Marie woke slowly, basking in an unaccustomed feeling of warmth and safety. Her sleep-hazed mind suddenly recalled the fat old tabby cat she used to have as a child, and how it would lie in a puddle of sunshine, looking absolutely content. She felt just like that old cat, so content she could purr as she wallowed in the puddle of sunshine that surrounded her...
Suddenly Marie realized she was feeling the warmth of a body pressed against hers, the safety of strong arms wrapped around her. She felt Logan’s breath, warm on the back of her neck, as he nuzzled his face into her hair. She tensed, uncertain, and instantly Logan let go of her, so quickly he had to have been already awake. He rolled to the side to sit heavily on the edge of the bed, his back to her, stripping off the gloves and running a hand through his hair. “I’ll get coffee,” he mumbled, and moments later he was gone.
What the hell was that? Marie thought.
She quickly showered, thinking back over the events of the night, angrily scrubbing at her lethal skin, racked with embarrassment at having shown such weakness to Logan. No wonder he’s taken to calling me “kid,” she thought, when I have to be put to bed after a nightmare like a frightened little girl.
She hurriedly dressed, but he seemed to be taking his time getting coffee. And why should it matter to me anyway what he thinks of me? We’re going our separate ways in a few hours. She refused to acknowledge the empty pit that seemed to open up in her stomach at the thought.
A quick tap at the door, and Logan was opening it, juggling two cups of coffee with the room key. “Mornin’,” he said, smiling at her, and against her will she felt her heart lurch again. Dammit. Stupid, stupid, Marie.
___
Marie took a gulp of her coffee as she drove, welcoming the bitter taste, feeling the lingering haze of her sleepiness dissipate as the caffeine roared through her system. From what she could remember of her panicked flight from the bar, it should be about an hour or two on the main road, and then a few minutes on the backroads. She hoped between the two of them they could retrace the path to find the place again.
“Do you really think it’s safe to go back there?” she asked.
Logan nodded. “We can park a little ways away and go on foot to be sure, but they didn’t serve breakfast so there shouldn’t be much going on this early. And drunk as those rednecks were, I don’t see them having the patience to stake out the lot waiting for us to come back. If they are, though, I’ll sniff ‘em out before they see us.”
She cast him a sidelong glance. “You said something like that before...that you should have smelled that I was hurt. You meant it literally? Is that part of your mutation?”
He looked a little uncomfortable. “Yeah. Feral, they call it. Better sense of smell, better hearing. Can see better at night, too. Not sure if all of that’s part of the healing, or a different thing.”
She wanted to ask him about the claws, but had the feeling that would be a little too personal. She tried to stifle her curiosity about him, but when he didn’t break the silence either she finally gave up. What did it matter, anyway, if he got mad at her for prying? They would be saying goodbye in a little while.
“What do you do? Like, for a job?”
He leaned back, stretching his long legs out as far as they could go in the footwell of her car. “I’ve done a lot of things in my time, but mostly these days it’s security stuff.”
“Security? Like being a bodyguard or something?”
“I have done stuff like that. Healing’s especially useful for that line of work, of course. Lately it’s mostly security systems, though. Looking over systems to see where the weaknesses are, recommending changes. In peoples’ home security system, or even in their daily routine -- points of vulnerability, stuff like that. Even training people to defend themselves sometimes.”
Marie thought it over. “These sure are unsafe times,” she mused. “You must be in demand.”
“I am. Thought I was due a vacation, though, so when I finished up a system in New Orleans I told my boss I’d take the long way back to New York. Figured I’d ride the bike around a little, get some fresh air before starting the next job.”
She felt a little of her suspicion towards him ease. His explanation of his job fit together with what she had sensed about him, and it explained why he knew so much about getting shot. As scruffy as he might dress, she had known he wasn’t just a drifter, she had seen that smartphone he never let out of his sight, and things like that and the fancy bike she had just caught a glimpse of weren’t cheap.
“How about you?,” he asked. “What do you do when you’re not rescuing little mutants from rednecks?”
She avoided his keen gaze. “Nothing too exciting. I came into some money a while back, and decided I’d travel around a bit. See if I could find a place that felt like home.” She took another gulp of her coffee, buying herself time to see if he would push her for more. He didn’t, and that suddenly made her want to talk.
“When I was a kid I had this big idea that I was going to be a travel writer. I was going to go all over the world and people would read about my adventures. Maybe I would even write a book. I had my first big adventure all mapped out on the wall of my bedroom in high school. I was going to go all the way up to Northern Canada, to see snow for the first time.”
She thought of the girl she had been then, so excited and sheltered and naive it stung just to think about it. She shook her head a little to clear the memory. “Now I just travel, I guess. I made a rule for myself to try to do something every day I’m on the road, just to keep it interesting. It keeps me off the highways and takes me onto the backroads, so I can really see the places I’m passing through.”
She flashed him a grin. “I’ve probably seen every roadside attraction from Seattle to Key West. If you have any questions about the World’s Largest Ball of Twine, or the Museum of Lunch Boxes, I’m your woman.” She suddenly felt a little embarrassed. “It’s silly, I know...”
