even smell like Logan. He smelled like a…woman?
Megan sat up and whistled three times for Dutch. It took a minute, but the shaggy puppy, who was now close to three months of age and weighed almost forty pounds, came bounding to her side, paws splayed for the stop. She watched him. Her nose might be clogged due to crying so she would let him be the deciding vote. She tapped the floor where Logan was supposed to have been. He sniffed it. Then he sniffed it again and began to growl. That settles it, she thought, as she dusted herself off. There was a stranger here and she needed to tell somebody, quickly.
He could feel his legs, now, but he could not move them yet. He smelled Mystique and growled. The scent was not extremely fresh and it was mixed heavily with mint, something a hunter would do to throw off the senses of his prey. She would be back for him, of that he was sure. How could he get her in this condition? He looked around and up. A tree, a rather large one, was within arm's reach. He looked over his shoulder at the terrain behind him. It just might work if he could angle it right. There was even a small bush in front of the trunk that would hide the danger from sight. He rolled a little and freed up his left arm. Pulling down on the undergrowth in front of the trunk, he popped the blades on the other hand and swiped out a substantial piece of wood. He let the undergrowth snap back into place, neatly covering the gap. All he could do now was wait for his attacker to return and pray that the wind didn't topple the tree before he did.
Scott rounded the corner and ran headlong into Mystique/Logan.
"Watch where you're going!" The false Logan growled ominously. She remembered watching them at the Statue of Liberty. Logan hated this little prick.
"I'm surprised you didn't hear me," retorted Scott. "Chill, will you? It was an accident."
"Fuck off."
"Hey, asshole, don't take it out on me just because your girlfriend is looking elsewhere." He paused. "Although why you're letting her go is beyond me."
Mystique stared. The girlfriend was cheating? On this gorgeous hunk of flesh? She looked down at herself in shock.
"Don't tell me you didn't know." Scott watched the body language of the man in front of him. It was stiff and defensive, confused in a way. "I thought you were even helping her look. You mean you didn't want her to leave you? Then what's the deal?"
Logan looked around as if confused. "Where was I going?"
"Your room maybe?" He received a blank stare. This had knocked Logan for a loop. "Down the hall, around the corner and first on the left? Remember?"
"Yeah." A sly smile seemed to dart across Logan's face. "I remember. Maybe I'll just go fishing for another dish. Maybe something in red."
He sauntered off and Scott was at a loss. What the hell? He was down the hall and almost to the garage when he realized what Logan had meant.
Look in the closet, quickly, she told herself. Jeans and boots, obviously, and they appeared on her lower body. She left her upper torso in naked human form as she raced over to look at the shirts. Her skin could reproduce almost anything, but she had to give it something to go on. The door busted open and Scott stormed in. His fist caught her and knocked her flat. She just managed to keep Logan's form.
"Stay away from Jean."
Damn, she mused, maybe the little prick had some balls after all.
She got up and retorted, "Out, you little pervert. Or were you looking for something?" Her eyes traveled meaningfully up and down his body. "You want me to get you all fired up? I bet I can make ya forget all about Jean."
The words had come out of Logan's mouth, he had watched the lips move, but his brain told him there was a glitch somewhere. Stunned, Scott simply turned and walked away. Insults were one thing. Logan propositioning him was another. What the fuck was going on with him?
Marie was studying her lab notes in her room when the false Logan waltzed in. She had heard a commotion down the hall earlier, but, since no alarms had been raised, assumed it was nothing. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted him and she fumbled with a gloved hand for the tag as she tried to finish reading the last sections of course materials.
"Just a second, sugar. Ah really need to get this down for the lab later."
It was a good thing she had been taught so well by Logan to simply respond in a dangerous situation. The instant her face felt the white-hot pain of being cut open, she ducked and dived across the room.
"Any whore who cheats on me deserves to be marked." Mystique made a lunge for the bitch.
Even as her eyes grew wide with shock and pain, Marie's hands and feet kept going, slamming a table into Logan to buy her time to flee the room. She raced down the hall, putting distance between her and the danger. It was only when she stopped running that reality sank in. What had just happened? When her glove touched her aching cheek, it came away covered in blood. She began to tremble in shock and rage. How could he? How dare he? He said he trusted her. Well she had trusted him and loved him with everything she was and this is what she got? Angrily she tore the dog tag off and flung it away with all of her might.
