The last few beams of light disappear behind an old brick building and her surroundings instantly dim. Marie glances around her, pulling the hoodie further down on her head, she speeds up her paces towards the brownstone next street over. It is an old vacant property owned by her mother that has been languishing for some time. It is also the perfect location for her new base of operations. Logan has been scarce since the incident with Jimmy, and the only private eye that looked capable to her seemed otherwise occupied. She did leave her a message on the off chance that she might be interested.

She hops up the front steps and unlocks the front door. The living room is dark and dusty, the boarded up windows and broken down furniture adds an ominous ambiance to her surroundings. Marie claps her hands together in excitement. This location is perfect, it is just what she needs. The property is off the ledger and the location shields her from routine attention of the press and the authorities.

Pulling off the dust cloth from a nearby table she fans away the cloud of dust before placing her new laptop on it. So far she only has one clue, the one that masked man conveniently gave her. She figures it is as good as a place to start as any. First though, she needs to set up shop and tidy up. She plans to spend a lot of her free time here and it would be nice to have this house up to standards.

After some extensive cleaning, Marie is finally satisfied with her surroundings. She pulls a large case into the living room. It contains the armor Logan gave her from when she made the junior X-Men; adding to that an old designer trench coat she dug out of her closet and a few gadgets, her new adventuring gear is all accounted for. In fact, with most of the heavier armor plating removed and the trench coat over it all, she is certain she can pass by for an average New Yorker.

After moving the boxes for the armor and her laptop into the basement, she opens a bottle of water and sits down in front of her notebook computer. The screen flickers to life as soon as it recognizes her thumbprint. After running a quick security scan, she dives into the files stored on the USB drive.

There is not much on the drive just a series of grainy security footages. Marie is surprised to see how recent the dates on the clips are and from the few available traffic camera images, she is able to place the man she has been warned about. This Alexi is placed at some of the most recent flares up in violence around the city.

The man is always masked and moves like a textbook example of an ex-military thug, yet something nags at her. Here and there she sees glimpses of a familiar motion, she’s not sure, it could just be common military mannerism that Logan also possess. But she can’t shake the feeling that this might just be him in disguise.

Closing the laptop Marie lays back in her chair and stretches. She is tempted to ask her friends for help on this but is immediately reminded of the unspoken rule in the school, stay away from the Wolverine. Standing up she walks over to the case that contains her armor. Looking down into the case, she nods to herself, there is no reason to get her friends in trouble, tracking down a few thugs should be simple for someone like her.

After marking down several locations on her map app, she dons her armor, then wraps the trench coat around her. Taking a quick look at herself in the full-length mirror near the door she smiles to herself. She looks a slight bit overdressed for late August but nothing too out of place. Fighting off the excitement that threatens to spill from her, she steps out onto the street.

Marie lurches on her seat as the subway pulls away from the station. She pulls out her new burner phone and tracks her progress on the GPS. She is getting close to her stop and she’ll only be half an hour late from when she planned to start her operation. Even after this short ride she is already determined to acquire her own method of transportation. It has been a humbling experience her first time trying to navigate the MTA. Thankfully, an elder gentleman from Louisiana had the patience to guide her through the processes.

Suddenly a shadow looms over her. She quickly realizes that besides the three disgruntled looking men standing before her, she is alone in this car. The biggest of them speaks with a crooked smile, “Hey, girl nice threads. Think you can spare a few dollars.”

Marie looks away, faking a cough into the surgical mask she is wearing before speaking, “It’s just an old trench coat.”

The man grabs her by her collar and yanks her up towards him, close enough for her to smell his alcohol tainted breath. “You’re wearing Gucci bitch! And I saw the cash you were flashing at the station.”

Marie sighs then lets out a few amused chuckles. “I really should have asked Jubes for some fashion advice.”

“Fuck you talking about you crazy cunt?!” The man angrily shakes her, screaming right in her face as Marie’s eyes start to glow. “Shit! You’re one of-”

Three quick flashes of red light and the thugs surrounding her are thrown back into the side of the railcar unconscious. She kneels down by them to check their vitals and stands up satisfied. They will be sore for a few days but suffer no real permanent damage. Surprisingly, the uncomfortable seat manages to absorb most of the impact from her optic blast. She leaps off the train as the doors open. Not a great start to her first completely independent operation but the night is still young, she can turn this around yet.