“No,” he said. “It sounds...fun.” She shot him a skeptical glance. “I mean it,” he said. “I travel a lot, but I can’t remember the last time I just...stopped to check things out along the way.” There was a note of surprised realization in his voice that seemed sincere.
To her surprise, the rest of the drive passed quickly, in remarkably companionable conversation. She told him about some of her favorite stops and attractions, and although he wasn’t much of a talker he told her a little about some of the places he had visited. Before she realized it, they were close to the bar.
She saw the tension in his body increase as they got close. They parked a little ways away, and at a gesture from him she followed him into the woods that lined the road. He moved absolutely silently, keeping just inside the treeline parallel to the road, and Marie felt unbearably clumsy and clamorous as she stumbled in his wake, apparently snapping every twig and rustling every leaf that he deftly avoided. He turned around and raised an eyebrow at the racket she was making, and she stuck out her tongue at him.
With a quiet chuckle he took her gloved hand, and with his silent guidance she managed to move a little more softly through the woods. Suddenly he stopped, his grip tightening on hers. She watched as he sniffed the air.
“Stay here,” he murmured. “Something’s not right.”
She watched anxiously as he approached the lot, her view obscured by a small patch of trees and brush. Her heart beat rapidly in her ears as the silence drew on unbearably.
“Sonuvabitch!” She jumped at his loud exclamation. He didn’t sound like he was under attack, just -- pissed off?
She cautiously made her way through the trees. She was able to see the parking lot now, and it looked deserted. Logan was standing by his bike...no, wait. Logan was standing by what used to be his bike.
“Oh, no,” she said to herself. “Oh, no.” A twisted, charred, hulk of metal teetered where the beautiful, sleek motorcycle had been parked.
“Goddamn sons of bitches!” Logan said, as she watched him circle the wreckage. He kicked the heap and it fell over with a crash, charred metal parts skittering over the gravel of the parking lot. As she watched he clenched his fists, taking deep breaths to rein in his temper.
“It’s my fault,” Marie said miserably. “You wanted to take the bike, and I forced you into my car. I got you into this mess in the first place. I’m so sorry -- your beautiful bike, and all your stuff...”
With a visible effort, Logan let some of the tension out of his body, rolling his massive shoulders and cracking his neck. He came over to her and put his arm around her. “It’s not your fault, darlin’.”
She ducked her head against his side, reluctant to meet his eyes. “It is.” She pulled away from him. “I have some money,” she said. “I’ll pay you for your bike. I know it won’t replace it, but at least...”
He interrupted her with a snort. “I’m not takin’ your money, Marie.” He took one last look at the wreckage, and shrugged. “It was insured, anyway. It’ll just take some time to get things sorted out.”
He sighed and started back into the woods, a remorseful Marie close behind him. “At least let me get you a plane ticket to New York...”
He laughed. “I’m not much one for flying, Marie, and airlines don’t take kindly to people with giant knives in their arms.” He shook his head. “No, I’ll make my way up to New York by road. I’m not takin’ any of your money, though, so quit offerin’.” He took her gloved hand to help her over a fallen log. “The only thing I really need right now is a ride,” he said absently. He suddenly stopped and looked down at her. “Wanna go to New York?,” he asked.
She stared at him. “What? You want to ride with me? All the way to New York?”
He looked a little sheepish. “Never mind, it’s a lot to ask. I just figured if you didn’t have any particular place you were headed...” He trailed off. “But don’t worry about it. If you can just give me a ride to a rental car place...”
“No, I didn’t mean...it’s not too much to ask, I just...” She stopped, flustered. “Do you want to? I mean, why would you want to travel all that way with me?”
“Why not?” he asked. “I’ll split the gas and motels with you. I travel alone all the time, it might be nice to have some company for a change. ‘Sides, it sounds like I’ve been missing out. All this time I’ve been traveling and I still haven’t seen the World’s Largest Ball of Twine...”
They walked silently for awhile, as Marie tried to get her thoughts in order. Why would he suggest that? He had money, he could get his own car. Maybe it’s as simple as he says, she thought. He wants to stay with me a little longer. Something warmed inside her at the thought, joy and excitement and...something else...at the thought of traveling with him some more. Did she really want to let him drive off and never see him again? She admitted to herself that she had been dreading that moment. Take a chance, she thought.
“Logan?” she said, and he stopped walking and turned to look at her. She felt the grin spreading on her face, and watched the answering smile spread across his face. “Do you want to see the largest ball of twine ever, or the largest ball of twine rolled by one man? Because one’s in Kansas, and the other one’s in Minnesota...”
_______
[text message log:]
Logan to Xavier: Traveling with the target to New York. After I establish more trust I will approach her about the mansion.
Xavier to Logan: Excellent. Gather any information you can to help us establish her identity, in the event that she refuses our offer.
Logan to Xavier: My compliments to ‘Ro, she sure did a number on that bike. I’ll let her explain to Scooter what happened to his Harley.
Xavier to Logan: That might be best. Be well. Keep in contact.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm actually writing faster than expected, so if y'all promise not to be stingy with reviews, I'll try to update twice a week if I can. Sorry if this chapter seems uneventful, it had to happen for the rest of the story to happen. If it helps, Chapter Five has some Roganliciousness, and in Chapter Six you finally find out why Marie can make ice... ;-)]
Chapter End Notes:
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