The next time I wake I am fully healed. I’ve been severely injured enough times in what I remember o’ my life to know the difference instantly. I ease my body into a stretch, feelin’ unused muscles give an’ tendons pop, groanin’ as I force out the kinks. It feels good to be movin’ again, but I can already feel my hunger creepin’ up on me an’ I know I gotta replenish the energy the healin’ coma has used up. An’ sooner rather than later.
I throw back the bed covers an’ ease my legs outta bed, surprised to find myself without a stitch o’ clothin’. Whoever put me to bed musta had a rare eyeful an’ I’m kinda hopin’ it was Marie. Although, to be honest, it wouldn’t kill me to know it was Jean. At least she’d have seen what a real man looks like. Scooter can’t possibly compare.
Gingerly, I get to my feet, swayin’ a bit as the altitude hits me. Grittin’ my teeth, I stagger to the bathroom door, using the bedside table an’ other pieces o’ furniture for support. By the time I reach the bathroom my head is clearin’ an’ I lean on the sink an’ stare at my reflection in the mirror. The face that greets me is unmistakably thinner, noticeably pale, an’ there’s a darkness around the eyes that I haven’t seen in a long time. A good meal should take care o’ that.
I reach up to tug at my hair. It’s grown in the past few days, an’ the crests it naturally grows into are stickin’ up wilder than ever. For the briefest o’ moments I consider choppin’ it back, but then decide to leave it. It won’t be the first time I’ve let my hair grow long an’, to be honest, I kinda like it. I wonder briefly what Marie will think of it.
My muttonchops have grown too, but I’m definitely gonna trim those back. Xavier operates a strict dress code around the school – I manage to break it on a fairly regular basis – but I don’t think he’ll be too forgiving if I appear in front o’ the students lookin’ like a wildman.
First things first though. I step into the shower an’ crank up the heat, lettin’ the hot water wash away the stink o’ death. Someone’s done a first rate job o’ keepin’ me clean while I’ve been out of it, but I can still smell the after-scent o’ my own blood an’ something strangely metallic. Probably the bullets. I’ve got their scent now. Next time, I’ll know their stink from a mile away.
I shampoo my hair vigorously, then rinse, finally givin’ myself a finishin’ sluice before steppin’ outta the shower an’ grabbin’ a towel from the rail. A quick dryin’ later an’ I’m payin’ attention to those shaggy muttonchops, snippin’ ‘em back to their previous length. I’m just finishin’ up when my stomach growls loudly, remindin’ me that I’m runnin’ on empty. Time to beat a hasty retreat in search o’ food. Just before leavin’ the bathroom I glance in the mirror. No point in brushin’ my hair – it only falls the way it wants to anyway – so I shake my head like a dog, splatterin’ the wall tiles with drops o’ water, an’ stalk naked into the bedroom.
I’m just pullin’ on my second boot, after dressin’ in black tee an’ jeans – an’ here I must mention that my favourite brown leather jacket seems to be missin’ from its customary place on the back o’ the chair. Must remember to ask about it later – when I pick up a familiar incomin’ scent an’, seconds later, Marie enters. Her face lights up at the sight o’ me an’ she barrels into my arms, knocking me back with a grunt.
“Logan! You’re up! How ya feeling, sugah?” She pulls back an’ eyes me, suspiciously. “An’ where do you think you’re going?”
Much as I want Marie back in my arms where she belongs, there are priorities to be met. “I’m hungry, Marie. I need food. I was on my way downstairs to raid the kitchen.”
“No need, sugah!” Marie’s eyes sparkle with happiness when she smiles an’ if I wasn’t so hungry right now I’d let her know exactly how that makes me feel. Instead, I let her tug me towards the door. “It’s dinner time, Logan! Ah was just callin’ in on ya to see if ya needed anything before heading down there myself.”
Once the door is open, I can actually smell the aromas o’ the meal in progress for myself. My mouth waters an’ my stomach protests loudly as we head for the stairs. Control yerself, big guy. Don’t wanna drool in front o’ yer girl.
