Nauseatingly sweet Pop songs play on the juke box. The radio next to the bar drones on about the Serbian withdraw from Kosovo. Logan blocks out the rest of the report, he was just there a few months ago, during some of the worst parts of the fighting, and he did not wish to rehash those memories.
Leaning against the bar, the snow falling outside dredges up other memories, conflicting memories, he and Marie seems to have a connection with snow. It was snowing when he found her, it was snowing when he lost her, it was snowing when she returned to him, and it was snowing when he left her behind. It is these downtimes between jobs that he allows his mind to wonder, whether or not he made a difference, if life is truly better now than before.
A large hairy hand pats Logan on the shoulder, shaking him out of his memories.
“Hey, Logan, we’re putting up another strike team to go back to Kosovo, need some urban warfare expertise, you in?” The man looked familiar, but he couldn’t put a name to the face.
“Maybe next time, got a few potential jobs that's closer to home, suppose to pay well.” Logan nods at the man. The man grins and pats him again on the back and says something, but Logan's already stopped paying attention.
A brunette enters the bar, dark glasses covering her eyes; a short pixie cut frames her face. She smells upper class with an undertone of something that digs at his memories. It is obvious the way she moves that she is blind. Logan keeps an eye on her as she slowly makes her way towards him.
“Mister Howlett?” Her voice wavers, fear and anxiety wafts from her, but underneath he picks up a familiar scent.
“Just Logan,” His voice sounds rougher than usual, as he turns to face her. She physically shrinks back from him, before straightening herself out.
“I-I am Irene Adler, we spoke on the phone.” She flinches when he grabs her arm, but lets him guide her to a stool. He is definitely not imagining the scent, it’s faint but it’s there.
“What can I do ya for?” Logan sees her tense and clutches the bar. She leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “I am in need of a security expert.”
“How much ya paying?” She pulls a envelope out of her purse and slides it to Logan. Not giving the envelop a glance, he concentrates on the scent, even if there is no possibility of them being together, he would like to see her at least once. “Make it cash and you got a deal.”
Logan stares out the window of his taxi cab, as the verdant Mississippi countryside zooms by his window. It's over sixty years since he arrived in the past; the future he left Marie behind in is gone. He meets Charles, Erik, and Raven, even worked with them briefly, and it was good work, saving lives, helping people. But he is a soldier, he didn't belong there, he belongs on the battlefield.
He wandered away from the school and the X-Men and sank back into old habits, killing. It’s what he was best at. During his brief respites, he had been tempted several times to scour the Mississippi for Marie. But each time he held back, not sure if he could handle the truth, Marie might not even exist in this world. Yet now he was here, Marie’s home state, on his way to met her.
It irks him how nervous he is right now, like a teenager on prom night, as the saying goes. Not that he's ever been to prom, his rite of passage was far different from normal, one soaked in blood. His mind returns to Marie, her parents are different this time, Irene Adler is a powerful, well-known politician, rich too if she can drop a quarter of a million like spare change. Her life definitely sounds better off, he resolves to just check out her new life, and if all is well, he will let her live it.
“Are you alright Mr. Howlett?” A surprisingly pleasant voice, from the voluptuous blond woman next to him, draws him away from his musings.
“Yeah, I’m good,” he grunts out while continuing to look out the window.
“You had a very faraway look just now,” Emma remarked, obviously looking to start a conversation.
“Just thinkin,” he definitely isn't interested in a conversation right now, too many things to sort through before he meets Marie again.
“We’ve met before, though you might not remember-” Emma seems oblivious to his hints.
“I remember, you're that scrawny blond girl I rescued from that lab in Massachusetts,” Logan interrupted her, then regrets the outburst, just a bit. He still remembers her strapped to a gurney in an isolation room. When he first saw her lying there, he almost mistook her for Marie, who was strapped like that for years under the mansion.
“You still smell the same, despite all that artificial scent you spray on yourself.” She tilts her head and looks at him in surprise, and he finally meets her eyes and smirks at her.