Logan heard the approach behind him. This time he was ready for an attack. His legs were tensed for the spring. A slight breeze ruffled the leaves. Sabertooth? Where the hell was Mystique? What was going on? He shoved the questions aside and waited.
Sabertooth grinned. He loved the smell of blood and it was everywhere. God, he loved that woman. Well, at least he lusted after her. Love might have nothing to do with it, considering he didn't have a clue what love was. He approached without caution, believing the man on the ground was as helpless as he looked.
In a flash, Logan shot forward and rolled. He popped a claw and sliced on the other side of the tree trunk. With nothing left to hold it up, the tree crashed down, straight on top of Sabertooth, it's crushing weight pinning the Brotherhood member neatly.
Logan pulled the claw back in and fought to keep consciousness. Every breath, every movement made him feel like knives were grinding inside of him. The pain was incredible but it also kept him focused. His family may be in trouble and his mate in danger. He had to protect them. Growling, he rose to his feet and staggered forward.
Megan saw Marie.
"Did you see her? She came this way. Oh, Rogue! What happened to your face? Did she get you?"
Marie looked up. She was seated on one of the benches in front of one of the hall windows.
"Who? What did you say?"
"There's a woman running around here that looks like Logan. She didn't fool me. Well, okay, maybe for a second…"
"A woman?" Mystique? Oh no! "Megan, look at me. This is important. Are you sure it wasn't Logan?"
"It's a woman, I'm sure. I don't even think she's wearing any clothes. I know that sounds strange but…"
"No it doesn't." Marie joyfully hugged the child to her. "Megan, listen carefully. Ah need you to get the other kids rounded up. Get them to the gym and lock the door. Ah need to find Scott and tell him Mystique's here." She paused. "If only Ah can get Bobby or Samuel in here."
"I can get them!"
"No. Get the other kids to safety first. This lady can look like anybody and she might try to hurt them. Ah'll get Scott and McCoy."
Sauntering down the halls, Mystique heard music and followed it. Entering the teacher's break room, she found Ororo with her back to the door going through some CDs as she listened to one on the player. When she glanced over her shoulder, Mystique did her best to produce a charming smile on Logan's face.
"Hey there, mister. I'm trying to decide on some music for the party. Can you believe those rugrats are already gathering in the library for the shindig?" She turned back around and shook her head. "I swear classes will be a waste of time for the rest of the day."
Mystique could not believe her luck. She had missed making a bloody mess of the girlfriend but here was a willing victim, complete with music to cover the noise. She knew she had plenty of time for the brat would probably cry in the hall for a while and the girlfriend would go off for a pout. She'd just use fists and feet for this, much more satisfying in the long run.
The first blow took Storm by surprise for she never saw it. She was knocked to the floor in a stunned daze. Mystique took great pleasure in making sure Ororo saw all the rest of them coming, up close and personal. By the time she was done with the woman, Mystique felt confident that she could leave and crash the kid's party without any interference. One last look at the battered heap on the floor assured her Storm wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.
Scott looked around the hangar. Why did he come this way again? He shook his head. Logan had messed him up by saying something that bizarre. The whole situation just didn't feel right. He flexed his hand. At least it didn't feel broken this time. He stopped. Why didn't it? He knew he had just hit Logan on the jaw…or had he? In his mind's eye, he tried to remember exactly what Logan had looked like. Boots, jeans, no shirt…that was it. There had been no shirt and no hair. Logan had not had a single hair on his chest. Come to think of it, there hadn't been any sweats on the floor and Logan had changed into those boots and jeans awfully fast. In a flash he knew. Mystique was here. She had impersonated him once. She must be at it again. That meant trouble with a capital T.
He raced back to the main part of the mansion as fast as he could and ran smack into Rogue. He saw her face and grabbed her, guessing what had happened.
"It's not Logan! He didn't do it!"
"Ah know. It's Mystique. Megan told me. Ah sent her to get the other kids and hide in the gym."
"They're in the library. Come on!"
Piotr spotted Logan walking toward the library and gave chase. He decided to risk it and pull a fast one again, enjoying the prank of getting Logan to unknowingly speak Russian.
"You said you would come and get me after your run. Aren't you going to make the pizzas now? You told me I could learn…"
"Speak English, moron. You're in America, now. Deal with it." Mystique made it through the door of the library, hoping the giant would not follow. He did.