Marie gives me a sideways glance. “Don’t worry, sugah. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”
Oh, the images those words provoke …… Down, boy ……
At the top o’ the stairs my body decides to remind me that I’m runnin’ on empty an’ my head spins alarmingly when faced with the sudden drop. To cover up my discomfort, I take Marie’s arm an’ use it for support as we descend. With one hand on the rail an’ the other tucked securely in the crook o’ her elbow, I feel much safer but, if she ever suspects the truth I will have to kill her.
She keeps tight hold of me as we reach the ground floor hallway. She’s either enjoyin’ the contact or she’s figured out that I’m still not quite myself yet an’ she grins up at me encouragingly as we near the dinin’ room. I can hear the general buzz o’ conversation an’ the staccato rattle o’ plates an’ suddenly the need to eat an’ renew my energy levels is so strong that I nearly pull Marie off her feet as I quicken my pace an’ barge through the door.
I’m so wrapped up in my own needs that I don’t notice we are still arm in arm. Now it’s worth mentionin’ that it was never my intention to hide my relationship with Marie from anyone, but I usually shy away from public displays o’ emotion. From any emotion, to be brutally honest, unless it’s to give someone who deserves it a damn good thrashin’. So, for me an’ Marie to suddenly appear in front o’ the whole student body arm in arm, is akin to me wearin’ a pink tee emblazoned with the words ‘I love kittens’. It just isn’t me.
An’ as our faux pas is noticed, the whole damn dinin’ room goes painfully quiet …….
Honestly, I swear I can hear the trees rustlin’ in Japan.
Marie looks at our entwined arms an’ then up at me, an’ a tiny rueful smile tugs at the corners of her lips. I’m suddenly stricken with an inexplicable case o’ paralysis – I don’t want to remove her arm – it would be childish an’ cruel, not to mention downright rude – but with all attention suddenly focused exclusively in our direction, I’m beginnin’ to feel like a rabbit caught in headlights, an’ my brain is screamin’ ‘Run, you fool!’ at me in no uncertain terms. I’m beginnin’ to understand how one o’ my victims feels, as 300 pounds o’ angry Wolverine barrels towards them, wavin’ a full fifty four inches or so o’ indestructible adamantium clawage.
I’m just contemplating brazenin’ it out an’ lettin’ rip with a snarl – jus’ so’s they know I ain’t one to be trifled with, ya understand – when the whole student body suddenly breaks into unexpected an’ spontaneous applause, an’ to say I am taken aback would be something of an understatement. Cutlery is rattled against glasses, fists are banged on tables, an’ everyone gets to their feet, cheerin’ and whoopin’ as if the damn President himself has just walked in. Across the room, I can see Jubilee standin’ on her chair, blowin’ whistles around her fingers, an’ Kitty is actually cryin’. Cryin’, god-dammit!
What the hell …… ?
In the middle o’ the chaos, Marie grabs my muttonchops an’ pulls my face down to hers, where she captures my lips in a searin’ kiss. For a split second, I am stunned, then instinct kicks in an’ I surround her with my arms, leanin’ in to give the clinch some serious attention.
An’ jus’ like that, I find myself kissin’ my girl in front o’ the whole damn school.
The applause reaches deafenin’ levels an’ I pull back slightly, gazin’ into Marie’s fathomless green eyes as I try to make some sense o’ what’s happenin’. She grins back at me, proudly.
“They’ve been worried about you, sugah, and are just happy to see you alive and well,” she explains, snugglin’ back into my embrace. “Everyone loves you, Logan.” She lowers her voice to a pitch only I am able to hear. “But only ah get to make love to you tonight.”
Well, with that kinda promise ringin’ in my ears, I am only too happy to allow Marie to lead me to my usual table at the far end o’ the room. The celebrations are beginnin’ to die down now, as hungry people return to their meals, but several o’ the older students are brave enough to reach out an’ pat me on the back as we go past. Seems like my brush with death has impressed these folks somewhat. Hope they remember that the next time I head their survivalist trainin’ ……
Half way to our usual table, Marie’s attention is diverted by a wave from Storm an’ we change direction mid-pace an’ head for her table.
“Logan! It is good to see you on your feet again!” The white-haired beauty drags me into a fond embrace, an’ suddenly I am surrounded by the scent o’ rain an’ wildflowers. Her hands on my back feel cool through my tee.