She smiles flirtatiously at his remark, “So I am still just a scrawny, foul smelling little girl you rescued from the labs?”
“Never said you smelled bad and obviously not little anymore,” Logan remarks offhandedly.
“I never got the chance to say thank you.” With eyes downcast, Emma fiddles with her fingers, clearly not used to showing sincere gratitude.
“Don’t mention it, glad to see you doing well.” Out of habit, Logan ruffles her hair. She gives him an angry glare and an indignant gasp; she reaches her hand up to fix her stylish bangs. By the tinge of red on her cheeks and her happy scent, she is obviously not too angry at him.
The taxi pulls up the gate of a lush country villa. Logan pauses at the site of the home, its tall angular roof, lancet windows and towering red brick chimney brought stirrings of nostalgia within him. A brown haired woman with dark sunglasses sits prim and proper on the bench, her hand resting on a cane. Upon hearing Logan’s footsteps, she rises out of the chair and calls out nervously.
“Is that you? Mr. Howlett?” On her home turf, Irene is every bit a lady, but her fashion is slightly off for a southern belle, and she has no accent. And that scent is so strong here, but Logan can’t help but take a deeper breath, and his nose fills with the scent of Marie.
“Just Logan.”
He takes the time to examine her; she wore a pink sundress, properly tailored. Dark sunglasses cover her eyes, and her short brown hair is held in place by several silver hairpins. Logan walks up the steps to greet her. One of her hands reaches out and grabs him by the arm, she smiles.
“I'm so glad you made it, was all my arrangement satisfactory?” She lets him lead her back to her seat.
“Yeah, real classy. Never flew first class before.”
“Good to hear. Things have been getting real tense here. I’m sure my normal security detail can keep me safe but my daughter is another matter.” Her fingers taps nervously on her cane as she speaks.
“Yer daughter-” A very familiar voice breaks his train of thought, Logan suppresses the urge to sweep her into his arms, she looks so much like his Marie, even if she is not exactly his Marie, even if she has a life without him, just looking at the expression on her face, Logan felt everything he gave up is worth it.
Marie had been busy getting ready for her birthday when she heard the car pull up to their house. That must be the person her mother was waiting for, she thought to herself. Increasing her pace, she rushes to finish her task.
She had been dying of curiosity when she first heard that her mother had hired a bodyguard for her. Some general had recommended him to her mother, said they were an old acquaintance of sorts. Considering that her mother hired him to protect her around the clock, he must have been a close acquaintance. Making sure everything is in its place one last time, she almost runs downstairs in her excitement.
She steps into the entry hall of her home and catches a glimpse of the mystery man from the window. His stance is relaxed, seeming totally at ease as he stands near the porch conversing with her mother, his deep baritone voice can be heard even through their thick oak door.
Marie would recognize that voice anywhere and she resists the urge to dash out there and jump into his arms, reminding herself that her Logan doesn't yet exist in this world
“Momma?” She opens the front door and steps out like a proper lady. Time seems to slow down as Marie meets a pair of hazel eyes with her own. Her heart skips a beat when she finds his pupils darken, focusing on her completely, sweeping over her body, taking her in.
He is taller than she expected, towering above both her and her mother. His dark features belie the gentleness in his eyes. Outlines of taut muscles can be seen on his large, leather-jacketed frame, a pair of old dark jeans hung low on his hips, tightly covering his long muscular legs. Black leather work boots and a large silver buckle round out his outfit, he is exactly as she always imagined he would be, images pulled from memories not quite her own.
“Marie?” His voice was barely a whisper, a whisper Marie is not certain if she heard it at all. Still, a tingle shoots down her spine, only he has ever said her name like that before. Trying her best to compose herself, and slow her pounding heart, she turns on her southern charm, unleashing her brightest smile, and her warmest greeting.
