Chapter 3: Storage
“Storage” “ Hay River, 2036, Revised Timeline
You have to make sure she’s got a box cutter.
A box cutter?
Yeah.
Baby…come on now.
I’m serious. She’s gonna hafta break down all those boxes after she gets there.
Logan, she’s got claws. A box cutter is probably the last thing on her mind.
That’s what I’m sayin’. Make sure she has one. Think she’s gonna wanna unsheath those to her college roommate? Great first impression.
Logan could practically feel Marie purse her lips, the jolt of discomfort radiating through her mind.
She’s got nothing to hide.
I ain’t saying she needs to hide. I’m talkin’ first impressions. You don’t lead with the claws. I’ve taught her that much at least.
Logan didn’t have to see Marie to know she was rolling her eyes. It wasn’t that hard anymore, really, to pick up on all the nonverbal expressions Marie made without actually seeing the woman do it. The landscape of Marie’s mind was a familiar thing now, and it was like readin’ a book, sometimes the words so bright they might as well be lit up in neon, and right now every thought, every synapse, was currently alit with incredulity.
Plus a few other things.
Anxiety. Dread. Restlessness.
And he couldn’t say he was much better off.
Logan could feel Marie sigh as she set down another heavy box of Laura’s books. The summer heat was baking the loft, and even though Marie had opened the windows, there wasn’t enough of a breeze to keep things comfortable. Logan could sense the sweat on Marie’s forehead as she wiped her brow. He could smell the fecund scent of late summer from the open window sharply punctuated with the tang of permanent marker and packing materials. Could see the dust as it danced in the shafts of late afternoon light. Could even feel the ghostly pricking of pain as Marie bit her lip in worry along with the adhesive on the packing tape as Marie stretched out a long strip of it, firmly taping the box shut.
Better tape up the sides too.
Frustration rattled him, as the spaces that surrounded him in her mind precariously shifted back and forth.
No need to get testy, he thought bitterly.
Marie set down the packing tape grumpily and shoving the fresh box in the corner with the other four.
Could you just shut up for a while? You’re not helping.
Logan stopped for a moment, letting her be. He understood what she did. They’d both been dreading the hell out of this week, and it was finally upon them. Laura was leaving, and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing to do but watch it happen.
Marie exhaled tiredly, turning to sit on the box she had just finished packing.
Good idea. Take a break kid.
“I take it back. Everything I’ve ever said about books. I hate them. Especially when they’re this heavy. Why can’t Laura just get an e-reader like everyone else?”
“Because an e-reader doesn’t smell the same,” came Laura’s voice from the door. Rogue looked up, and Logan was greeted with an image of his daughter. She was leaning against the door frame, adorned in muddy boots and jeans ripped at the knee. She smiled slightly at Marie, but then her lips turned downward upon seeing the four bulky boxes of books that remained in her now mostly-empty bedroom.
“I don’t think I can fit any more in the Volvo. We might have to ship the rest,” Laura said, looking at the box currently labeled 19th Century British Literature. A Couple Russians Thrown In There Too.
“You ok?” she asked, walking slowly over to wear Marie sat, taking a seat on her own box.
“Just taking a breather. Logan’s healing factor isn’t helping for shit today,” Marie said. From inside Marie’s mind Logan chuckled.
You still needta sleep and eat, darlin’. You’ve been doing too few of both the last few days.
Laura smiled at Marie’s joke, and Logan savored it. Things had been busier than a typical summer at the lake house. Laura was attending McGill University in Montreal this fall, and orientation week was well on its way. The plan would be that Rogue would drive Laura and her things out east, and they’d make a road trip of it. But then Marie would only have Logan for company on the way home, and there would be thousands of miles between mother and daughter for the next several months.
Anxiety. Fear. Worry.
Hell. That last one was strong. Marie was so fucking worried. Worried of Laura being out there all on her own. Worried about coming back without her. Worried about what life would be like in a house that was now mostly empty. That last one had been a recent project of Logan’s. He had plans to keep Marie busy, suggesting anything to get her out of the house. He got the sense Laura was worried about this last bit too.
Logan inwardly sighed, and tried his best to stretch out his consciousness, blanketing Marie for a moment in a rush of warmth.
Thanks sugar, she mentally whispered to him.
No problem, kid.
“It’s gonna be ok,” Laura was saying to Marie.
“I know,” Marie murmured. Laura smiled softly at her, before noticing the last few dusty books on the shelf. She idly picked up a tattered copy of Travels with Charley.