“Da, you gave us quite the scare.” This from the big Russian bruiser seated on the other side o’ the table. He’s a decent guy – offered to help when Stryker an’ his goons invaded the mansion a couple o’ years back – an’ I toss him an acknowledgin’ nod.
“Don’t go off and sit by yourself, Logan. Sit here with us for a change. We’d love to have you join us.” Ororo indicates two empty seats an’ I hesitate. Being sociable really ain’t one o’ my strong suits an’ the weather witch is lookin’ at me so hopefully that I really don’t know how to let her down gently.
“Well ……” I begin, an’ get no further as Marie pulls out an empty chair an’ all but manhandles me into it. I grunt as my ass hits the seat an’ Marie leans over my shoulder, lettin’ her hair drape down my chest an’ fillin’ my senses with her heady scent.
“Wait here, sugah, ah’ll go and get you something to eat.” An’ with that she is gone, leavin’ me starin’ around at my table companions like a loon.
Jean, seated to my left, reaches out to pat my knee. “The last few days have changed her in more ways than one, Logan,” she tells me, confidentially. “I guess it was bound to happen, thinking you dead and all.” She smiles, helpfully. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
She turns back to her meal, leaving the way open for Henry to lean forward an’ welcome me back to the fold. By the time Marie returns, bearin’ two plates o’ food, I have managed to behave myself an’ pass the time in civil conversation with everyone at the table, bar one, an’ it looks like he ain’t in the mood for idle chit-chat, at least with me. Marie looks pleased to find everyone still alive, an’ gives me a beamin’ smile as she takes her place beside me.
I have to hand it to my girl, she knows how to fill a guy’s stomach. Particularly a guy who has been shot seven times, certified dead, autopsied, resurrected, an’ spent the last four days in a healin’ coma. The plate she places in front o’ my nose is filled simply with steak – no fancy trimmings, just steak. An’ she’s obviously hunted out the rarest pieces too, if the pink juices are anything to go by. Showin’ her my impressive canines in a rare smile, I resist the impulse to pick the steaks up with my fingers an’ rip into them with my teeth, opting to go with the cutlery neatly laid out on the table before me for appearances sake. No cause to go upsettin’ the natives.
I must admit, the first forkful sends me into something of a feedin’ frenzy, an’ I blot out all conversation around me as I concentrate on inhalin’ my meal. Mindful of my condition an’ the need to fill myself with protein quickly, my table companions happily do everything in their power to prevent anything from hinderin’ this process, although at no time do they make me feel uncomfortable or exclude me from the general flow of chatter going around the table. It’s obvious I’ve been accepted into the fold, so to speak, an’ the feelin’ is a strange one. I haven’t eaten with this much company in years, an’ Marie keeps givin’ me sidelong glances, almost as though checkin’ I’m still there. I suddenly realise that, with all that’s happened to me in the last few days, I’ve entered a whole new world. One where my brush with death an’ Marie’s unconditional acceptance of my feral nature has opened up a whole new vista of possibilities. I’d be a fool not to take advantage of them.
Yet, beneath all this, I can’t shake the feelin’ that something is brewin’. It has nothing to do with ambushes or carbonadium bullets, or even with mysterious women who wait outside cabins for the dead. But it has everything to do with a certain young X-Man, who is the only person at the table who hasn’t acknowledged my presence. An’ who doggedly refused to look up from his meal while all around him were celebratin’ my return to health.
There’s definitely something eatin’ Scott Summers ……
After devourin’ five steaks an’ a generous helpin’ o’ apple pie – which I didn’t have the heart to refuse after young Rahne Sinclair was elected as spokesperson for her table an’ pushed, wide-eyed, in my direction, clutchin’ the overfull bowl in nervous hands – I am definitely feelin’ much better an’ in the mood to kill something. Funny how I always want to dive right back into the action after being laid up for a few days. I can’t say Marie is pleased with my idea – it’s obvious she was hopin’ to get me into bed for some major action of an entirely different variety, but she nods when I tell her that I need to let off some steam an’ settles for a tanglin’ o’ tongues at the bottom o’ the stairs before I stalk off in the direction o’ the lower levels an’ a date with the Danger Room. I think she woulda come with me if I’d let her, but she understands my need for freedom an’ privacy now an’ then, an’ I catch her tiny wave of encouragement as the elevator doors close an’ whisk me down to the nerve center o’ the mansion.