“Hi, I’m Marie. I’m very pleased to meet you.” Gracefully dipping her legs and drawing out her new bright green sundress in a curtsy, eyes flickering back to his face just in time to see a ghost of a smile.
“Marie, a proper lady waits to be introduced.” Her mother chides her, a frown marring her face. Marie pretends to be shocked by her own forwardness. She lowers her gaze, a light blush suffusing her cheeks.
“Mr. Howlett, I'd like you to meet my daughter Marie, Marie this is Mr. Howlett. He has graciously agreed to accompany us as a bodyguard.” Marie was lost in her own mind, memories of Logan flashing before her, his sensual chuckle, his large warm hands, the way he quirks his eyebrow. Marie knows everything about this man, she also knows nothing of this man.
His voice, rumbling like distant thunder, waking her from her daydream, Marie meets his eyes with her own.
“Logan’s fine, how are ya kid?” His smile washes over her, and she feels a warm glow spread throughout her. But no matter how flustered she is, her southern manners, drilled in repeatedly since early childhood, always shine through.
“Then please, call me Marie. Logan.” Smiling delightedly at the twinkle in his eyes at her response, Marie is happy that this Logan is so much like her own.
“Marie, manners!” Irene sighs in exasperation and starts walking into the house. “Please come in Mr. Howlett. You must be tired; I’ll have someone show you to your room.”
“Best behavior, Marie,” Irene whispers as she walks by Marie on her way to the living room. Even though she know a lecture on propriety is coming soon, for some reason, Marie couldn’t help but feel excited in this man’s presence.
The mansion is huge, over thirty rooms in all, plus the servant's quarters. The floor layout was familiar, similar to the house he grew up in, and just like his childhood home, about half a dozen people lived here, in a place fit for at least thirty, a rather lonely place.
The security situation is beyond lax by Logan’s standards, but he is quick to remind himself that this is not a war zone, the security team here is used to the occasional stalker or protester, not defending against an infantry assault. Not to mention that he is only responsible for one person this time, Marie. His contract was very specific if anything was to happen, Marie’s safety is to be prioritized above all else, even Irene herself.
So Logan finds himself in the main hall, watching as throngs of guests parade pass him in their finest clothing and accessories. A veritable who’s who of Mississippi’s rich and famous is gathered here, Logan marvels at the sheer undertaking in the preparation of a birthday party for Marie, the difference in social status alone between them seems insurmountable.
Marie enters the foyer looking absolutely stunning. The entire ballroom turns toward her, she is dressed in a semi-translucent, straight light green gown with silver flower embroidery. Taking all of her in, Logan couldn't help but swallow reflexively, the gown is modestly cut, just over the swell of her breast, dipping low to her hip in the back, tight around the waist, and left the shoulders bare. The bodice is accented with gold lace along the neckline and the back. She wore matching silk gloves up to the elbow, and wrapped around her shoulders is a lace stole with water lilies and magnolias embroidered in exquisite detail. She walks by giving him a shy smile, and a sparkle caught his eye, just under her auburn curls a jewel studded tiara peaks out.
Fighting back an urge to growl, Logan watches as some teenaged jock takes her hand and leads her away. Hoping to calm himself, he returns to his rounds, lighting his cigar, hoping, wishing the bitter smoke would remove the scent lingering in the air. Two full circles around the mansion later, Logan finally returns to the ballroom, he does his best to maintain a constant vigil on the entire room. A slip of a girl on the cusp of woman, swaying to the music, always draws his eyes.
Logan wonders, each time his eyes find their way back to Marie, if this is how it is going to be for them from here on, Marie, beautiful, radiant, smiling, in the center, surround by her friends, family and loved ones; While he lurks at the edge in the shadows, unwilling to disturb her happiness, but also unable to stay away.
