Scott, having felt her familiar withdrawal, had already pulled away, but at the sound of the other man’s voice, he released her completely, spotting the dark figure standing at the bottom of the porch steps.
Anna didn’t want to turn around. Panicked, she tried to convince herself that if she kept her eyes closed maybe this wouldn’t be happening, maybe it was just another one of her nightmares and she could wake up back into her real world, without him. But then she heard Scott confirm what her mind screamed at her to deny. “Logan.”
Hearing his name - in Scott’s voice - made reality crash all around her. Anna released the hold that she had on Scott’s hair and stood straight; patting her hair to make sure it was still in its chignon, gathering her courage together, all of it, before stepping around to face him. The night sky was filled with clouds, and a strong wind made its way across the estate, blowing against the man who stood there, motionless. Her eyes took him in, and everything around them melted away into a faded, inconsequential nothingness until there was just him - and her.
Tight black jeans encased a pair of powerfully built legs anchored by brown leather cowboy boots, grey checkered cotton shirt unbuttoned, its sleeves protesting against flexed arms resting across a black undershirt covered chest, eyes hidden under the brim of a brown leather cowboy hat. She could make out the familiar mutton chops that outlined the sharp square of his jaw, noting his hair was longer, falling slightly past his wide shoulders, and his scent, oh god, she never forgot how tantalizing that scent could be, spiced as it was by the jealousy he was emanating. Scott touched her arm and she looked away, burning, wiping away the imagery that particular aroma dug up, because she didn’t care. Not anymore.
“Slim.” The nickname came out clipped, hard. Anna didn’t need to see Logan’s eyes to know they were trained on her, watching, assessing, and she felt ice flow through her veins, remembering just how harsh his voice could be.
“Wolverine.”
Logan tensed, her voice cold and unwelcoming, and his breath shortened as he watched Marie walk slowly down the stairs, taking in the flowing silk gown, the elegant lines of her neck and shoulders gleaming from the artificial light spilling out from within the mansion, realizing, as his heart pounded in his ears, that she had become impossibly more beautiful over the years. His fingers splayed out beside him, spastic with the need to reach out to touch her glowing skin. His nostrils flared and Logan bit back a growl.
He could smell Scott all over her.
Scott caught up with Marie as she reached the last step, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against him. Logan’s face hardened at the possessive movement and he looked to Marie but her eyes were on Scott’s hand, resting on her hip.
“I interrupt a private party?” His voice was low, deceptively calm.
Anna closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, needing to get her emotions under control, forcing herself to stop reacting to his physical cues. “What brings you here?” She ignored his question and replaced it with her own, keeping her voice even, polite.
He tilted his head, his familiar smirk appearing. “Can’t an old friend extend birthday wishes, darlin’?” His voice had taken on a sensual burr and her body ignited instantly, causing his smirk to deepen and her eyes to flash. Bastard.
“Who’s the girl?”
Anna blinked, surprised by Scott’s question. Sure enough, standing directly behind Logan was a young girl, maybe eleven, twelve years old. She was a slight little thing, small and thin, her face covered by long, stringy black hair that hung heavily across her face. The distrust that rolled off her was disconcerting, intense and aggressive; her scent similar to Logan’s which explained why Anna didn’t pick up on it sooner. Anna reached out to the child and was shocked by the hostility the girl directed towards her making Logan hold his hand up, preventing any more moves towards his young companion.
“This here is Laura,” he told them, his face in profile. “I found her in New York and after taking her to Chuck, he figured the best place for her to be is here.” He looked directly at Anna and added, “He thinks you can help her.”
Anna looked back at the young girl, suddenly understanding. Laura was feral. “The kid wouldn’t come unless I tagged along,” he added, and that caught Anna’s attention. Logan didn’t want to be here. He hadn’t come back for her.