“I guess I don’t need to take all of them,” she said, fiddling with one of the edges.
Tell her she does, Logan interjected.
“Logan says you do,” Marie said, taking the book from Laura’s hands and gently running a thumb over the cover. Laura looked up at Marie, that look she always had in her eye when Marie was communicating something Logan wanted to say to Laura. Half doubt, and half unbelievable, incredible yearning.
“Why?” Laura said, blinking at Marie and they both knew who she was really trying to look at.
Tell her it’s a part of who she is. Just as important as the martial arts and fightin’. It’s that other part. I like readin’ alright, but I’m pretty sure her love of books is that other side. You know. Her mother.
“He says it’s important, because it’s a part of that other side of you. The one you got from your mother,” Marie said softly. Laura frowned a little, before glancing to the ground.
“ You’re my mother,” she said.
Love. Pride.
“You know what I mean,” Rogue said through a tired smile, handing the book back to Laura. Laura stared down at it for a moment with a slight grimace.
“Also, you’re a literature major. Important to have that source material on hand,” Marie said, and Logan could practically feel her wink. Laura snorted a little at this, putting the book back on the shelf.
“Not sure Travels with Charley gets discussed much as part of the canon…” she said tiredly, before standing up, stretching her lithe, thin body in the steadily fading light of the bedroom. It was getting late, and even though Marie and Laura planned to leave for Montreal in the morning, Logan knew Laura had plans to go out with friends, say the last of her goodbyes.
“You still ok with me going out tonight?” she asked.
Regret.
“Sure,” Marie lied, tiredly standing herself. “The plan still burgers with Cole?”
“Yup,” Laura said. “Might go by Mia’s house too and say goodbye.”
I didn’t know those two were still on speakin’ terms, Logan inwardly murmured to Marie. Marie had only cocked a brow, throwing a knowing smile at Laura.
“ Don’t give me that look. It’s just goodbye. I’m not sure I’ll ever see her again,” Laura mumbled.
“What? You planning on not coming back for Christmas?” Marie teased. Laura only smiled, scuffing a boot and staring down at the floor.
“Alright. I’ll get out of your hair. Get ready. I’ll be in the kitchen, finishing up the rest of the food.”
--
A half-hour later, Logan could hear the Volvo drive off, Laura now gone to say her goodbyes. Marie had walked over to the window to watch her go, and she was currently clutching a dishcloth to her chest tightly.
I know I’m being selfish by hating the fact she’s going out tonight, but I don’t care. I don’t like sharing her. I want as much time with her as possible.
It’s ok to feel like that, darlin’.
Why is this so hard?
Logan chuckled, before mentally sighing.
You two have been a pair for a long while now. Gonna hafta figure out what life looks like without her here all the time. Logan could see Marie’s reflection in the window and the frown that graced her features, before she moved away from the window and back into the kitchen, tossing the dishcloth onto the island as she did so.
Exhaustion.
Why don’t you lie down, kid? Logan carefully suggested, but he could feel Marie shake her head.
Can’t. Need to pack up more food for her. Somehow cram that into the volvo, Marie protested.
Laura ain’t gonna starve, darlin’.
Worry.
She’s just like you. She can go days without eating. Unless someone reminds her to eat. Her roommate won't do that for her. God... I hope that person isn’t awful. The last thing I want is for Laura to have to share a dorm with some bigoted asshole, Marie grumbled.
An eighteen year old girl a grizzled, bigoted asshole? I doubt it, Logan said.
What if she had bigoted asshole parents? What if she’s a religious fanatic? Laura’s gay and a mutant. Those are some pretty big reasons for some ignorant person to hate her.
Worry.
Laura can take care of herself, Logan muttered.
I know she can. But I don’t want her to have to all the time. I just want her to have a fucking break.
Worry. Worry. Worry.
Kid. Gotta calm down. It’s rough waters in here, Logan warned.
Ugh, sorry. I just…. She persisted.
I know, baby, he tried to cut her off.
But-
Marie? Breathe. Finally, he could feel the steady rise and fall of Marie’s chest as she gripped the side of the kitchen island momentarily.
Lie down, Logan demanded.
But-
Don’t make me do it for you, he threatened.
...you wouldn't, Marie thought accusingly.
Yer right. I wouldn't. Because yer gonna do it yourself.
Marie bit her lip for a moment, before sighing and turning around to their bedroom. It was cooler downstairs than it had been in the loft, but the heat was still immense and thick. She plopped down on top of the blankets in the dark on the left side of the bed. The side she still slept on. The side she would always sleep on.
