Kitty phased through the door into her room, a hand on her heart. The shower was running. She banged a fist on the closed bathroom door and yelled at her roommate. “Jubilee! Jubes, come out of there!”
Jubilee wiped the shampoo out of her eyes and listened. “What?” she yelled back.
“Just hurry up!”
Jubilee hastily grabbed a towel and, wrapping herself up, yanked the door open in annoyance. “What's the emergency?”
Kitty was practically floating out of her shoes. “The Wolverine is back!”
Jubilee's eyes widened. “Really?”
The Wolverine was the stuff of legend around there. He was said to be mean-tempered and more than likely to hack you to pieces with his claws rather than engage in conversation, a growling feral beast-man best avoided if you knew what was good for you.
“I haven't seen him yet, “ Kitty jabbered on with an unconscious shiver. “But I heard him. He was talking to the Professor in his office.” Kitty had then wisely run off, hearing them approaching the doorway.
“What's he sound like? He scary?”
Kitty frowned unevenly. “Well…no. Not really. He even laughed.”
They both turned this unsettling bit of information over for a moment. “That doesn't sound right,” Jubilee offered at last.
Kitty agreed. “No, it doesn't. But I'd step lightly around here for a while all the same.”
Jubilee dropped her towel without a shred of embarrassment and Kitty, as always somewhat taken aback by her roommate's immodesty, moved to the window while Jubes got dressed.
“Ohmygod! Look! That's gotta be him.”
Both girls stood at the window and looked out. There was a man off in the distance by the garages. They couldn't really see him very well but what he was doing caused them both to gasp in horror.
Jubilee stepped back from the window, her eyes wide. “He's gonna eat that poor dog.”
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Logan scrubbed a hand over his face and yawned. “Okay, Chuck. Gimme a day to settle in and we'll talk. I'm beat.” He was also starving.
Charles moved his wheelchair and accompanied Logan to the door, telling him how very pleased he was that Logan had returned. “I'm afraid your reputation has taken on some rather mythological proportions among the students. Do try and not frighten them unnecessarily.”
Logan laughed under his breath and cocked an eyebrow at the Professor. “Me? Scare people? Wouldn't dream of it.”
He strode off through the mansion for the front entryway, to stow the bike and retrieve the rest of his gear. At the garages, he gave Xavier's collection of vehicles the once-over. No shortage of them, that was for sure. He eyed the 4x4 Dodge Ram at the end of the row and made a mental note to hide the keys. It was the beefiest of the vehicles available and he didn't want to get stuck with a piece of shit compact should the need arise to make a quick trip with something other than Scott's bike.
Stepping back out into the sunshine, he had to drop his pack as he was nearly bowled over by a mound of grinning fur. A black Lab, eagerly smiling a dopey dog-smile and wagging its tail furiously, was attempting to climb up his chest.
“Whoa, take it easy, pooch.” Ruffling its ears, Logan gave it a good pat and the dog only smiled wider. And then it hit him. Grabbing the dog more firmly, he lowered his face into the animal's coat and inhaled deeply.
Couldn't be. No fucking way. The dog smelled like the inside of Marie's truck.
“As I live and breathe! Logan, that you?” Pete, the elderly groundskeeper, came shuffling up with a sack of potting soil hefted onto a shoulder. “Come 'ere, you goofy dog. Leave the man alone. Fang! Get over here, boy.”
Fang squirmed with delight at all the attention and Logan finally let go of him. The dog jumped in crazy circles and saliva went flying every which way. Logan wiped a hand across his mouth to dislodge a ribbon of slime.
Fang? It had to be the most inappropriate dog name in history. This critter would only grin someone to death, not bite them.
Pete set his load of potting soil on the ground and leaned over to bang his happy pooch on the ribs. “Sorry 'bout that. He's a little too friendly sometimes.”
Logan brushed his palm over his jeans to rid it of doggy slime and went to shake the old man's hand. “Good to see you, Pete. They keeping you busy?”