"Wait a minute," he said in English, "how did you…"
"Fuck off." She growled, hoping the legendary Wolverine temper would put him in his place.
The children in the room shuffled nervously. Spats between adults were never laced with words like that. In fact, Logan looked really angry. They began to edge away from him.
Damn, she was losing her victims. The giant wouldn't leave her alone and she had no idea if Sabertooth had finished his part in this. She decided to buy some time.
"Okay, munchkins, let's play some party games."
Munchkins? The kids were definitely suspicious now. Something was wrong. Sensing the kids were feeling just as confused as he was, Piotr decided to do something about it.
"Children, get behind me."
Most of them started to comply, having met him through his sister and knowing Logan was acting very weird.
"No!" Mystique was losing her cool. "Come here, you little brats!"
In Russian, Piotr said calmly, "If you really are Logan, and I doubt it, you would know what I am saying. I am giving you a last chance to prove yourself."
"Speak English!" Blades oozed out of her hands.
Piotr's eyebrows shot up. That was his answer. Logan had said he did not want the younger children to know about the claws yet. This could not be the same man.
Just then, a streak of gray fur raced in and launched itself straight for the stranger. Dutch latched on to Mystique's left ankle, drawing blood with his ferocity. Just as fast as she managed to kick the dog off, she was hit in the face with two small feet traveling at a high rate of speed. Megan knocked the false Logan to the floor then landed, rolling and coming to a stop at one of the tables. Snatching a piece of petrified wood left there as a curio, she hurled it through a window. Mystique heard the alarmed cries of the older students outside and knew it was time to leave. She wanted one more victim first, though.
"Brat!" she spat out as she advanced on Megan.
"You're not Logan. You're not even a man," Megan yelled and stuck out her chin as if daring the woman to attack.
A shredding noise occurred and Mystique found a shiny behemoth had stepped between her and her prey. Lashing out, her claws broke off when they hit his metal skin. She wrung her hands at the pain and changed into her normal form. Ducking the outstretched arms that threatened to capture her, she made a leap for the window that was already broken and found her way blocked.
Scott let go with a punch that would have staggered a much more powerful opponent. The problem was Mystique was no ordinary fighter and she ducked and made a grab for the visor, intent on making a distraction for a getaway. Scott saw the movement and closed his eyes, never stopping his attack. Mystique may have gotten the visor, but she found herself wrestling with an extremely angry man, nonetheless. Surprised, she fought like a wildcat and just managed to throw him off.
As Scott tackled Mystique, Marie ushered the kids out into the hall as fast as she could. She had to make sure they were safe. Megan, where was Megan? She ran back into the library.
Dutch jumped into the fray again and grabbed the satchel as Mystique went for her gun. She kicked at the dog, which dodged and circled her, growling ominously. Megan made a lunge to catch him as the panicked Brotherhood member brought the weapon out. Marie jumped and dived, pulling Megan down and protecting the child with her own body. Shots rang out but were deflected by a metal hand, which closed over the gun and crushed it. Scott grabbed her leg and flipped Mystique, unfortunately for him, toward the window. She seized the opportunity and took a header through the glass as Bobby, Remy, St. John, Jubilee, Kitty, and Samuel rushed through the library doors.
"We'll get her!" cried out Bobby.
"No!" yelled Scott. He found his visor and put it on. "She's gone. I want to make sure she was acting alone. Iceman, you and Pyro search the mansion for more of the Brotherhood. Jubilee and Cannonball, you take the children to the kitchen. Be ready to evacuate if necessary. Shadowcat, you and Gambit search for Beast and Storm. Check the Lair and break room first."
He looked up at Piotr. "Big guy, you and Rogue are coming with me to search for Wolverine."
"I can find him. I can track him." Megan had tears in her eyes. "I want to help."
Scott leaned down and kissed her on the head. "You help Jubilee and Cannonball keep the other kids in line. You've done a great job, Megan." Scott did not want Megan to be the one to find Logan; she already had enough bad memories of the day. He turned to Rogue. "She's right. We'll need a tracker. Bring Dutch."
Marie and Scott followed Dutch as he started down the trail Logan had used for a run that morning. Per Scott's suggestion, Piotr circled around to an area of the woods that Logan might have come out of. His height gave him a good advantage over the undergrowth and he soon spotted movement. It was Logan, running in a crouch toward the mansion, claws extended.