I briefly consider fightin’ in my jeans an’ tee, but I’ve ruined one good pair o’ jeans already this week an’ I’m something of a miser when it comes to buyin’ clothes. So I drag my fightin’ uniform out of its locker, suit up an’ go to work. I programme one o’ my favourite locations – the mountains o’ northern Canada – an’ then fill it with the evilest assortment o’ bad-assess the computer can come up with.
Standin’ ankle deep in pristine white snow, I unsheathe my claws an’ prepare to unleash hell ……
Two hours later, I have worked up a healthy sweat, the computer has run outta opponents to throw at me but, more importantly, I am in possession of a far healthier mood than I had when I went in. The prospect o’ claimin’ Marie an’ buryin’ myself deep within her seems pretty good to me right now an’, to this end, I forgo changin’ back into my jeans an’ tee an’ head for the upper levels still dressed in my fightin’ uniform. I’m lookin’ forward to my girl tearin’ it offa me anyway, so it seems pointless to change an’ delay my pleasure. Besides, Marie seems to like me in the black leather – I used to catch her starin’ at my ass now an’ then, back in the days before she got control of her skin – an’ I’m willin’ to try anything once, if it’ll result in great sex. Not that sex with Marie isn’t great under normal conditions, but you get my drift, I’m sure.
Show me a woman who doesn’t get all hot under the collar when faced with a feral in black leather, an’ I’ll show you a woman who needs to get her priorities straight.
I pass a group o’ kids gathered in the hallway at the foot o’ the stairs. They nod politely as I stalk past, but then break out into gales o’ laughter as I start up. Five steps up, I pause an’ turn slowly, knowin’ a scowl has darkened my features. The hell ……? They laughin’ at me?
One look at my face an’ the kids suddenly realise they have an urgent need to be elsewhere. I continue to glare, until they turn a corner an’ disappear from view, but the sound o’ renewed laughter reaches my ears as I continue up the stairs. I almost turn around an’ go back down to demand an explanation, an’ only the firm grip on the banister keeps me going in my intended direction. Get a grip, Logan. They ain’t laughin’ at you. Someone told a joke, that’s all.
I tag Marie’s scent as I move down the hallway. She’s left my room an’ she’s now in her own, which suits me jus’ fine. Hers is further along the hallway, with an empty room on each side. Less people to disturb when I get feisty an’ make her scream my name.
As I reach out to Marie’s door handle, I scent Storm comin’ up the hallway behind me an’ I turn to acknowledge her presence. She nods as she moves past, no doubt headin’ for her attic room, her lips curlin’ into an amused smile.
“I like the improvements you’ve made to your jacket, Logan. But I think you should remove it before going into the field, don’t you? It is not exactly according to protocol.”
“My jacket ……?” My brow creases into a confused frown an’ I barely hear the sound o’ ‘Ro’s amused laughter as I shrug out o’ the heavy leather an’ turn it around in my hands to inspect the back. What I see has me barrellin’ through Marie’s door with all the grace of an enraged bull elephant on speed.
“Marie!”
Marie is sprawled on the bed readin’ a book an’ she jumps at my less than subtle entrance. “Geez, Logan ……!”
“Have you seen this?” I throw my jacket down on the bed in front o’ her. “It’s one o’ your friends, ain’t it?” Unless I’ve missed my guess, this looks like one o’ Jubilee’s practical jokes. “I’ll kill her, Marie, I swear it!”
Marie tries to hide a grin an’ turns my jacket towards her so that she can read ‘Property of the Rogue’ written in garish yellow clothes dye on the back. The words have been outlined in red glitter, for Chrissakes! “Oh, Logan, it’s just a joke.”
“A joke?” I spit back, angry beyond all tellin’. “Marie, some kids laughed at me in the hallway, fer Chrissakes! Storm’s seen it! An’ I fought Sabretooth in it! Sabretooth, Marie!”
“Oh, sugah, it’s not as if he were the real one.”