As she nears her target location for the night, Marie places the ballistic mask onto her face. From the information the masked man offered her, she knows the run-down shell of a building is supposed to be of some importance. Just as she decides her approach to the target, she can pick up the faint movement from a structure nearby. She leaps in through a broken window and stealthily makes her way up.

The sound of fighting grows louder as she ascends the stairs. She peeks around the wall to see two men facing each other. She recognizes one of the men immediately; it is the same masked man that gave her the USB. She can hear him threaten the man who is pinned to the wall. Marie frowns at the scene but decides not to intervene. The pile of drug packs lets her know the other man is not altogether innocent.

The masked man departs after extracting an address and she follows close behind. She was enamored with the idea of finding Logan, and perhaps even surprising him. She can now admit that she might have acted too quickly. Now that she’s seen first hand what the masked man is capable of, she is much more wary of any information from him.

After watching him beat down another thug for information, she tracks him all the way to the docks, into another decrepit building in the warehousing area. When she phases through the wall, Marie has the mind to question what the hell she just got herself into. The masked man is facing another and perhaps more skilled opponent. Thanks to her memories or Logan’s to be precise, she can recognize that other man to be a ninja. They have already been fighting for quite some time, and judging by the accumulation of wounds all over the masked man’s body, she would say the fight has been going on for a while.

Frozen in place Marie watches as the two men struggle against each other. When the masked man falls to the ground after another exchange of blows she begins to worry, until a spark of showers sets the ninja on fire. The burning man makes one last charge towards his opponent before falling down to the ground one last time.

Just as Marie is about to move to aid the masked man, more men enter the room. At the glimpse of the lead man, Marie freezes in shock, it’s Wilson Fisk, a local developer with obvious ambitions. She remembers him from the press conference after that massive night of gang warfare in Hell’s Kitchen a while ago, and more importantly from early this morning when her momma’s aid informed her of their attendance at a benefit in his honor.

After a brief exchange of words, the two start to fight, with the masked man receiving the brunt of the punishment. Watching from the shadows Marie is frozen with indecision. She feels the strong urge to jump out and intervene, she is sure she can handle all three of them, even the massive gorilla-like Fisk currently smashing his fist down on the masked man. But the risk is not just hers to bear if she is discovered she could destroy everything her momma has worked for.

It is over before she can make the decision. She ducks away from the stray bullets and watches as the masked man crashes through the nearby window and hears the splash when he lands in the river.

Cornelius struggles in the chair Logan strapped him to, whimpering through his gag. A few of his Russian thugs rush in with a folding table, a leather bundle, and some lights. They set up the table and the lights and unroll the bundle. The collection of sharp metal instruments glitter in the intense floodlights. Logan sits down on the table and draws out a viciously curved knife. At the sight of it, Cornelius breaks out in fresh sobs. Logan remains stone-faced, he can inflict far more pain with his claws that even the most skillful man with these knives, but not nearly as much as Cornelius’ own imagination.

“Ya know where Stryker is,” Logan states in a flat tone, and even though it wasn’t a question Cornelius nods his head in agreement. He tests the knife lightly on the table, the sharp edge easily cutting into the hard plastic. “And yer smart enough to know that it hurts a lot less if ya cooperate.”

Cornelius nods his head so rapidly it looks almost comical. Logan smirks at last, with so much practice he has gotten extremely proficient at breaking someone like Cornelius down. With a flick of his wrist Logan slices, the gag from the old man’s mouth. Standing up Logan takes a step back and clasps his hands in front of him. “The sooner I confirm the info ya give me, the bigger yer head start on Sabretooth would be.”

With the mentioning of Sabretooth’s name, everything spills out of the old scientist, “There is a list of address that I know he visits. They are on my phone. I can give you the decryption key. But he never tells anyone the time in advance. That’s all I know!”

Logan checks the phone and nods. He rises and walks towards the entrance, stopping at the edge of the door. He glances back, “If everything checks out, my guys will dump ya somewhere upstate. Best if ya hit the ground running.”

He pours over the latest reports from his commanders. With the information provided by Cornelius, there is little practical reason to remain in New York for much longer. Ideally, he would like to have a clean withdraw right after Stryker is dealt with. That means he needs to offload this operation to a buyer, one who is likely distracted from his involvement in this.