For a minute, no one spoke, and he let Marie simply breathe and stare up at the ceiling fan. Her body was tired and heavy, and he could feel the exhaustion press itself into the corners of even his spot inside her mind.
Now, listen to me, he mumbled.
I thought you wanted me to sleep? You know I can’t sleep when you’re jabbering on and on.
No. Not sleep. Now I want ya to listen.
Ok.
We ain’t losing her, kid.
Marie outwardly sighed, putting a hand to her forehead tiredly.
I know that.
Do ya? Because everything inside your mind right now is flashing bright and hot that you think you are.
I hate that you can read my thoughts, Marie pouted.
Quit yer whining and keep listening. We ain’t losing her. She just grew up.
Marie bit her lip a little, before exhaling.
I don’t want to think about it anymore. I want to think about something else. Tell me something good. Something different.
Logan hesitated, before a wild hair struck him.
You know what I was thinking of the other day? And god knows why I remembered it. But I was thinking of that time right after the jump, when I clocked Bobby.
At this, Marie audibly snorted.
I thought you were gonna kill me, you were so mad afterward, Logan added through a laugh.
It was so fucking juvenile, Marie grumbled.
He had it coming. He wouldn’t shut up about you. Going on and on about how fragile you were...about how I didn’t know ya.
Well he was right about that. You didn’t, she retorted.
Sure I did.
Uh uh. You didn’t. Not until Alabama. All we were doing back then was fucking, she said.
Logan growled in appreciation at that thought.
Yeah we were. Remember that time I had ya up on the table? Yer legs straddling me, back against the wall….
Logan… Marie protested from within her mind.
Shut up woman. Let me talk. Those fingernails of yours diggin’ into my skin. Thighs all glazed with the lovemakin’ from the night before.
Arousal. Hell, that had to be a new record. He was already turning her on. He could read it in every thought, feel her brain light up with it. He was gettin’ pretty good at this stuff. The talkin’ stuff. It was the closest thing they could get to sex, and Logan took full advantage of it. Often.
What I’d do to get ya back there, bend ya over that table and take ya from behind.
“Logan,” she desperately whispered out loud to the darkened bedroom. Her breath was already coming in heavier, a hand running down her stomach, sinking lower.
That’s it baby. Touch yerself. Forget the rest.
“Jesus,” she muttered, fingers snaking under the seam of her jeans.
What I’d give to rut into ya hard and deep. Run my tongue up the length of your back, bite that pretty little neck of yours.
Her breath coming in heavier. The smell of her own sex on the air. Hell. What he’d give to truly, really be able to fuck her.
Longing.
That’s it, baby. Now...do exactly as I say.
She moaned slightly. He knew she liked this, when he told her what to do.
Put two fingers deep inside you. Hold ‘em there. Don’t you dare move them. She moaned as she did so, and the chorus of thoughts inside Marie’s mind sung hot and bright.
“I...I need-” she moaned to the empty bedroom, thrusting her hips upward. She wanted more. She wanted friction. Movement. Something.
Not yet.
“ Logan ….” The sound of his name again desperately escaped her lips, cutting through the dark.
Shush, woman. Do what I say. With the other hand, pinch yer nipple. Hard. Until it hurts. I want your back archin’ with it.
A shaky hand traveling over the soft skin of her breast but under the white of the t-shirt obeyed him, and he watched another coil of pleasure unfurl within her.
Harder. Play with it for a bit. Don’t stop.
She moaned, but did as he said.
Now move those fingers. Take ‘em out, and shove ‘em back in.
“Oh lord. Oh god, ..” she murmured.
God ain’t gonna help ya right now.
“Fuck. You,” she breathed in the dark.
Harder, kid. Like I would do it. In fact, while yer at it, add a third.
She quickened her pace, and Logan mentally bore down, filling her brain as much as he could with the feeling of his essence.
Now… thumb on your clit. Put pressure there too.
“God! Fuck!” she cried as her fingers obeyed. She was turning over onto her stomach, hand still down her pants, face in the pillow.
Just feel it Marie. Feel that wave building? Jesus fucking christ. I’d be slamming into ya so hard if I could. Wouldn’t let ya come up for air. Would wanna break ya.
Warmth. Pressure.
Waves danced before him. It wasn’t his pleasure, didn’t feel it that way. But he could read hers, could feel how it affected her, and that was more than fucking enough.
I want you so bad, she thought.
I know darlin’, but I’m right here.