“Oh, like always. Kids pull some crazy shit on me from time to time but I love this place.” Pete gazed out across the lush grounds, a testament to his hard work and genuine fondness for growing things. “Professor's always been good to me. I'll be here 'til I kick the bucket. No retirement for this old fool.”
Logan's attention went back to the dog. “You had him long?”
“A few years now. He's a good hound, keeps me company. Sheds something fierce but I guess they all do.” With a grunt, Pete again picked up his bag of potting soil and thumped it down into a wheelbarrow. “Well, I got to get. Nice to have you home, Logan. I'll be seein' you.”
Logan stood there, puzzled, watching Pete and Fang head out across the grounds. Couldn't be. Surely one dog smelled much like another and maybe his tired brain had just made a connection that wasn't really there. Besides, what would Pete's dog have been doing in Marie's truck? It didn't make any sense. Then again, she'd said that she lived in New York - and that the truck wasn't really hers. He took another look at the long row of vehicles available in the garage. Christ almighty.
“Pete! Hold up.” Logan grabbed his pack and caught up to him. “Listen - um.” Logan was suddenly unsure just what to ask. “The students - you know 'em pretty well?”
Pete pulled at an ear, cocking his head. “No, not really. Those young'uns are awful busy. Don't have much time for an old man like me.” He grunted out a humorless laugh. “Seems one of 'em run off with my truck, though, so me and the wheelbarrow have been getting reacquainted as of late. Hope she gets back here quick. My back's been givin' me some grief.”
Logan stared at him, his mouth open.
Confused, Pete frowned and reached a hand to Logan's shoulder. “Son, you okay?”
His confusion only mounted as Logan's face slowly lit up in a huge grin - and he started to laugh.
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Suddenly no longer tired, in fact highly energized and with a renewed appreciation for just how famished he was, Logan found both Jean and Scott in the dining hall having breakfast. Piling up a mound of food, Logan banged his overly laden plate on their table and sat down, shoveling eggs and bacon and sausage into his mouth at a furious pace.
Scott watched him with undisguised irritation, his arms folded over his chest. “Don't choke.” His tone made it perfectly clear that was just what he wanted Logan to do.
Taking a moment to swallow, Logan gave him a grim smile that held anything but humor, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Bite me, Summers.”
Jean rolled her eyes. These two…what a pair of idiots they turned into in each other's company.
Ignoring Scott, Logan asked Jean about the student that absconded with the groundskeeper's truck. “Think I might've run into her just outside Memphis.”
Jean's brows shot up. “Tennessee? Scott, you think she's heading back home?” Meridian, Mississippi, wasn't terribly far from where Logan said he thought he'd seen her.
Behind his ruby-tinted shades, Scott narrowed his eyes at Logan. “What do you mean, 'ran into her'?” And just how well had Logan gotten to know her, to be asking questions? His blood started to boil. “You touch her? You son of a bitch, you lay a hand on that girl?” Christ, this was all Marie needed. What rotten luck to run into Logan, of all people, at this precarious stage in her life.
Jean jumped to her feet, grabbed Scott by the arm and quickly dragged him out of the dining hall. “Let me deal with this. You two can't talk to each other without getting into a fight and that's not the best way to handle this. Get!” She shoved him none-too-gently toward the stairs.
Scott stood there, smoldering. “You find out just what he's talking about, Jean. I want a full report on this.” He shot another glare at Logan before pounding up the stairs.
As Jean walked back to the table, Logan was becoming more furious by the moment, mostly at himself. How could he be so monumentally stupid as to have made any inquiries with the Boy Wonder hanging around? Maybe the lack of sleep was taking its toll. Then another thought struck him: that so-called boyfriend of hers must be one of the students here as well.
The fork in his hand was beginning to bend under the pressure. Belatedly realizing what he was doing, he heaved it into the remains of his breakfast, suddenly through with eating.
“Jean, can we hit your office for some privacy? We need to talk.”
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Jubilee and Kitty gave way as Jean and who they had to assume was the Wolverine came barreling out of the dining hall. Jubilee had run smack into his chest.
He reached to steady her, hands on her shoulders. “You okay, kid?”