With a hesitant grasp on her hand, Cody led Marie through the multitude of well-wishers. Marie could recall many of them from memory, she’s met most of them at fundraisers, and Marie has no doubt that this party is also serving that function. She is led past Emma, surrounded by a horde of young men, many personal assistants like her, several are famous and powerful, the governor's son Jake included. Marie flashes Emma a grateful smile, if anyone can keep that creep occupied it was Emma, Marie really did not need “wandering hands” anywhere near her today. The pervert didn’t take no for an answer, and because his father is governor he tends to get away with it.
A few years ago, back when she thought Logan was just a fantasy, Cody had seemed so attractive, so mature. Marie still feels guilt for hurting him, even if it was another lifetime ago, so when he approached her in school, and to her surprise was cleared by her mother’s security team, she agreed to be his girlfriend. It was easy to fall into that happy life, in Mississippi, with a loving family, a good boyfriend, and a few close friends.
Then Logan appears and knocks her right back to reality, suddenly her personal problems seem small now when compared to the struggle of mutants, the inevitable appearance of her curse, oh and the sheer intensity of her feelings towards him. He looks incredible especially tonight; she’s never seen him dressed up before.
When she first entered the room, no one else existed in that moment. It was just her in her ball gown dressed to the nines, and him standing there, in a classical style three piece suit, silver trimmed, black dinner jacket, with peaked lapels. His hands fingering his shirt pocket, the obvious location of his cigars. A silk, light gray vest, and tie over a pressed white silk dress shirt. Matching black slacks and polished leather boots rounded out his outfit and Marie bit back a chuckle, only Logan would come to a black tie event in boots.
She barely remembers who’s hand still held hers, Marie’s thought are completely on Logan, for whatever reason, he pulled a disappearing act soon after she arrived in the ballroom. She was looking forward to a dance with him, as the birthday girl, it was only proper that he ask her, and wish her a sweet sixteen.
After cycling through many well-wishers, Marie finds herself in a slow dance partnered with Cody. She can’t help but feel something is wrong, someone else should be here with her, then she spots him leaning against the wall. There Logan stands in the corner of the ballroom, neatly trimmed mutton chops that contrast with his dark wild hair, his eyes focused and alert, sweeping the entirety of the room regularly, looking every part of the professional bodyguard.
Marie notices, though, how Logan’s eyes always return to her after he makes a check of the room, tracing her every step, following her every action. He must, of course, he is her bodyguard, but she can pretend, pretend those warm hazel eyes look at her because he wants to because he finds her attractive because she is important to him. And for a fleeting moment, she is no longer pretending, because her smile is just for him.
Suddenly Marie senses a shadow looming over her, she snaps out of her fantasy long enough to see Cody leaning in, eyes half lidded. Before she can react, his hands slide up her arms, onto her bare shoulders; she feels something inside her snap, and a very familiar tingle spreads through her body. The first hints of Cody seeping into her, Marie tries her hardest to push him away, but he holds firm. Foreign thoughts begin to push into her mind, and Marie braced herself for this intrusion. Her eyes focus on a blur that suddenly appears between them, she immediately recognizes Logan’s arm that is now around her waist, a large warm hand splay over her stomach, finally she realizes Cody is sprawled on the floor.
“W-What happened?” Cody rubs the back of his head, looking about confused.
“Got a bit too excited?” Logan is clearly amused as he reaches down towards Cody, picking him up as if he is just a child, and stands him next to Marie. “I heard you took a solid hit during practice, could be a concussion.”
“Umm...yes, thank you.” Still, in a bit of a daze, Cody takes Marie’s hand again, leading her towards the refreshment tables. Marie steals a quick glance at Logan’s retreating figure before her thoughts return to her newly manifested powers. The power is still weak, she has memories of it, mere seconds of contact can put a normal human into a coma, the fact Cody just got a bit dizzy means she has a few precious moments of normalcy remaining and she intends to relish it.
After making sure Cody is comfortably seated, Marie returns to the dance floor, determined to face the end of her normal life on her own terms.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
A lot of perspective switches in this chapter between Logan and Marie, hope is not too confusing.
Chapter End Notes:
Up next, Irene and Marie discusses what happened