Logan…
Do it baby. Let go.
There was a sharp crescendo, and she was moaning his name again, as it became too much, synapses firing in quick succession as she came undone before him.
Release.
He watched as she rode out her orgasm, gasping for erratic breath as she came hard from his words. There was a sheen of sweat on her body, and her mind lazily floated with the after effects of the pleasure.
“Fuck,” she finally said after a while in the dark, and he couldn’t help the warm, deep laughter that echoed in her mind.
Like I said. Breathe, Marie.
Screw you, she grumbled.
If only, darlin’, Logan murmured back to her, and he could feel the frown form on her face.
Grief. Regret.
Sorry, babe. Didn’t mean to make ya sad, he muttered.
It’s...it’s ok, she said, shakily moving to sit up in the dark. God. I do feel better. How do you always get it right?
Heh. Darlin’. I’m fucking stuck inside your mind. I know ya pretty well by now.
Marie sighed, moving to press her bare feet against the cool floorboards. For a while, no one spoke as Marie stared ahead at the kitchen light flooding in through the still-open door of the bedroom.
I miss her already, and she hasn’t even left yet, Marie thought sadly.
It’ll be alright.
I know.
Wanna pack up the rest of that food for Laura? I’ll entertain ya while you do it.
Marie laughed for a moment, stretching a bit as she stood.
As long as you don’t tell me any more jokes, sugar. Your jokes are the worst.
Heh. That right?
They’re all raunchy and tasteless, she said in mild disgust as she made her way into the kitchen.
Those are the best kind, darlin’.
Marie rolled her eyes, but didn’t respond.
--
Laura arrived back to the lake house right before curfew. Two minutes before midnight.
Marie had spent the greater part of the night packing her own things for the long trip, shoving more shit into the trunk of the Volvo. Logan and Marie had gotten into another spat about where to put what-- It’s not a fucking game of Tetris!-- but had made up easily enough. Afterward, she had curled up with a book on the couch. Marie reading was one of Logan’s favorite things. They both enjoyed the words, and would often remark to each other about the story as she read. Marie often alternated genres, reading Logan’s favorites along with her own, a kind and loving act he was incredibly grateful for. While Logan could easily enough read the words on the page himself, when Marie read inside her own mind the whole book was dictated in her voice, and it was one of the most intimate and precious gifts this post-life had given him.
They were in the middle of another Marie book, her favorite in fact. Dillard’s Teaching a Stone to Talk. Even so, however, Marie’s eyes had begun to droop at the words. I alternate thinking of the planet as home--dear and familiar stone hearth and garden--and as a hard land of exile in which... we are all sojourners…
Exhaustion.
Marie.
Yeah?
Go to sleep.
Can’t...yet. Laura’s not home.
I’ll wake you up when she gets here. Marie turned over on the couch, the book falling out of her lap as her vision went in and out of focus.
Promise?
Yeah, I promise. Get some sleep darlin’.
Mmmmm. Logan?
Yeah, kid?
I love you.
Heh. I love you too, babe.
Contentment. Safety. Warmth.
He watched as she started to drift. He always did. He listened as her consciousness dulled, becoming quiet in her own mind. He mentally sighed, shrouded as he was now in darkness. If Marie reading was his favorite time with her in this new existence he had come to know, Marie sleeping was his least. For one thing, he missed her. For another, it was when he felt the most trapped. There were no dimensions, no clear way to tell reality from not. It put Logan on edge, and without Marie to talk to, he was often left alone to his own thoughts. He had never been able to figure out how to sleep, didn’t know if that was even possible.
He took up his dutiful post in watching out for her by accessing the senses still available to him. Every night he would do this, occasionally casting out Marie’s hearing to listen out for the most important sounds. Laura’s heartbeat. Her steady breath. Any signs of trouble or danger. There never was, though. There hadn’t been for a very, very long time.
In addition to keeping watch, Logan, with Marie’s permission, had been sorting out the influx of his memories. They were all, at any point, available to him, and they would visualize themselves to him if he called on them to. He had been going through them all, year by year, helping her organize and shelve. They had made it through most of the nineteenth century, but there was still over a hundred fucking years to deal with. Anything useful...tactical strategy, martial arts knowledge, all of it, they kept easily accessible. The more painful memories he tried to tackle while Rogue was sleeping, but he knew she still saw them. She had seen everything.