"The Brotherhood is here. Mystique may attack the mansion. Get the kids to safety." He was gasping for air, every time he tried to breathe it hurt.
Piotr whistled sharply three times, having been told the dog answered to it. Logan was a horrible sight to see. His clothing was in shreds and there was blood everywhere, some even streaming out of his nose and mouth. Even so, he decided to really make sure it was Logan and not some trick.
"The children are fine. We cornered an intruder, the same woman who was at my apartment in Russia. What happened to you? Where have you been?" He spoke in Russian.
Logan relaxed slightly, a bad thing since he almost passed out. "At least she didn't hurt anyone." He pulled in the blades.
Piotr also relaxed. The reply had been in perfect Russian. He heard Scott, Rogue and Dutch crashing through the underbrush and switched to English so they would understand what was going on.
"He's over here!" Rasputin yelled.
"Are you sure she's gone?" Logan watched the big man confirm this. "Then, if everything's okay, there's something I need to do." He couldn't stand the pain anymore and had a growing suspicion of what was wrong. "How squeamish are you?"
They made it to the edge of the woods just as Dutch, Scott and Rogue arrived.
"What happened?" Logan growled. He had caught sight of all the blood on Marie's left cheek. He reached out but she jerked back.
"It hurts. Don't touch it."
Something was wrong. She was lying to him and he could smell it as plainly as he could smell her fear. He breathed in deeply to start yelling and doubled over in pain.
"What can we do?" Scott wished fervently for Jean at times like this but was willing to do his best.
Logan sank to his knees and a 'snickt' sound was heard. Rogue jumped.
"Get a bucket of water," Logan growled. "I need something flushed out of me."
Piotr did not ever want to see something like that again. Logan had gutted himself, grabbed the bucket and poured water in the open wound. Glass had washed out of him. He had watched Scott's lips compress and his hands tremble as he caught Logan when he passed out, easing the older man to the ground. Rogue had started to cry and was carefully cradling the Wolverine's head as he lay still. Slowly, the wound closed. Piotr felt he would throw up. How could someone endure so much pain? Someone who was extremely sensitive to it? Logan must have run with the glass in him for a few hundred meters, and the first words he thought to say were for the others. He looked down at Scott.
"How did the glass get inside him?"
Scott fished in his pocket and held up a piece of orange metal. "We found this. Mystique must have used a grenade rifle on him. She blew a hole in him and then busted what looks like a vodka bottle in the wound, knowing he would heal around the glass."
"How could he have made it this far? What could have kept him going?"
"Weakness," was the whispered answer.
All three looked down. Logan's eyes were open.
"Weakness," he repeated.
Big doe-eyes and a Southern drawl, Scott thought to himself.
Piotr saw a flash of blue moving toward them in the distance. McCoy must have heard about what had happened and had come to offer assistance. They were helping Logan to his feet when Hank ran up. McCoy's forward momentum gave him tremendous power and his fist hit Logan's jaw so hard that Logan flew a couple of feet in the air and landed like a rag doll in the water, blood and glass that had washed out of him. McCoy made ready to pounce on the now unconscious man when a huge metal hand grabbed his throat.
"What are you doing?" The booming metal voice drilled into Hank's brain.
Startled back to his senses, McCoy stammered, "He beat Ororo! I found her in the break room and carried her to the lab. She came to and started screaming about Logan hitting her. I had to give her a sedative." His voice broke. "He just about murdered her!"
"It was Mystique, Hank." Scott tried to break the two apart and eyed Piotr until he let go of Beast. "Logan was out cold in the woods at the time. She took him out and impersonated him. Look what she did to Rogue."
"Mystique? But how? Why?" Now McCoy was even more confused.
"So, it is easier for you to think a good person did bad things than to think a bad person did bad things." Piotr snorted in disgust. "I have known Logan only a few days. When I met him, he had just killed four men. These were four men who told me they would hurt and rape my sister if I did not do as they told me to. I understand that Logan can be… a danger. I welcome it. It kept my sister and me safe. It is unbelievable to me that you would think a man who is capable of love, of making pizzas for a little girl, of helping a couple to have a 'vacation' would do something so…unbelievable." They shrank before him. "Didn't any of you guess?" He snorted again.
Piotr knelt in the grass, crushing the glass shards that had been imbedded in Logan as he gingerly scooped the fallen man up in his arms. When he stood, they could see the contempt in his cold metal eyes.