Jubilee blinked up at him stupidly. His voice poured over her like warm molasses. Neither loud nor menacing, it was nevertheless commanding. Her voice, on the other hand, was little more than a croak.
“Yeah, I'm fine.”
He looked at her a little funny, dark eyes dropping over her in assessment before turning to follow Jean down the hall.
Jubilee stared after them. “Holy cow.” Of all the things she'd heard said about Logan, not one of them mentioned the fact that the man was sex on a stick.
She searched his retreating form - and what a magnificent form it was - for signs of violence, blood, bite marks. Dog hair. None were in evidence.
Kitty reached for her arm. “Think Fang is still in one piece?”
Jubilee swallowed, recalling how Logan had been manhandling Pete's dog. But maybe he'd only been hugging the animal. The discordant clash of thoughts clanged loudly in her brain. What she'd come to believe about Logan and what she'd witnessed just didn't add up. Her next thought was: Lucky dog.
“I, uh, dunno, Kit.” She shook her head as if to clear it and glanced into the dining hall. “I'm off my feed. How about a swim then an early lunch later?”
Kitty agreed.
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Bobby was miserable. Dangling his feet in the pool, he watched the sun rippling its way across the surface and tried to figure out how he'd gotten himself in this predicament. Jubilee had spilled her conversation with Marie to him just last night and he'd lain awake until dawn, finally making his way down to the pool to try and sort things out. He felt just horrible.
To Bobby's way of thinking, Marie had never been his girlfriend. Friend, definitely; a very good friend. But girlfriend, no.
Bobby thought it ridiculous that no one much wanted to hang out with her, scared of accidentally brushing up against her skin and getting the life sucked out of them. Bobby had never been one to avoid her, though. In fact, he'd gone out of his way to spend time with her. He'd thought he was being noble. And it wasn't just that - he genuinely enjoyed her company. She was sweet and charming and funny; upbeat, when her life situation should have made her otherwise. He respected the strength of character she projected.
Seems Marie had seen things differently, however. She'd assumed their friendship made them a couple, and even though on occasion it had given Bobby pause, the fact that she seemed to read more into their relationship than was really there, Bobby had never had the heart to tell her otherwise. Besides, everyone knew about him and John. Or so he'd assumed. Marie's innocence about the entire matter came as a great shock to him. It was so goddamned obvious! How could she not catch on?
He'd avoided discussions of intimacy, as he thought it would be sort of cruel given her situation, but it had now became apparent that that was entirely the wrong strategy. Bobby wanted to kick himself. Hurting Marie was never something he wanted to do.
How could he be so stupid? After gaining control of her mutation recently, she'd been more vivacious, more eager, during the moments they shared, seemingly waiting for something, and the reason why only occurred to him after finding the note she'd left.
That note. He wanted to cringe. Unbeknownst to either John or himself, she'd seen them. He could only imagine what a shock it must've been for her, how betrayed she must've felt. She'd accused him of using her, of being a coward by not openly proclaiming his true nature. But what was there to proclaim? Everyone knew.
Heaving another miserable sigh, he wished John were here. John, however, had left for a vacation home the very day Marie disappeared. He wouldn't be back for another two weeks. The lucky bastard, skipping out on the whole mess just when it blew up in Bobby's face.
He glanced up as girlish voices were heard coming down the path. Oh, great. Blabbermouth and Kitty.
He grabbed his sandals, quickly put them back on and beat a hasty retreat.
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Logan paced in Jean's office, thinking over all she'd told him. About Marie, about her mutation; about how she'd so recently attained mastery over it. About that little bastard Bobby, although it looked like Marie was dead wrong in her assessment of the kid. Still, Logan wanted to pound him into pulp. Someone should pay for the hell she'd been put through. Bobby seemed like the logical candidate.
Jean watched him and tried to understand what was the cause of his great level of concern. The only thing he'd told her was that he'd helped Marie out with a flat tire. It didn't seem possible he would get this worked up over a brief encounter with a young woman on the side of the road. Didn't make any sense.
“Logan, just exactly what happened between you two?” Why on earth had Marie poured her heartache out to a stranger over the length of time it took to change a flat? It was completely out of character. Jean couldn't figure this one out.