He was sifting through a particularly nasty set of memories when he’d been hired out on contract with the Italian mafia when he heard the door click. Marie’s eyes were closed, but he could smell Laura instantly. Her own natural scent, but something else too. Not booze, but a bit of lingering cigar smoke. Fuck. Laura had taken up the habit of smoking cigars here and there, and he knew why. He knew why, but he still didn’t like it.
Marie.
Nothing.
Marie, baby. Wake up.
Slowly, her mind lighting up, the woman nestled inside coming out of the depths of sleep.
Wha? Everything alright?
Laura’s home.
Then, vision. Marie was blinking open her eyes, to see Laura, standing there, with a tear-stained face.
“What happened Laura? Are you alright?” she asked, sitting up on her spot on the couch.
“Yeah,” Laura murmured. “Sorry. Just got back from saying goodbye.”
“Cole take it ok?” she asked.
“He put on a brave face,” she muttered, before Laura plopped down next to the older woman, snuggling up against her shoulder while Marie put her arm around her.
“You should probably go to sleep, hija. Got a long day of driving ahead of us,” Marie muttered, as she stroked the back of Laura’s dark, silky hair.
Logan growled contently, liking having both his girls this close. Then though, he noticed Laura’s seeming restlessness, because she was sitting up once more, staring at Marie.
“Mom?” she asked, before nervously biting her lip.
“What babe?” Marie said tiredly, rubbing her eyes and sitting up a little once more.
“Can I... talk to Papá?”
Logan could feel Marie’s body stiffen slightly. Laura had not once, not ever, made this request. If Laura and Logan spoke to each other, it was always with Marie paraphrasing, because the other option was something Logan had never felt comfortable doing. Laura already knew this. And she was asking anyway.
It’s because she’s leaving, Marie whispered to Logan.
I know, Logan said.
Please do this for her, sugar, Marie said.
Baby... Logan half-heartedly protested.
Do it for her. I’m ok with it, Marie insisted. Logan mentally sighed, finally relenting. He couldn’t fight both women, especially on such an emotionally draining day as this one had been. He suspected Laura had it out for him, and he felt himself bracing for the anticipated hit.
Just give me yer voice, kid. Not taking anything else from ya, Logan said stubbornly, but he could already feel her willingly push her consciousness aside, and he suddenly had access to it. It was still distant, as he was dictating thoughts for Rogue’s body to deliver to Laura, but the look on Laura’s face when he spoke told him how disconcerting it must have seemed.
“Got a lot of gall, asking Marie for this, kid,” he muttered.
Laura looked at them both, and then immediately started crying.
Jesus, Logan inwardly murmured.
Oh Laura, Marie sighed.
“I miss you,” Laura said, harshly wiping the tears from her face.
“I know,” he muttered.
“Do you… think I’m doing the right thing? Going to college?” she asked, looking up to them both.
“Yeah. Yeah I do, kid,” Logan said solemnly.
“But you didn’t go,” she said quietly.
“Yer forgetting how old I am, little hija,” he murmured. Laura shook her head through another tear or two, once more wiping her nose on her sleeve.
“I’m not little. Not any more,” she grumbled.
“You are to me,” he said. She frowned slightly at this.
“What if my roommate hates me?”
“Unlikely,” he said.
“What if my roommate hates mutants ?” she asked.
“Her prerogative,” he muttered.
“What if I don’t remember to study?”
“Can’t help you there,” Logan said tiredly, and then, noticing her downtrodden demeanor, decided to do something about it.
“Look, I don’t know much about college. But I do know about you. And you gotta let loose every once in a while. Have a little fun too. If you start restricting yourself, holding back, yer gonna become someone you don’t wanna be. So don’t you dare apologize for being anything but yerself. And you keep up on your martial arts, you hear me? Practice every day. And once a month...leave the city. Get out in nature. Feel the wind on yer face.”
She looked up at him, fresh tears falling.
“Papá?”
“Yeah?”
“I hate that you died,” she barely whispered. “You left .”
“I know, kid,” Logan muttered. And that was all he could say. Because what else was there? It was the truth, pure and simple. In almost every way, he had left. It had been involuntary, that was for fucking sure, but it had still happened. And he hated himself for it.
Quit that sugar, Marie whispered to him. No self-loathing.
“And I’m still mad at you,” Laura finally said, through crossed arms.
“Heh. Well. S’deserved, I’m sure,” he said tiredly. That did it. Slowly, a small smile on her face, even as she clutched her arms more tightly to her chest.
“I love you,” she said, before staring down at the floor.
“Forever, kid,” Logan said simply, and Laura looked up to them both once more, after wiping her eyes.