“Where the fuck is Cornelius?!” Victor bursts into Logan’s smokey office, breaking one of the door hinges on his way in.

Logan looks up from the stack of reports on his desk. He places a report back on the desk and snuffs out his cigar. He takes the chance and pours himself another drink before answering. “Gone.”

“How?” Victor narrows his eyes at Logan and growls, “You let him go?”

“We had a deal.” Logan shrugs his shoulder, his eyes lowering back down to the piles of paper stacked on his desk.

Victor is suddenly in front of Logan and slams his palm into the table. The metal table warps under his fist. “Fuck your deal! He was mine!”

Sliding a map with a large red “X” on it towards Victor, Logan smirks, “Have at ‘em, that’s where he got dropped, he’s got about 6 hours on ya.”

With a snarl, Victor leaps out of the open window next to Logan, and less than a second later he hears Victor hit the ground running. Logan lets out a breath, while things did go as he planned, it could also have turned very ugly. He is just glad that Victor can be so very single-minded and thankfully while like himself Victor’s urge to hunt is overwhelming, unlike himself, Victor is never one to practice self-control.

Logan picks up another satellite image, a small concrete structure can be seen through the LADAR print out. If it all works out by this time next week Stryker will finally be in his hands. He lights another cigar and pours himself another drink. Time is short and he knows it is going to be a long night.

Within the well-lit ballroom of the Van Lunt building, Marie mingles with a crowd of Hell’s Kitchen’s finest. If she is honest though people like these are normally beneath her mother’s notice. However, ever since her mother’s entry into politics her presence at events like these are becoming more and more common. She smiles when Emma arrives in a sparkling white corset and matching mini skirt. The crowd parts before her and many appreciative or envious eyes follow after her. Marie greets her friend with a relieved smile, “Thank god you’re here, Emma. I am about to be bored out of my mind.”

“Oh, Marie,” Emma hands her a flute of champagne with a teasing smile, “Slumming doesn’t quite agree with you?”

“Thank you, Emma.” Marie takes the glass and wrinkles her nose as the bubbles rising up from the drink. Only Emma would consider an event like this slumming. Considering Emma’s background, Marie is not surprised Emma works extra hard to fit into their social circles. However given some of the rumors behind the organizers of this event, Marie is inclined to agree with Emma’s assessment. Grinning, she leans in conspiratorially, “Honestly, I don’t even know why we are here.”

Emma glances at the group of young men edging close to them. “Maybe we should find a nice handsome young man to finally make a woman out of you?”

“Emma! Don’t drag me into you proclivities!” Marie giggles at her friend’s antic, heat rises to her cheeks at what Emma is teasing at. After all these years she would think she’d be used to Emma and her odd ways of flirting with men. “I meant we, momma is here of all places.”

“You need different kinds of friends in politics...” Emma remarks disdainfully, and Marie follows her gaze to where her mother is currently shaking hands with a senator.

Just as Emma raises her to drink to her lips, something finally clicks in Marie’s mind about the strange smell. She reaches out and stops Emma. Just then glass is heard crashing to the marble floor, and a man a few dozen feet away falls to the ground foaming at the mouth.

Marie quickly looks over to her mother and sighs in relief. She waves at Sage who is now right next to Irene. Then she feels Emma’s hand on her shoulder, she turns back to her friend. She can hear the shock in Emma’s voice when she speaks. “Shit, that was close! Thank you. But, how did you know?”

“Just had a hunch.” Marie smiles and taps her nose. Before they can continue her mother’s security burst into the room. As Marie and Emma are rushed out towards the secure exit, she can hear the sirens and the paramedics rush into the room.

Marie looks across the street towards her target for the night, a location she is scheduled to check out tonight. She doesn’t think the poisoning at that party was an attempt on her mother’s life but she decided to look into it out of an abundance of caution. The meat packing warehouse is tucked deep in the recess of old Chinatown and far from the glamour and lights of the tourist district. A convenient location for what she is planning to do.

She quickly crosses the main street. Once she is hidden in the alley Marie removes the trench coat, revealing the form fitting suit underneath. While her first attempt at disguising herself was an obvious failure, she made more of an effort this time, even enduring a fashion lesson from Jubes. She pulls the hood over her head and attaches her face mask. With a press of a button she hears the hiss of air as the suit hermetically seals itself, a few taps of the buttons on her wrist, and the colors of the armor shift. In the shadowy, sparsely lit streets the urban combat mode she’s chosen for tonight should blend well into this worn down cityscape.

