Logan stumbled, hanging on to the gravestone, boots sinking ankle deep in the snow. The only thing right about that conversation had been the whiskey. Mind control. Syringes. His Rogue. Kissing Bobby... Her boyfriend. And Logan, helpless to do anything about it. Again. Son of a bitch.
He still hadn't seen her. She had to know there was something wrong with that. She'd know that he'd been up and walking for hours. Or making a sorry attempt at it, at this point. There weren't many secrets in the mansion. Stupid telepaths. But he had whiskey. He expected the whiskey to sting. But the deception, the betrayal… Logan had thought that Xavier had been one of the best people he'd ever known...
But he didn't really care about that right at this moment. Because whiskey made things better. Or made problems blurrier... Bobby. Bobby's hand waaay too low… Logan grew claws.
"Does it hurt?"
His unsteady legs finally gave way to his weight in his drunken stupor and his massive body slid down the cold marble. He laughed hoarsely and bitterly. The stars shone brightly above him, illuminating the fleecey snow. His breath came out in little puffs.
"Everytime." he took another swig, retracting his claws and ran his fingers over the space between his knuckles where they'd been, brow drawn in a frown. What had he been thinking? That someone like her could ever want someone like him. Because he was such a catch. What with all the killing, cage fights, and tendency to find strange women in his bed. And don't forget, his substitute teaching abilities. Who could say no to that? He rolled unsteadily to his hands and knees, turning to face the name written there in elegant script, gently running his fingers along where it was etched in stone.
"You were never really here, were you? But this is exactly where I belong..."his voice was gruff, eyes shining in the night. "I wasn't worth it, Marie. Why'd you do it?" he murmured.
"Does it help?"
Logan jumped, spinning around, snow fanning out around him. Wobbly, his reflexes slow with liquor. There she was. And she looked more delicate and ethereal than ever, unreal in the dim light.
"The whiskey? Does it keep you warm?"
She plopped down next to him, back covering the carving of the angel that was engraved there, wings spreading wide on either side of her. She rested her head back against the stone and drew her legs to her chest. Completely unafraid of accidentally brushing against him with the soft ivory of her shoulders, that were begging him to...
She tilted her head, silken waves spilling over the bare flesh and grabbed the whiskey bottle out of his stunned grip, the mischievous sparkle in her eyes daring him to stop her. He just quirked an inquisitive brow, and watched. She put it to the soft color of her damp lips, took a pull and made a face, coughing a little, and offered it back to him. Some angel.
He blinked, gaining a little snap.
"It doesn't hurt. Here." he started to shrug out of his leather jacket and wrap it around her. Contrary to what he knew to be true, she felt so fragile next to him.
"Nah, thanks. It's ok. It's not everyday a girl like me get's to show a little skin. Besides, I like the cold."
He inclined his head ever so slightly.
"So I noticed." he said smoothly, stretching his long legs out leisurely in front of him, carefully aloof.
She flushed but remained silent.
"So, I guess Bobby was happy to see you, huh?"
She looked away quickly. The lines of concentration deepening along her brows and under her eyes. The tensing of her jaw betraying her frustration.
"Ya…" she spoke softly. She took back the whiskey, held it front of her, arms resting on her bent knees and studied it. "I'm sorry about… Ya, know." she trailed off and took another slug, this time like a trooper.
Logan went utterly still. Was she talking about…? He waited, deceptively calm. "I guess one of these days you'll have to quit saving my life before it kills ya." she said, a cold edge of irony to her voice. Logan took a deep breath, adjusted his smile, forcing himself to relax. He took back his whiskey. Or the Professor's whiskey he should say. Serves him right…
"You save mine…"
"I save yours." The beginnings of a smile tipped the corners of her mouth.
"Promise?" he nudged her with a wolfish grin.
"Yeah, I promise."
Her eyes froze on his lips. The familiar exchange of words hanging between them. Logan’s drifted, down to where the lace at her throat parted, the hollow of her neck filled with soft shadows. Her firm, high perched breasts looked warm and shapely above her low cut bodice. His heart rate sped up as his eyes locked on hers, getting lost in those deep dark mysterious pools...
A light went on across the courtyard in the distance. He wasn't sure which one of them broke away first.
"Let's get you inside. Before you freeze to death and this becomes your permanent address." he joked standing up and brushing the snow off his ass with one hand. He held out his other to her. She wore An intense but secret expression and paused. She reached up and placed hers in his own, gloves finally off. He slung his arm her, pulling her against his side for warmth, at least that’s what he told himself, dwarfing her.
"You need me to carry you, sugar?" the teasing laughter was back in her eyes.
His answering laugh was deep and rumbled like thunder.
"Now, that's somethin' I'd pay to see."
"Ya didn't hear? I've got super strength strength now. And… I can fly." she mused smugly. Logan stopped dead in his tracks, he eyed her with a calculating expression.
"How do ya thank we got here, darlin’? Magic?"
Logan swallowed around the lump that was suddenly in his throat.
"Huh." was all he managed, the Professor's warning echoing in his head. He shook the thought off. No. She was still his Marie. Just 2.0. That was all. She wasn't dangerous. Well, ya know, anymore than usual.
"You didn't drop me, did you…"
"Well you are heavier than the average person. But even if I did, you have the hardest head on the planet, Logan.” he shoved her away playfully as they headed into the warmth of the mansion, together.
“What? You heal..."