“Ok. Give Marie her body back,” she said. He chuckled a bit at this, as he released himself from access, retreating back slightly to give Marie full control once more.
“God,” Laura said, shaking her head slightly. “It would help if I didn’t love him so damn much.”
Marie laughed, as Logan grumbled inwardly.
“The story of my life, hija. The story of my life.”
--
Four Weeks Later
The morning was like any other. Logan had noticed Marie had fallen into a pattern of sorts lately since Laura had left, a fairly predictable way of going about things. One of those things was doing the crossword everyday in the local paper. She sat at the kitchen island with it now, a pair of Logan’s old readers perched on her nose, the steam from the mug of coffee coiling upward. Just lately, there had been a new chill to the wind, signaling, once more, that the beloved and short summer that eventually found its way to Hay River was already preparing to leave.
Marie rose early. She did her yoga, then a workout routine involving multiple forms of martial arts. Logan was training her to use her senses more properly, to be sharper, stronger. Marie often grumbled during this time, offering up the fact that a fifty-one-year-old woman shouldn’t have to work nearly this hard, but Logan had little time for that complaint. Ya stopped aging at forty-six and you don’t look a day over thirty-five. So get on with it. Another set of sit ups. I’m timing you this round. Go.
Afterward, a long shower. Sometimes, during moments like these, he would let her be, giving her her space. But if she was feeling frisky, like this morning, well, he took full advantage of it. He had made her come twice in the shower, from mainly just his words alone, a fact he had gloated about for the greater extent of the morning. Marie’s skin was still warm and her hair still damp as she fiddled with the pen in her hand.
“Soviet news agency,” she read aloud. She had been doing that more too, talking to him with her actual voice. He liked it for some reason, maybe because it felt familiar. How things used to be.
TASS, he said, easily offering up the answer.
“Jesus. How do you know all this stuff? You didn’t even ask me how many letters down,” she said, pouting as she filled in the right answer.
I’m staring right at it, kid. And I don’t know ‘em all. Just the history ones.
“‘Georgia state fruit.’ That’s easy. Peach,” Marie said, before biting the pen with her teeth. Logan chuckled a bit at this.
Thought you might’ve forgotten a fact like that, livin’ so far north for so long.
“Once a southerner, always a southerner,” she said, filling in a couple of easy ones as she did so.
“Hmmm...on this side that leaves me with...fuck. 18 Down. Got any ideas on ‘political fugitives’?”
Try “emigres”, Logan muttered.
“Damn,” she said, grinning as she filled in the boxes and it fit. After reading a few more and both of them stumbling on the pop culture questions, she set the paper down frustratingly.
“God. We suck at those. Laura always helped with them,” she said, before picking up her coffee and drinking.
Yeah I know, Logan said quietly.
“You think she’s ok?” she asked, cradling the mug closer to her.
Ya just talked to her last night, darlin’. Seemed fine then.
“Maybe,” Marie said, biting her lip in thought. They knew already that Laura’s roommate was not, indeed, a bigoted asshole, but a shy, bookish girl who Laura probably unintentionally intimidated more than anything else. Laura’s classes had kicked off well, and she had sounded generally positive on the phone. She had already joined a gay rights advocacy group and a writing circle, she was picking up extra money already as a Spanish tutor. It seemed, to Logan at least, she had settled in, maybe even found her niche.
Marie was fine too, as long as she didn’t think about missing Laura all that often. Logan was adamant that Marie didn’t become too wrapped up in her own mind. Laura had always done that for them both, sometimes without any of them realizing it, keeping Marie in the real moments, but now that she was gone, Logan, ironically enough, took it upon himself to see to this duty.
Today though, she had seemed in fairly good spirits, and Logan was surprised to find that it was Marie, not himself, that was now suggesting an outing.
“I’m bored. Mind if I go pay Kay a visit?” she said, setting down the mug and standing.
Wouldn’t mind at all, darlin’, he said. But I’d grab a jacket, kid. That wind’s got that chill in it today.
Marie smirked.
“Seems like since Laura left you’ve got some parental energy you’re trying to work out…”
Yeah, yeah. Whatever, darlin’. Logan was pleased to feel her still smiling, and suddenly felt compelled to add, Marie….
“Yeah, sugar?”
You’re both gonna be alright. The woman paused then, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, just before he felt her blush.
“I think so too,” she finally murmured, smiling once more, before snagging a green coat off the hook and making her way out into the early fall air.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Warning: Spoilers for Fray *and* Twelve*
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