"Where should I put this 'thing' you do not trust anymore?"
Logan sat up in bed in a cold sweat. Had it been a nightmare? He felt his side. Nothing. That was a problem with healing, you never could tell what had happened to you and what hadn't. He padded over to the closet. His sweats were missing. Quickly putting on some jeans, he silently strode down the hall to Marie's room. He had to know.
Entering quietly, he stood over her as she lay sleeping. She looked so beautiful. Then she rolled over. He sucked in a surprised breath. Three knife marks marred the other side of her face. It felt like someone had slapped him, hard. Her face had blood on it, he remembered that, but he had not known what the actual shape of the wound had been. He remembered the smell of Mystique and his eyes narrowed as he figured out what must have happened. He would kill her for this.
His eyes traveled back over Marie's face and his heart clenched in his chest. He did not even think to blame her, she couldn't have seen it coming and probably thought Mystique was him. That's why she flinched. Well, at least he could make sure she would not flinch in front of a mirror in the morning. Bracing himself, he touched her cheek lightly. Since she was asleep it would take a few seconds for her skin to react. Wanting her to have pleasant dreams, he concentrated on thoughts of love for her, knowing she would absorb them when she absorbed some of his healing factor. He felt the pull and held on for about two seconds before breaking off the contact. Even a small touch like that took a lot out of him and he sank to his knees. He watched as the cuts healed like magic and nodded, satisfied that he could at least fix that. He stood and kissed her now healed cheek and wandered off to see what other damage Mystique had done.
He inspected the mansion carefully. Everyone was asleep, well, almost everyone. He picked up some noises ahead in the break room. It almost sounded like crying. A faint whiff hit his nose and his eyes opened wide. Ororo and blood? Was she hurt? He went forward to check it out. He paused before opening the door, confirming that she was indeed crying.
Ororo was in despair. She woke up in the lab and remembered everything. Slipping past the sleeping form of Hank, she made her way to the break room. How could Logan hit her like that? She felt the swollen flesh on her face and shivered. How could this have happened? She looked around the room trying to think of all the happy times she had spent here laughing and cutting up with the rest of her friends. Now she could barely contain her fear. Tears flooded her eyes. She had to face it, she reasoned, the sooner the better. A great swell of anger tore through her as she moved to the spot where he had beaten her. He had been like a dog that had gone rabid. She trusted him. She knew he was deadly, they all did. They thought they could tame him, make him more human. A noise came from the door area and she turned around. It was Logan.
"Ororo? I wondered…"
"You! Get out! Go! You did this! I hate you! I hate you!"
She screamed as she hit the breaking point. She threw anything and everything at him that she could lay her hands on. Her rage at being a helpless victim gave her towering strength and she drove him from the room with her ferocity. Slowly she sank to the floor as her body racked with sobs and she cried for what seemed like an eternity. Finally there was nothing left. She was empty, void of everything except the pain.
Drying her eyes she made her way back to the lab. She ran her fingers through Hank's soft fur. She couldn't even feel anything for him at the moment, for nothing mattered anymore. She just wanted to lay down and sleep. Forever.
The road raced beneath his feet as the black motorcycle went onward. Logan didn't notice. Over and over his failure hit him. He had let Mystique get the jump on him and now he was going to pay the price. He had wanted to stay, to face the music; he never ran from anything. That was before he saw the look of absolute hatred and fear on Ororo's battered face. She had told him to get out and he had obeyed, suddenly realizing that maybe he couldn't make it right.
Hours later, as if on its own, the motorcycle stopped in front of a small, rough cabin in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. He hadn't been here in a while, and had first discovered it soon after he had realized he was a human, not an animal. It had become a private place where he could give up the attitude he showed the world and curl up and let himself grieve for what he had lost. Maybe he could rest here for a day or so.
As he walked in the smell hit him and he dropped the keys in his hand. He had forgotten that it was his private place no longer. He had shared his secret with Ororo and Hank and they had made love here, had intimately explored their feelings for each other in a physical act. The brutally beaten face of Ororo swam before him. She did not deserve what had happened to her. It had been his fault. Another face loomed before his eyes, a beautiful one marked by three parallel cuts. He had expressed his love for her and now she drew back from his touch. She could no longer trust him.
