Guest House Logan
It had been drilled into her, ‘report inappropriate behaviour to someone in authority’ but what did you do if it was the authority doing it? She’d been haggling with this question for days now, it had been an accident her finding out about what was going on here. A stupid walk in when she’d been distracted and not noticing who or what was happening around her, in her own head as usual bemoaning her status as ‘leper’ in the freak show that went for ‘Xavier’s School for the Gifted’.
Sounds that had meant nothing to her until she’d walked around the corner to see Doctor Summers with her skirt hitched up around her waist and Bobby nailing her to the wall. As if that wasn’t sick enough they had a willing watcher, Charles Xavier himself! His body taut as if he were using Bobby to fuck Jean, riding the emotions and feelings the young man was currently thrusting into Jean, shocked Marie backed off back down the corridor. Her mind unwilling to admit what she’d just seen with her own eyes, the sounds of sex still following her as Bobby’s voice mingled with that of the professor and Jean.
So here she was bag in hand and about to leave again, she’d promised Logan that she’d stay still, keep safe but this place wasn’t safe and never had been. If what she’d seen had been real then who knew what else was going on behind the scenes, she’d seen a few pregnancies on the students and they’d been put down to ‘encounters on the road’. Yet the nagging doubt in the back of her head was telling her something different, the little piece of Logan she had left was telling her to get out while she was still aware of her own decisions. Yet what she didn’t know as a solitary figure watched her leave the grounds she hadn’t been the only one to have doubts about the intentions of Charles Xavier.
The bed was clean (she should know she’d washed the damn sheets). Her food was plentiful (if you liked corned beef hash-which she didn’t) and the people if not friendly at least didn’t shy away from her. She’d only intended doing a week here, but time had slipped by and as yet no-one had come looking for her. Summer was in full sway and she was content for the moment if not happy, her work mainly consisted of doing laundry and cleaning the small rooms after the tourists had finished with them. It wasn’t a motel, oh no this was a guesthouse; her erstwhile employer had told her in no uncertain terms that this was a place of morals. No hanky-panky with unmarried people here thank you very much, no double room without a marriage certificate or wedding band marks. Since leaving Xavier’s she’d felt a little calmer but her head always told her to keep her bag packed and ready just in case.
Right now she was outside in the yard trying to get the last pieces of the linen out while the sun was still shining, a storm had been forecast that afternoon. And right as not it was usually true, so when she heard the bike in the street behind her she didn’t think anything about it; that was until she heard the footsteps behind her. Someone was walking up the path to the front door and having finished pegging out the linens Marie turned to see who the new guest was. The word was out of her mouth before she even dropped the now empty linen basket, “LOGAN?!” The figure had halted on the path turned toward her and was holding his fists clenched by his sides for a second before his nose got in on the action. As she flung herself into his arms she made sure to keep her skin away from his bare face, hugging him tightly she wondered why he hadn’t said anything yet. Dropping him out of her embrace she let herself look at him and saw the confusion written plainly across his face.
“I’m sorry do you ‘know’ me?” If you’d have told her that a pink tattooed water buffalo had just camped on her lawn she’d have believed it more than the words that had just come out of Logan’s mouth. She stepped back and looked hard at the man who’d saved her life more than once, uncomfortable with her so close to him. Her voice finally found she went to her basket, “I’m sorry I thought you were someone else.” Logan’s eyes watched her and his nostrils flared as she moved away from him, memories she still held told her he was collecting her scent. Whatever happened later she should be ready for it, when Logan wanted answers he wasn’t slow in getting them.
“Shit!” Logan stood in the soft light of the lamp as it flicked on, the broken shards of glass sticking out of his bare foot, Marie sat dressed on her bed, legs crossed, a diary open on her lap. Logan hobbled to the bed edge and pulled the pieces out of his abused sole, the pain obvious on his face as she moved herself around to give him room. When he’d healed the wounds he’d turned to talk to her but Marie held up a hand and spoke first, “My name is Marie, my real name anyway, you knew me as Rogue as well.”
Logan sat on the bed looking at the young woman across from him, he knew her scent, as well as he’d known his own. Hence the reason his blades hadn’t fired when she’d hugged him so tightly, he ‘knew’ her but his memory didn’t. So he’d decided to come looking and find some answers of his own, he’d found out she’d been here just over three months. A good worker, quiet, calm, clean and had good morals, never went anywhere without cotton gloves and a decent covering over her young curves. The old maid who ran the guesthouse put this down to her southern upbringing but Logan had other ideas, maybe she was a mutant and had to keep covered. She’d kept her skin away from his own when she hugged him and if she was afraid of her skin then it might prove useful to find out how she knew him and from where.
“You rescued me from a place called Laughlin in Canada, well I say rescued; I snuck into the back of your trailer and almost froze to death. You found me and were going to take me with you, wherever you were going.” The words seemed to make sense to him, he’d never leave a woman on the side of the road, not one as ripe as this and he adjusted himself unthinkingly. She didn’t notice and carried on with her words, “You took me to ‘Xavier’s school for the Gifted’, do you remember that?” Logan wracked his memory, he had the image of a large building with gardens to match, a man in wheelchair and a redhead with killer legs.