She scales the building across the street, hoping to gain a better vantage point. Plus from her personal experience, the important people always like high places. And wherever those important people are important information is always close by. Scanning the building with her rangefinder she is heartened to see no workers that should be here, but the heavily armed guards puzzle her. Adding to it, the obvious scars of battle on the building are making her doubt her intel.

Drug dealers usually prefer the cover of anonymity. Despite what she’s heard recently, she is not sure if they would be so brazen as to promote themselves. While it is possible that the heightened security is for a gathering of their leaders, something feels off. Even though the hopes of a breakthrough tonight are quickly fading Marie still feels she needs to see this through. She can still help people by ridding the neighborhood of these men, even if it won't directly advance her cause.

The guards might be heavily armed but they are few in number. She easily maneuvers around the half a dozen guards on patrol and finds a direct line of sight to what appears to be a hastily arranged office. Focusing on an empty spot next to the folding table Marie lets the voices in her mind free. A moment later she appears in the office in a cloud of blue smoke. The office is brightly lit, and she can see boxes of documents and stacks of PCs laid out haphazardly around the room. A quick scan of several documents and Marie breaks into a smile. Most of them detail the movement of drugs through the city. Suddenly as the sulfuric air fades from the room, a scent catches her attention. She follows it to a table in the corner also piled high with documents. The stub of a still lit cigar lays resting in an ashtray, the kind Logan loves.

The office door suddenly bursts open and two masked men rush in. The leading man hits a button on the wall and ballistic shutters slam down to cover the windows. Before she can react he is on her. She can feel the force of his strikes even through her armor. Falling back Marie lashes out with a kick, yet he brushes aside her attempts at defense with ease, pinning her to the ground. Fear starts rising as she feels the weight of his body settle above her. He barks a command in some foreign language and the other man who seems confused by the entire display quickly retreats. When the blast doors drop sealing them in she starts to panic.

She focuses her mind and summons her powers, only to feel a blow to the back of her head. A tingly sensation spreads throughout her body, and none of her powers respond to her. She looks at him in disbelief, he just made her lose control of all her powers. But she quickly focuses, there is one power, a curse on her life that has never been controlled. She twists on the floor, using every technique she has learned, to break loose. But it wasn't her actual intent, she doesn’t need to be completely free just an arm is enough.

She taps the emergency release on her armor and several plates pop off in a blast of air. The man easily deflects the few makeshift project tiles while keeping her pinned. Marie smirks as the glove slips off her hand she has the opening she needs. Reaching out, her bare fingers find their way under his mask and brush against his skin and her fingers begin to tingle. She braces herself for the rush of memories. Yet she feels nothing but a burst of warmth flooding into her. Marie sags in disappointment, losing hope as even her trump card has failed.

Still holding one of her hands down the man yanks off her mask with surprising ease and a familiar voice rumbles from him, “Fuck!”

“Logan?” Her heart pounding, Marie slides her hands higher pushing the mask back, revealing Logan’s surprised face. Relief floods through her and she relaxes, the moment is surreal. He is here, and she is touching him.

He stands up and away from her. She is suddenly flooded by a sense of loss at their fading connection. Then a gasp as she is lifted up by her waist and pressed against him. He is on his phone speaking in that foreign tongue again. The window shutters open and the blast doors slide back into the wall.

Her mind is spinning, there are so many questions she wants to ask him that she didn’t realize he’d moved them into an elevator till the door closes on them and the room goes dim. She stands there pressed against him, trying her best to sort out the tornado of swirling emotions inside her.

The silence continues till the elevator doors open and she is deposited onto a bed, his hands already moving quickly to relieve her of her armor. His voice reaches her in a same low rumble. “Did I hurt ya?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She whispers shaking her head slightly, almost moaning when she feels his fingers pressing into her back, and a strange feeling spreads through her. Intuitively she seems to know her other powers are back. As his deft hands continue to work on her armor, the butterflies in her stomach flutter ever more intensely. Finally, a flush rises to her face when for the second time she is in front of him dressed in the incredibly thin undersuit.