Logan dropped to his knees as the guilt overtook him. He did not blame Hank for punching him. He did not blame them for hating him. He knew more than they did just how much others could fuck your world up. He had tried to protect them. How could he have let them down like that? Logan shook as he let the weight of everything that happened fall heavily on his shoulders and break his heart. They would never be able to forgive him just as he would never be able to forgive himself. He had lost the only family he had ever known. Now he was alone, again.
"I can't understand why he left." Scott looked over at Rogue. She had tears streaming down her now perfect face. "He's not the type to run away, not from something like this."
"He awoke with the image of me hitting him, I'm sure of it." McCoy was beside himself. "How could I have even thought he would do such a thing?"
"Hank, Ah believed he cut my face open. What does that say about me?" Marie's voice broke. "And look what he did, knowing Ah didn't want him touching me." Her hand involuntarily touched her cheek.
She remembered the feelings that had flowed into her from what she had thought were dreams: an outpouring of love and grief intermingled with a deep sense of sorrow. He had touched her while she was asleep, wanting her to be able to face a mirror in the morning. Why couldn't he understand she needed him? Because you believed he could do something like that, she firmly told herself, and he didn't want to see the rejection again.
It was Saturday morning and the three of them sat in the briefing room. A pall had settled over the mansion. The children seemed to be handling it well, having seen Mystique change in front of them, but it was still a shock to have their safe haven compromised. The older students, who had not seen any of it, were confused and it was everything Scott could do to keep them from running off to find their missing teacher.
To their surprise, Ororo walked slowly in, each step a painful reminder of the bruises she had. Hank immediately guided her to one of the chairs and helped her sit.
"No offense, sweetheart, but should you be up?"
"I need to be up, Hank. I need to move around. If Jean were here, she'd say the same." Her reply was toneless and unemotional.
There was an awkward silence.
"We were just discussing what has happened," offered Scott.
"Yes," confirmed McCoy. "We have depended too heavily on one man protecting us all the time. It's about time we took responsibility for our own safety instead of leaning so heavily on Logan. He cannot…"
"Logan!" They had never seen Storm's eyes flash so angrily. "What the hell do we need with him? How can you even mention his name!"
Scott's head whipped up and he turned on Hank. "Didn't you tell her?"
"I…no. She just woke up."
"Tell me what?" Ororo's voice was still bitter.
"It was Mystique," Marie said softly.
The blood drained from Storm's discolored face. "No."
Scott nodded. "I'm afraid so. She took Logan out and impersonated him, hurting anyone she could before he could recover. She hurt Megan, slashed Rogue's face, and beat you. Megan figured out it wasn't Logan and warned Rogue at about the same time I figured it out. We cornered her in the library before she hurt the kids but she ended up getting away." Scott grimaced at this admission. "We found Logan and managed to get him taken care of but Hank decked him before any of us could tell him what Mystique had done. I'm betting he woke up and figured out what happened after seeing Rogue's face. I can believe he would have gone after Mystique, but not without telling me. As it is, we don't have a clue where he is or why he left this way."
Ororo whispered something.
"Ah'm sorry, Ororo. Ah didn't hear that."
"I said he left because I told him to. Oh my God, I told him to." She looked pleadingly at Hank. "I didn't know! I threw things at him last night in the break room and told him to get out. My God, what have I done?"
The Blackbird landed in a clearing. All day they had searched fruitlessly. The urgency to find Logan and make amends drove them on for they would not wait for Jean or Charles to come back and clean up their mess for them. A chance remark from Ororo made Hank remember the hide-a-way that Logan had led them to for their vacation. This was to be their last stop before returning to the mansion to regroup.
A full moon guided them toward the cabin. They approached with some trepidation, not exactly knowing what they would find. No lights shone through the curtains and no smoke curled up from the chimney.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, Ororo strode forward and knocked on the door.
"Logan?"
She opened it and flipped the switch. The others heard her sharp intake of breath and they crowded in behind her. The cabin itself was unharmed, but the floor, walls, and furniture were covered with a massive amount of dark stains. Beast touched one and sniffed his finger.
"It's blood," he confirmed.
The cabin was too small to hide anyone so they took their frantic search outside. Scott found him not too far away, standing on the edge of a cliff that overlooked a small inlet filled with icy water. If Logan heard him approach, he gave no outward sign.
"We've been looking all over for you," Scott began. He waited a quite a few seconds for a response.
"I don't see why," came the emotionless answer.