Marie could see him struggling to remember, flashes of the old Logan went through his eyes and she knew he was trying to piece together how she knew him and how familiar she was to his senses. The diary in her hands might help him, her gloves were off up here, she didn’t need to cover her hands constantly. So when she handed the book over she didn’t expect Logan to touch her hand to get it from her.
Pain.
Burning, scalding nerves screaming out as the touch invaded his skin, her fingers moving swiftly away from his own and the book dropping limp to the floor as the world turned inside out for him. Thrashing on her bed as he rode out the last few painful moments of her touch on his skin, the memory of doing this before flaring like a phoenix through his consciousness.
Stood in the cold darkness, the rank stink of some animal covering him, her limp and lifeless before him and the swell of concern that filled his breast. That all his fight had been for nothing, he’d been too late, he’d lost her, the one good thing in his life he’d lost – again. Using his blades he cut through the restraints and held her to him, her body was already cooling up here and he made up his mind. She could live if he touched her, but he’d been told she could kill him if he touched her again. Yet all he could think about was her lop-sided smile and the beautiful eyes that had watched him fight back in Laughlin without fear of him. He wanted to see that again just once before he died, tearing off the glove he touched her skin, hoped, waited for it take him under…but it didn’t. Holding her to him he felt the first tears fill the corners of his eyes, kissing the top of her forehead, the last touch he’d ever give her. His Marie, all his promises to her worthless now, he’d lost her, holding her soft cold cheek to his own he’d almost sworn in joy when her mutation had finally taken him. The pain was excruciating; her body was taking everything it could give her and more, she hungered for life and he gave it to her.
Just as now her touch was burning through the blocks that had been put in his mind, making him forget. His last sight was of Marie knelt by her own bed hands covered crying as she apologised to him, telling him how sorry she was for hurting him again. Just before sleep took him under to heal the damage she’d done to him, he smiled at her and against all hope she returned it.
Marie watched him sleep, he twitched and turned a few times, but he didn’t seem to be having nightmares, after a few hours her own eyes were getting heavy and she fell asleep in her small chair. Her mind on the look on his face just before he’d fallen asleep, the smile that had touched the corners of his eyes. Her Logan, the one she knew was back, now all she had to do was find out how he’d gotten lost in the first place.
When she woke he’d gone, his shirts were still here as were his jeans so…her eyes went to the small washroom up here in the attic where she was. The water was running and it was reminding her that she had a very full bladder, he wouldn’t mind if she nipped in would he? Taking a chance Marie got up and went across the small landing into the washroom, her watch read 7.30am, she wouldn’t be expected down until 8am to serve at breakfast.
The room was filled with steam and instantly she felt grubby, she hadn’t had her shower yet and downstairs the water running would be mistaken for her getting ready. Making sure her back was turned she reached out behind her to the shower curtain, what met her fingers was soapy flesh. She squeaked and she heard Logan turn around, “You’re up then? Want some hot water, I’m almost done.”
Marie didn’t turn around she just spoke to the wall, “I can’t can I? If I get in there with you naked I’ll kill you!”
Logan thought for a moment then she heard the water shut off and his bulk shifted in the small room around her, until his face was in front of hers a wicked smile on his lips. “True but it’d be a good way to die.” Shocked she saw him wink and leave her bathroom naked, heard his feet on the stairs and a small gasp as someone else saw his naked rear disappear into his own room. The hurried footsteps came into her small bathroom and her employer saw Marie upset and flustered, she tried to counter any attack by speaking first. “I think he wasn’t sure which bathroom he had to use, I told him to leave and kept my back turned. He didn’t mean any harm, he was just so tired last night he said he’d forgotten.” The landlady looked at the flustered Marie and nodded.
“Well I suppose I’ll have to label the rooms a little more clearly, are you sure you’re alright my dear?” Marie nodded and she assured her employer that nothing untoward had happened to her and that her new guest wasn’t in the habit of ravishing young ladies. She knew the last part was an out and out lie but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Assured her staff weren’t being molested she let Marie finally get her own shower and finally use the toilet, much to her bladders relief.
When she got to breakfast Logan was already apologising to the landlady and to make up for any inconvenience he was willing to do some repairs to the front and back veranda’s for nothing if she got him the tools and wood. Pleased at the effort to make amends she smiled at Logan in a new way, he’d gone from molester to craftsman in one heartbeat. Marie had to wonder just what her latest touch had done to him and what would come of it.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Just starting a little fic here, it popped in after reading something on WRBETA list...something about Jean and the old Prof. This is my take on the situation and what our two favourites intend to do about it.
Chapter End Notes:
As always comments welcome and ideas of where you'd like this to go as well...feel free!