Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Universe is not
mine. Nothing is mine, except the idea, which is
hardly original enough to make death-threats over. <g>
Falling In Love Again
He watched her sleeping.
He loved doing that, loved the way it made his heart
turn over and tingle with joy. She was beautiful, his
She looked so soft, so delicate, so very frail... but
she wasn't. Tough as old nails and boot leather, as
honey-sweet as the inside of a beehive and just as
lethal. He'd made a special point of training her for
it, knowing that she needed a fallback that didn't
involve using her powers. Scott hadn't liked that.
Scott could kiss his hairy ass.
Okay, can't think stuff like that, you'll wake her up
if you go snickering like that. Even if it was a VERY
funny mental image and one that Marie will appreciate
when you tell her about it.
She'd gotten stronger over the years... strong enough
to juggle tanks, thanks to a slip with her powers that
had left all his shirts soaked with her tears and his
fists aching for something to squash. He hadn't,
though. He'd been ever so calm and collected, he'd
smoothed her hair and given her tissues at regular
intervals, and thanked Ororo nicely when she washed
all the snot off his shirts for him.
Now he risked reaching out to stroke her hair gently,
brushing a snowy curl away from her pretty face. She
looked tired. She'd been through a lot, poor baby
girl, in the last day. She'd struggled, battled the
pain and the fear and he'd been helpless to protect
her, reduced to watching his beloved Marie screaming
and struggling against a pain that she couldn't fight.
But everything was all right now.
She looked pale, resting against the hospital-blue
pillows. Maybe he should get her something? But she
had everything already. He would just sit there and
wait until she woke up. Yes. Quiet as a Wolviemouse,
he thought giddily, aware that stress and lack of
sleep was making him silly.
He sat back carefully, and was just considering taking
a little nap of his own when he heard... a squeak. A
tiny indrawn breath.
"No!" he whispered hastily. "Shh! Go back to sleep!"
The squeak repeated itself, a bit louder. It was
building up to something.
"No!" He hissed desperately. "You can't wake up yet!
I don't know what to do if you wake up!"
The squeak turned into a tremulous indrawn breath,
soft lips drew up into a rictus of misery, a wail was
about to emerge...
With a whispered plea for divine help, Logan leaned
over and scooped the little blue bundle out of its
plastic crib. "Please be quiet," he begged in a near
soundless whisper. "*Please*. Your mom's *tired*."
The baby gazed up at him out of unfocused blue eyes,
apparently entirely distracted from his momentary
misery. As if he, Logan, was the most utterly
fascinating thing that this tiny morsel of humanity
had ever seen.
Logan sighed, and fell devastatingly in love once
He was perfect, from his tiny little fingers... Logan
counted them carefully... to his miniscule toes, all
bundled up in his little tiny yellow booties in case
they got cold. Logan cooed unashamedly, wrapping the
blanket more securely around the little body and
pulling the tiny woolly hat down around little pink
ears. The ears had a teeny bit of fuzz on them. Oh,
furry ears. Nothing, Logan was sure, could ever be so
adorable. And that face... the wide, innocent eyes...
the tiny button nose... soft, pursed pink lips that
parted slightly as the baby gazed up at him...
"Logan?" someone whispered.
"Fwa?" Logan said dazedly, wondering how anyone could
go around talking at a moment like this.
The intruder chuckled softly. "Did he cry?"
"No," Marie whispered back, without opening her eyes,
before Logan could come up with enough words to make a
sentence. "He hiccupped a bit, and Logan's been
making burbling noises ever since."
"Oh. Good." Hank perched on the side of the bed,
smiling fondly at her. "How do *you* feel?"
"Fine." She smiled at him sleepily. "A bit sore, but
I've got this whole warm, tingly thing going on."
"Splendid." His blue eyes slid over to Logan, and
blue, fuzzy arms extended hopefully. "May I?"
"No. Mine." Logan made a growly face, and went back
to gazing adoringly into the baby's eyes.
Hank gave him a reproachful look. "Actually, he's
technically MY child," he pointed out reasonably.
Logan was in no mood for reasonable, but Marie WAS
awake now, so he reluctantly passed the baby over to
his father, and cuddled HIS little girl instead. "He's
beautiful, darlin'," he murmured, kissing her forehead
lightly. He hadn't really been happy when she learned
to control her powers... especially when he'd found
out how she and Hank had celebrated the event... but
they were going to get married, so that was all right,
and he wasn't going to complain about anything that
had provided such an utterly adorable little creature.
"Good," she murmured, smiling and snuggling happily.
"I'm gonna name him after you."
"You are?" Logan basked. "Oh, good."
"And you have to play catch with him and... and do
those guy things," Marie said firmly, if a bit
muzzily. "Because Hank gets caught up in his work
stuff. And you're his grandfather... mostly... so you
have to do it. And spoil him rotten, too."
Logan nodded enthusiastically. "Right. Absolutely.
I'll even take him to the museum and stuff." This was
a great sacrifice - Logan hated the museum with a
fiery and devoted passion - but it was worth it. He
had a *grandson*, mostly, except for the actual
biological part, but that was fine, he was absolutely
okay with that... "Hey, furball. Let Marie hold the
Hank, in turn, reluctantly handed over the tiny scrap
of pinkness that was his firstborn, and then nearly
cried at the utter beauty of Marie holding the baby,
smiling at him with the serene adoration of a mutant
"Hey, Hank... give 'em a minute..." Logan was hauling
him off to one side.
"Of course," he said as patiently as he could,
resigning himself to yet another lecture about What A
Very Lucky Man He Was (as if he hadn't figured *that*
out on his own), and how He'd Better Take Incredibly
Good Care Of Logan's Baby Girl Who Deserved Much
Better. He'd had to put up with a lot of those over
the last nine months. Logan seemed unaware that Marie
was no longer an innocent little girl in need of
fatherly love and protection. And Hank knew that he
was a very lucky man, and he was well aware that Marie
deserved much better, but that didn't mean he was
going to let her get away. Or love her one iota less
than he did.
Logan looked up at the slightly taller man, and the
brown eyes were... good heavens... suspiciously
bright. "You see him?" He jerked his head at Marie
and the baby.
Hank nodded, a bit baffled. "I see him," he said
uncertainly, checking surreptitiously to see if any
claws happened to have popped out.
"Good." Logan gave the baby a fatuously adoring look
of the kind he usually saved for Marie. "I could
handle a few more o' those." He gave Hank a rather
lopsided grin. "And when I say a few, I mean maybe a
dozen or so."
Okay, so it's mush. <g> It's CUTE mush. And Marie
can't end up with Logan ALL the time.
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