Scott looked back and gave a piercing whistle. He turned back to Logan.
"What do you mean you don't see why?" He received no response. "Logan? Don't you think we need you? You're part of the team, part of the family." No response again. "Logan?"
How on earth was he going to reach his friend this time? Scott decided to take a page from Logan's book of tactics.
"Are you going to jump or not? The suspense is killing me."
Logan slowly turned to face him and Scott could see from his torn clothing exactly where the blood had come from.
"No." The reply was toneless, but at least he answered.
"What happened back at the cabin?"
There was silence for a while.
"I lost it." Again there was no emotion. It was as if Logan had crawled so far into himself, nothing could reach him.
Footfalls came running up from behind and Logan had just enough time to turn the rest of the way around before a small figure enveloped him in a hug. Slowly, as if waking from a dream, he reached up and gently returned the hug, burying his head in Marie's soft hair as he closed his eyes. Scott found himself breathing again. Logan was at least responding to something now. Maybe things could be healed after all. He turned to look at Ororo as she tentatively walked up to the silent couple.
"Logan, I…" She choked on the words she had so carefully rehearsed.
Logan opened his eyes and saw her. He kissed Marie on the top of her head and she let him go. He took a few steps and ended up in front of Ororo. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she opened her arms. Ever so cautiously he took the last step and put his arms around her.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know how it feels." He felt her tremble and she squeezed him even tighter.
McCoy gripped his shoulder. "We are all sorry, Logan. It will take time for all of us to heal from this."
Logan nodded mutely.
Magneto looked at the cool, efficient-looking brunette that sat across from him and smiled charmingly.
"I hear you have been busy, my dear. It's time to pay the piper. Listen to me very carefully, now, for your life depends on it."
She opened her mouth and he held up a warning finger. Her mouth closed and he continued.
"At the moment, I am inclined to agree with any sort of justice that our clawed friend would give you, but I need you because I need to know two things before I can proceed with my plan. You will find out if he has left them and you will find out if this has hurt their team in any way. You are not to go near that place, which means you had better use that clever little head of yours to get me my information without raising any alarms. Do you comprehend?"
She nodded.
"Understand this, my little minx, if he has left them, you are as good as dead. I need him and I need them in order for this to work. Are we clear on your priorities now?"
She nodded again and swallowed.
"Good."
The ride home had been quiet. Back at the mansion, Logan kissed an exhausted Marie and tucked her in her own bed, telling her he didn't feel like sleeping. She relented only after he promised they would talk in the morning. After showering and changing into some other jeans and a clean T-shirt, he made his way to the library and sat in one of the chairs looking out over the moonlit lawn. He didn't move when Dutch padded in and sat at his feet. Dutch was curled into a snoozing ball of fur by the time another figure entered the library. Logan turned his head to face his visitor.
"I had a nightmare," said Megan as she boldly approached his chair.
"About me." It wasn't a question.
She nodded. "She fooled me for a moment but I smelled the difference later. Don't worry, Dutch and I got her. She won't be back."
"I'm sorry."
She sighed. "Some birthday party, huh?" Megan confidently crawled into his lap and looked him straight in the eye. "You know, you owe me some pizzas." She leaned forward and put her arms around his neck.
He hugged her to him, not letting go even after she fell into a blissful sleep.
"You're right. I owe you," he finally said.
That next Saturday, St. John watched the remote control vehicles zoom around the mall atrium. Kitty had not remembered their date and he didn't remind her, preferring instead to wallow in self-pity. He heard someone clear their throat behind him and he turned around. A young woman, about his age, was staring at him with a charming smile on her beautiful face.
"You look like you could use a friend." Her voice was sweet and smooth. "Mind if I join you?"
"Sure, whatever." He moved to stand beside her, surreptitiously classifying her as a knockout from tip to toe. She even smelled nice, kind of like spearmint. "My name's St. John," he said as the dark Kitty-cloud began to lift from his thoughts.
"Nice to meet you, St. John." She held out a dainty hand. "My name's Raven."
(end)
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Story Notes:
It would be helpful if you have read "The Professional" and "Winter Tails," because some details of those two stories are discussed, but it’s not essential. Okay. I’m warning you now that this story has some dark moments. It also doesn’t have a happy ending; hopeful, maybe, but not happy. This was very kindly beta’d by an extremely sweet person. Completed 2:20:03.