Scott watched Anna and Logan appraise each other, and although their faces were expressionless, he didn’t need to be an empath to know there was something strong between them, the air positively charged with it. Anna’s body was rigid and unyielding against his arm, but she didn’t pull away, resting her hand over top of his and his thumb rubbed absently against the velvet box still in his pants back pocket, feeling disappointment, confusion and anger. X-Men conditioning kicked in however and Cyclops put his feelings aside, holding his hands out, palms outward to indicate to the young girl that he was harmless.
“My name is Scott Summers, Laura. Professor Xavier must have explained to you what it is that we do, and what these academies are for. We want to help you.”
The young girl’s hostility simmered down slightly as her eyes rested on Scott, eyes curious. Anna added gently, “You can trust us, Laura.” At the sound of Anna’s voice, the hostility ramped right back up again and that was a definite growl they all heard coming from the girl. Anna turned to Scott, knowing that the staff was more than likely passed out in their rooms and couldn’t be expected to settle in the new student. “Scott, can you assist our young guest? A room in the girls’ dormitory closest the gardener’s cottage would be ideal.”
She looked to the sports car that Logan had driven down from New York and it was evident by the fumes coming from the vehicle’s engine that they had driven directly down from New York State, without stopping. She shot an accusing glare at Logan, wondering how he could be so thoughtless as to not cater to the exhausted child and the growl became louder, Laura baring her teeth now, staring intently at her. Instinctively, Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and she fought back the instinct to respond to the immediate physical danger.
Logan stepped in between the two females, keeping his back to her as he faced the young girl. “Rogue is not a threat, Laura.”
Scott and Anna watched in fascination as the young girl seemed to decipher the information with a slight tilt of her head. An oddly familiar movement, Anna noted, discarding the jolt she felt hearing her old X-Man name. Laura’s hostility towards the older woman lowered substantially at Logan’s command and the expression on her face returned to being impassive. Anna looked to Logan inquisitively, but he kept his back to her as Laura stepped up to where Scott stood. She was so young and small, her large green eyes taking up most of her face. Anna stared at her, wondering why everything about the girl was so familiar but Scott took Anna’s hands into his, tugging them lightly to make her look at him.
“Will you be alright, Anna?”
Logan raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name, looking amused. “What’s gonna happen, Scooter? Scared the big bad wolf might steal your little lamb away?”
It was Anna’s turn to tug at Scott’s hands when he stiffened in anger. “It’s alright, Scott. Take care of Laura, she’s our first priority. Get her comfortable and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Scott clenched his jaw, agitated, and she reached out to cup his face in her hands, giving him her full attention. “Okay?” Something was wrong. Scott was giving off waves of frustration, sadness, and deep disappointment. Seeing the genuine concern in her eyes, he kissed both her hands and smiled reassuringly.
“Okay.” He pulled her close and kissed her, before whispering into her ear, “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” He turned back into the manor, ignoring Logan entirely and Laura followed him, without a backwards glance.
“How touching.”
Anna turned back to Logan, annoyed. His arms remained crossed at his chest, his face still half hidden by the cowboy hat but Anna knew he was angry, she knew he was jealous and she also knew he was feeling betrayed. Glaring at Marie, Logan knew she was angry, he knew she was hurt and he also knew she was afraid. Very, very afraid.
“You don’t look thirty.” He stepped closer to her, standing as close as he dared, inhaling her scent, all peppermint and honey, all his Marie.
A beat passed. “You don’t look one hundred and twenty,” she replied, her eyes intent on his, letting him know she was aware of his recovered memories.
He raised an eyebrow at that. “No welcome hug for me, Marie?” His voice was soft, compelling, and she stiffened.
The sound of that name, the name no one else called her but him, battered her insides. “I am not Marie.” Her voice sounded strange, even to her own ears, and her denial of who she was told him more than he was willing to accept.
His simmering anger shot up a few degrees. “You sure as hell ain’t no Anna.”
