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4397New FF: "On Instinct" by MoJo (L/M) NC-17 2/4

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  • mojober
    Jul 10, 2002
    • 0 Attachment
      Title: "On Instinct" 2/4
      Author: MoJo
      Feedback: MoJoBer@...
      Paring: Logan/Marie
      Summary: "And she had hoped maybe. . .just maybe this time on the
      road, something would happen between them."
      Rating: NC-17.
      Disclaimer in Part One.
      My Web site: www.mojober.com/Fanfiction

      *****

      Logan tried to suppress yet another yawn and Marie sighed.

      He wasn't the only one who was tired. She was, from waiting up all
      night for him to come back. And when he finally did in the early
      morning hours, it was just to tell her it was time to get on the road
      again. She could guess for herself what the 'things' were he had to
      take care of with Jenny.

      Marie found her eyes wandering across the seat and over to Logan as
      he drove them even further into Canada. One hand was gripping the
      wheel and the other was slung casually over it, cigar dangling
      between his rough fingers. She fixed her stare on them, wondering
      how they would feel moving across the soft skin of shoulders, lips or
      inner thighs.

      She'd tried hard in the months of his absence and even harder in the
      months since his return to control her so-called 'gift.' She
      discovered she could touch a little, but at the price of her own life
      in exchange. It was frustrating, exhausting and above all,
      disappointing. Sure, there were ways around it but why bother when
      there were plenty of . . .Jennys out there.

      The memories, his memories, had been filled with women just like
      Jenny. Above him. Below him. Marie knew what he liked and how he
      liked it. Rough and fast. Hard and deep. It made her nervous and
      even a little scared knowing that's what he'd expect, but it didn't
      stop her from wondering what it would be like.

      "What's the matter with you?"

      Marie blinked twice and noticed Logan was looking at her and not the
      road.

      "Nothin'," she dismissed.

      She could feel his eyes stealing glances at her even though she
      herself was focusing on the road. Marie's cheeks grew hot and when
      she sunk down into her cloak, she noticed the space between her legs
      had become damp. She tucked her hands between her knees and pressed
      them together, hoping his heightened senses wouldn't detect
      her. . .arousal. Marie closed her eyes in embarrassment and sunk
      even lower.

      "Keep sliding like that and you're going to end up on the
      floorboards," Logan said, reaching over to tap her arm. "Sit up,
      kid."

      That last word certainly made her sit up. He hadn't called her 'kid'
      in a while. Marie had hoped it was because he no longer thought of
      her that way but judging from how easily it just rolled off his
      tongue, it was obvious he still did. He probably always would.

      "Can we stop?" she heard herself say.

      "What? Here?" Logan asked, looking over at her again. Marie's hands
      were already fumbling with the locks on the door even though they
      were still in motion.

      "Yeah. Just. . .pull over," she said, anxious to get out of the
      truck. She needed air. She needed to walk around. And she needed
      to get away from Logan, if only for a few moments. She tugged the
      handle and released the door. Marie held onto it as Logan slowed
      down and pulled into the parking lot of a diner.

      "Are you okay?" he asked, reaching out to her again. She moved so
      his fingers merely brushed her arm.

      "I'm fine," she said. The second the truck came to a stop, Marie got
      out.

      *****

      Logan could tell Marie was pissed.

      She sat on the stool next to him in the smoky truck stop and picked
      at her food in silence. Now that he thought about it, she really
      hadn't said much to him all day. Women were always pissed at him
      over something and Marie, it seemed, was no exception.

      Logan pushed his own plate aside and rested his elbows on the counter
      to take a few puffs on his cigar. He knew he should say something to
      her; he just couldn't figure out what. Marie was the one who got him
      to talk, not the other way around. She knew him better then he knew
      himself and he was surprised to find he hardly knew her at all.

      Marie wasn't the same scared, wide-eyed girl he'd found hiding in his
      trailer. She'd seen too much, felt too much thanks to that 'gift' of
      hers. The white streaks that framed her pretty face were a constant
      reminder of all she'd been through with Magneto. He was the one
      person Logan couldn't protect her from but he was trying to just the
      same. His life was already fucked up, but it didn't mean hers had to
      be. She was young. She had a chance at being a 'useful member of
      society' or whatever it was Xavier called it.

      Still, he couldn't imagine his life without her.

      Last night with Jenny, he'd been thinking about Marie. It was wrong
      and he knew that, but it didn't stop him from closing his eyes and
      seeing her face below him instead. She already belonged to him in so
      many other ways, it selfish to want that from her, too. He called
      her 'kid' again to try and convince himself she still was, but it
      wasn't working. Marie wasn't a kid anymore. She was just. . .Marie.

      Logan turned to look at her and found she was gone.

      Momentary panic swept through him as he scanned the diner before
      finding her standing over by an old jukebox. He watched as she
      studied the selections, one hip jutted out and coins clinking in her
      in gloved hand. He was just about to head over there and help her
      out when some young trucker beat him to it.

      "Hey," the trucker said as he saddled up to Marie. He leaned against
      the machine, then leaned in toward her. "Save your money. It
      doesn't work."

      "Oh," Marie said, turning her lips down in a pout. Then, they turned
      up in a little smile at the trucker as she put the change back her
      pocket. "Thanks."

      The guy smiled back at her, his eyes moving up and down her body in a
      way Logan didn't like. He knew that look. He knew it too well. He
      stood up, dug in his own pocket for some money and dropped it on the
      counter.

      "What's your name?" the trucker asked, edging even closer to Marie.

      "Rogue," she answered, tucking her hair behind her ear and giving him
      her full attention.

      "If you want to hear some music, Rogue, there's this little bar down
      the. . ."

      "Ready to go?" Logan asked, stepping in between them and staring the
      guy down. Instinctively, he flexed his hand into a fist.

      "Who's this?" the trucker asked, looking around Logan and back to
      Marie.

      "My. . .ride," she answered, sounding even more pissed that before.

      She rolled her eyes as she pushed past Logan, her steps angry as she
      headed for the door. He followed, catching up with her at the
      truck. Logan put his hand on the door just above her head so she
      couldn't open it. He left it there as she turned around, crossed her
      arms and pressed her back against the door.

      "What did I tell you about that?" Logan said, starting in on her. He
      gestured back at the diner. "He could have been anyone. . ."

      "He was just being nice," Marie said defensively.

      "Let me give you a piece of advice. Men are *never* just nice,"
      Logan informed her, then lowered his voice considerably. He didn't
      want to start an argument. He stopped himself, took a deep breath
      and rubbed his fingers across his eyes. "They always want something."

      "So. . .what is it you want?"

      Logan drew his hand away and saw Marie peering up at him, wanting an
      answer. She trembled from the cold night air, wrapping her arms even
      tighter around herself as she waited.

      "Rogue. . ." he sighed, wishing she'd drop it and knowing she
      wouldn't.

      "You must want. . .something from me," she persisted, her voice
      sounding so sweet and trusting. Almost. . .hopeful. She dropped her
      gaze to his mouth, her own lips separating and quivering. She was
      close enough he could feel her breath against his face, warm and
      inviting. For just a moment, he seriously considered taking his
      chances with her mutation and covering that mouth with his.

      "I'm just. . .looking out for you, kid," he whispered instead. Logan
      straightened up, took his hand off the door and stepped back. He
      took a couple more deep breaths, then jammed his cigar back in his
      mouth before opening the door for her. "Just get in. Please?"

      Without a single word, she did.

      *****

      To be continued
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