Logan stopped pacing and looked her dead in the eye. Though it came as quite a shock, his look told her all she needed to know. She felt color rising in her face and dropped her eyes. “Oh.”
“Don't give me that, Jeannie. She's an adult. She's twenty, for God's sake.”
Twenty, however, sounded like twelve, given the differences in their life experience. He did his best not to feel guilty about it. He could hardly be held accountable for not knowing the reasons behind her overly protracted innocence. “Besides, she was more the instigator than I was.” Sort of. Well, fuck. The details of who touched who first and the motivations behind it hardly mattered at this point. What really mattered was how they were going to handle living under the same roof, given Marie's obvious desire to get away from him as fast as possible.
Logan slouched into a chair and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. This complication the moment he'd stepped back into residence here wasn't going to make things easy. God knew, it wouldn't be easy for Marie, either.
Jean continued to observe him. She'd known Logan a long time, knew him very well in fact. They conversed regularly, every few months by phone or hand-delivered written correspondence included with packages sent to and from Charles. They'd grown rather close, although Scott continued to chafe at any sort of camaraderie between them. Scott lost all sense of perspective where Logan was concerned. He'd never forgiven him for the outrageous flirtation he'd perpetrated with Jean beginning the moment he'd landed here, seven long years ago. It was one of the reasons Logan had finally left, doing Xavier's bidding by long distance arrangement instead. Scott never quite seemed to catch on - that it was far more about getting his goat than getting his woman.
Jean felt a smile blossoming across her face as understanding dawned. “She got to you, didn't she?”
Logan didn't move, but his eyes shifted to hers. He held her look for a long moment before his eyes drifted away, thinking it over. He seemed surprised by his own answer. “Yeah. Guess she did.”
Jean shook her head and gathered up some stray papers for her day's work, and thought Why not? On the surface, they were just about as wrong for each other as it was possible to be - an overly naive and innocent young woman just stepping into her life and a jaded man with a nightmarish past and the weight of the world on his shoulders. Who knew? They just might make it work.
Before leaving and telling him to get his ass upstairs to get some much-needed sleep, she thought to ask him something else.
“How about Marie? Think she feels the same way?” She could easily picture Marie swooning over Logan. Many women had and Jean could almost count herself among their ranks. Though their tight friendship was something that would never be acted on in a physical sense, Jean was terribly fond of him.
Logan stood and cracked his knuckles, all the light seeming to go out of his eyes. “Yeah, well, that's the catch, isn't it? 'Cause I don't think so.”
Surprised, Jean said, “Oh? What makes you say that?”
He only looked away and stared out the window.
Jean let go a sigh, realizing there were more complications here than he'd let on. “I don't have any answers for you, Logan. You'll just have to wait till she gets home and take it from there. You've got a few days to think things over. You want to talk again, just let me know.”
Jean felt badly for him but had run out of things to say. She came and gave him a quick smooch on the cheek then took her leave.
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Marie checked the mileage for the three millionth time and vowed to never again try and drive for eighteen hours straight. She could barely keep her eyes open.
Within a hundred miles of home, she finally gave up and pulled over. She was afraid she'd get in a wreck if she continued to push it. It was just after 6:00 PM and the sun was becoming hazy through cloud cover to the west. A few hours' sleep, and she figured she could still be home by midnight.
Too tired to hunt for a motel room, she simply lay down on the bench seat in her truck at a rest stop and passed out.
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Logan slept the rest of the day away. Well after dark, he finally got up, took a shower and wondered how to get his days and nights lined up again. Healing factor aside, irregular hours were known to make him more than a little cranky.
He considered raiding the kitchens, but wasn't quite up to settling in just yet. The prospect of running into some of the student population was also not appealing. Instead, he headed for the garages, saw Scott had refueled the bike in all his robot-like need for order. He had himself a good laugh, then fired it up and headed out to the nearest bar.
It was just past midnight when he pulled up the long curving driveway for the second time that day.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
"Me? Scare people? Wouldn't dream of it."