She lifts her hand to his face and drags her fingernails through his mutton chops. Savoring the sensation of his skin against hers. She tries to speak but finds herself at a loss for words. This situation is simply beyond her wildest dreams, one she does not want to wake up from. He pulls her closer to the edge and moves himself between her thighs, his hand gently rubbing her legs. “You alright? Everything alright?”

Somehow she knows he is not just referring to the fight that happened moments ago but also to what happened with Jimmy, and that yanks her out of this moment. More responsible parts of her mind quickly remind her of her mission and the reason why she is there tonight. She nods again, “I’m doing okay.”

Logan must have sensed the change in the mood as well. He stands up and walks towards the small fridge nearby. Taking out a can of coffee he waves it in her direction. “Wanna drink?”

“Just water, please.” Marie takes the time to look around the underground room. Besides the bed she is on and the fridge Logan is digging through, there is not much else save for boxes upon boxes piled high.

Catching the water Logan tosses to her, she thanks him and takes a small sip. The cold water is refreshing on her tongue, and she is more thirsty than she realized. One sip quickly leads her to drinking the entire bottle. She tosses the empty bottle away, finally asking the question filling her mind. “You can touch me?”

She wanted to ask more important questions like why is he here and for what reason. But that question could not wait no matter how responsible she is supposed to be. “Since when?”

“Since when we first met, ya ain’t the only mutant I’ve met that can suck out someone’s life.” Perhaps it is the nonchalant way he just brushed away what is one of the greatest challenges to her having a normal life. But she’s more than aroused by the mere thought of Logan touching her whenever he wants.

“Right…” Marie forcefully shoves the thoughts aside, she needs to get herself under control. How embarrassing for her to be practically gushing over a man at a time like this. “Umm…. what exactly are you doing here? This was supposed to be a triad facility.”

“Yeah, it was.” He finds himself a box to sit down on and crumples the can of beer he just finished. “I’m running some ops here in the city, needed them out of the way.”

A dose of reality just suddenly intruded in on her time with Logan. While she has unshakable confidence in him when it comes to her own well being. She knows he is not above getting his hands dirty when it comes to achieving his goals, and there are lines he would cross without a second thought that would forever haunt her.

Judging by the scars of battle the building wears she is certain that the takeover was anything but peaceful. Logan is from a different world than her, one where he must kill or die. She understands that and measures her words very carefully. “Are you part of the recent flare ups in gang violence?”

He looks over at her amused, a particular look flashes across his handsome face. She thought he might interrupt and dismiss her outright. She didn’t think a veteran like him would suffer a lecture from someone like her yet he seems to be seriously considering her question. The look in his eyes tells her everything she needs to know. Marie gathers her nerve before continuing. “We’re not in the jungles of South American, Logan, you can’t just-”

“No?” He leans in close, almost as if he is challenging her, yet neither his face nor his voice reveal anything of what he is thinking. Despite the slow build of anxiety within her, she does not think he would casually disregard her like many of the men she knows.

The silence stretches long, and Marie finds it unbearable. Wishing he would say something, anything she stares right at him and presses her point, “No, there are innocent people, thousands of them that could be hurt, if you do.”

His chuckle makes her feel queasy until he nods. “Guess I could be a bit more careful.”

She sighs in relief; it is not the answer she likes, but she will accept that. Just about anything would be better than Logan running completely wild in the streets of New York. The mere thought of that sends a chill through her. There is just one last thing she’d like to discuss. “The men you’re working with… they are criminals? Russian mob right?”

He is suddenly behind her with another bottle of water. She accepts it gladly and takes a few large gulps. She stops and slowly lowers the bottle when she realizes he is still so very close. His fingers trace over the few spots where he struck her earlier. She gasps under his touch though not from pain. His voice is low when he answers, “More or less.”

When his hand rises to her face, she puts her own against his and leans into his touch. “Why do you have to do things that way?”

“Because nothing else worked so far.” His voice hardens and she can feel him slipping away. She holds onto his hand tighter and searches his eyes for the Logan she remembers. When she finds what little traces of him fading, she pulls him down to her, wraps her arms around him she pulls him to her chest. After an eternity of silence, a little part of her Logan finally returns, and he mumbles into her embrace, “If there was a better way darlin’ I would.”