“That’s not the point, Marie. The point is that that mouthy friend o’ yers has ruined my uniform an’ made me a laughin’ stock!”
“A sense of humour really isn’t your strong point, is it, sugah?” Marie smiles as she slips off the bed an’ moves towards me, reachin’ out a hand to caress my arm as she glides past an’ closes the door with a soft click. I growl agitatedly as she snags her own fightin’ jacket off the chair by the dresser an’ spreads it out to display ‘Property of the Wolverine’ written in the same eye-watering letters on the back. It’d actually be quite amusin’ if I weren’t so flamin’ angry.
I run a hand through my hair, fightin’ the urge to shred something. Marie drapes the jacket over the back o’ the chair an’ walks slowly towards me, spreadin’ her fingers across my chest. “You really gotta learn to lighten up, sugah. Don’t take everything so seriously. Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow or you’ll explode.” She spears her fingers into my hair an’, despite my annoyance, I close my eyes at the pleasant sensation. Her breath is warm on my cheek as she leans into me. “You’re wound up tighter than a rattlesnake, lover. Don’t you ever have fun?”
“Marie …… I ……”
“Shh.” She presses a finger to my lips an’ I open my eyes as she smiles back at me, mysteriously. “Ah can make you feel all better, sugah, but you gotta trust me, okay?”
“I do trust ya, Marie, ya know that.”
“That’s good. Because …..” She pauses a moment, as though thinkin’ something through, an’ then comes to a decision. “Because ah’ve had time to do a lot of thinkin’ while you’ve been in that coma an’ there’s somethin’ ah’d like to try, but you’ve gotta let me be in control. Think you can do that, sugah?”
I hesitate, torn between my desire to find out what Marie is plannin’ an’ my dislike o’ not being in control. She senses my unease an’ presses her mouth to mine, bitin’ gently at my lower lip. “Come on, lover. Ah promise you’ll like it.”
I nod before I even realise what I’m doing. “Yes,” I hear myself say.
Marie immediately steps back, eyeing me critically. “Okay. First, that shirt has definitely got to go. Take it off. Now!”
I allow a growl to rumble around my chest as I grasp the stretchy material o’ my undershirt an’ pull it over my head with one swift movement. I don’t wanna give the impression that I’m easy but, at the same time, Marie’s dominant tone is turnin’ me on something fierce. The beast within me roars its approval.
“That’s better.” Marie spreads her fingers against my chest once more, beginnin’ to stroke me in a slow, regular pattern. My eyes drift closed o’ their own accord an’ I hear the smile in her voice as she talks to me, her tone low an’ soothin’. “That’s it, baby. Just relax. Let Marie do all the work.”
A shiver runs through me as one hand circles lower, tracin’ a line o’ hair down to my navel. She circles it once – twice – slowly, languidly, occasionally dippin’ a finger into the hollow. Distracted, I don’t feel her leanin’ in to me until her tongue flicks out to describe a lazy circle around the flattened nub of a nipple an’ I gasp, breathlessly, as the aroused flesh instantly hardens.
I tangle my fingers into her hair, pushin’ my chest forward – aching for more contact – an’ feelin’ my body respond as her hand tires o’ my navel an’ dips steadily lower, skimmin’ over the waistband o’ my leathers to grab my crotch.
I tilt my head back with a groan, loosing a hand from her hair to cover hers with mine an’ press her fingers against my growin’ erection. But I open my eyes, startled, when she slaps my hand away, an’ I growl at the affront.
Marie steps back from me, her little hands bunchin’ into fists on her hips. “No, sugah, ya don’t get to play. I’m gonna make ya feel good, but ah have to do it my way, okay? Ah need to know if …… well, that doesn’t matter right now, but it’ll all be worth it in the end, ah promise.”
She reaches for the hand she slapped an’ begins to press little kisses to the skin between my knuckles. Where the claws come out. The symbolism isn’t lost on me, an’ I swear I can actually feel my eyes darken as my lust takes over an’ my feral nature rushes to the fore.
With a rumblin’ growl, I lower my head an’ grant my mate complete and unconditional control o’ my body.
Whatever happens now, I’m merely along for the ride ……