Her anger matched his easily. “My name is Ms. Anna Marie D’Ancanto, Mr. James Logan Howlett, and I ask that you become familiar with it while here, in my home.”
Smirk back in place, Logan walked back to the vehicle he drove in and popped open the back trunk. “Fine, kid,” he said over his shoulder as he pulled out a duffle bag. “Whatever gets you through this.” He nodded towards the house. “Cozy.”
Anna swung away from him, marching up the porch steps and through the foyer, intent on not letting him get to her, refusing to respond to the ridiculous use of her old nickname. He followed her so silently that she was half tempted to turn around to make sure he was behind her and if it wasn’t for his scent, she would have. She was well aware of his eyes pouring over her body as it sashayed up the stairs, his arousal thick and warm, and her lips curled maliciously.
She took her sweet, hips-swaying time.
Anna chose the corridor leading to the wing farthest from Scott and the other guest rooms, and upon reaching its end, entered through a set of double doors that opened into a large suite of rooms. She threw open the French doors that overlooked the gardens, letting in some much needed air to dissipate the staleness of the never used boudoir, not bothering to turn on the lights since she knew they both could see clearly without them.
“These are your rooms,” she told him matter-of-factly, waving her arm towards the bed. “The key to lock your doors are located in the nightstand’s drawer. There is a private bath to your right and a sitting room to your left and the staff will do their best to make your stay here as comfortable as possible.”
As she spoke, she noticed that he was looking at her oddly. Annoyed, since he still kept his hat on and she couldn’t see his eyes, she asked him impatiently, “Is there a problem?”
“Your accent. It’s gone.” He sounded displeased.
She stared at him a few moments, not understanding his disappointment. Not knowing what to say to that, she continued, “Our breakfast begins at 6:30am, our lunch at 11:00am and our supper at 6:00pm. In addition to that, you’re welcome to use the staff kitchen at any time and help yourself to whatever you like. Classes begin at 8:30am and end at 3:00pm and we usually have activities planned for the students throughout the evening. Its lights out by 7:00pm for the younger students, 8:30pm for the older, but obviously you are free to do whatever you see fit.”
Logan wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying, watching Marie walking slowly about the room, testing furniture tops for dust, her movements concise but graceful, carrying herself with confidence and poise, comfortable with the exposed skin her gown allowed, so unlike the woman he remembered. But she still smelled like his Marie and she was still the most beautiful creature he ever laid eyes on, and she was still the woman he loved. It was her face he saw when he sought comfort in the arms of countless women over the years and it was her name on his lips when she invaded his dreams night after night, and here she was, so close. So damn close.
Anna moved to leave through the suite doors, not wanting to be alone with him longer than necessary, uncomfortable, his attraction to her blatant and aggressive. She was angry, and she was scared and she wanted him to go away, far, far away from her, and the life she made for herself. He didn’t belong here.
“She’s my genetic clone.”
That stopped her. She turned sharply to face him, hand hovering above one of the door handles.
“She was created to be a weapon,” he informed her quietly, and she could see the weight on his shoulders, the responsibility he felt. “And she’s done some bad things. X-23 was what they called her, but her mother named her Laura.” He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a thick white envelope and she caught it easily when he threw it towards her. Quickly glancing down, Anna could make out the name “Sarah Kinney” scrawled elegantly in pen across the well worn paper.
He placed his duffle bag on the chair nearest the bed. “We have to help her, Marie.” With a tired sigh, he turned his back to her and began pulling out his things.
Anna stood there, suddenly possessed with the need to comfort him, to tell him everything would be okay and that she would take care of him, and Laura, and anything else to make him not so unhappy, not so alone. Then a red hot fury came over her and she wanted to hurt him, wanted to know why he left her, why he never came back, why he hurt her so badly, and why he couldn’t love her back when she begged him to.
Logan spun around, her turmoil hitting him like a punch to the gut, but she had already left, the doors to his room slamming closed from the wind that blew in from the garden outside.
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