FIC: Choices, 18/?, R/NC17, W/R R/G W/f
- DISCLAIMERS REPOSTED IN PART 0
* * *
It was a slow and subtle process. A gradual accumulation of clothes,
toiletries and personal items, accrued over repeated visits.
Maybe it was roughly akin to the manner in which a couple may go from
merely visiting one anothers homes, to gradually leaving more and more
belongings at the others place until finally the decision is made to
just move in together.
Logan wouldnt know. His only real experience of couplehood had been the
sudden jump he and Ciss had taken from fucking each other periodically to
married cohabitation. Before finding himself shackled to the wench, he
had neither allowed her to leave her paraphernalia in his room, nor left
anything of his own in hers.
But the thought must have occurred to him even if only in the nonverbal
subconscious recesses of his mind as soon as Cicely told him to sleep
somewhere else (if not even before then). Because when he selected an
unoccupied bedroom to crash in for the night, not only did he make a
point of raiding a linen closet for sheets and blankets (a strange effort
to make when merely selecting a resting place at three AM, especially for
a man so used to sleeping rough), but he selected the most cramped,
isolated, and undesirable room he could. Not the really nice
accommodations allotted to the adults who chose to remain with the X-Men,
or even one of the comfortable (albeit usually shared) rooms typical for
the students. This was a little cubbyhole of a room inconveniently
crowded into an oddly-shaped architectural null-space, and far from the
more populated parts of the household. Servants quarters, somewhere to
hide the crazy aunt that kind of place.
It was therefore highly unlikely to be assigned to anyone, whether adult
or new student.
Which meant that Logan could quietly take possession of this space
without finding himself abruptly faced with a newly-assigned legitimate
Which meant that public attention would not be drawn to the fact that
Logan had been setting up sleeping quarters for himself that were
separate from those of his wife.
Cicely of course noticed at least that her husbands time sharing her
bed was rarer and rarer. And she could have thrown a fit had there been
another woman (or even a succession of them) to direct her ire at. But
Logan only occasionally went on any bedroom safaris now though
admittedly it made his life easier *not* having to get past his wife when
he did. More often he merely retired to his little bedroom at a decent
hour of the night, and was able to get enough sleep to often be up bright
and early fussing with Max before Cissy awoke. (Staying awake hoping her
husband would return from his late night "TV watching" or whatever the
hell he was doing had been nudging Cissys sleep time back a bit.) And
Cicely had just enough of a sense of perspective to feel that complaining
abut Logan not sleeping next to her was a bit juvenile? Petty?
She had no idea about his separate quarters. If anything, she believed
him to be sacking out on the rec room couch, falling asleep in front of
the TV. She only knew that Logan left their quarters after Max was in bed
(as had become his habit months ago), claiming to be heading down to
watch TV or do engine work or some other damned thing, and was back home
by the time she awoke alone in a bed that showed no signs of having
hosted his presence at any point in the night. There wasnt really
anything she could pin down as a complaint worth fighting about. Aside
from the lack of sex, that was, but she had been letting Logan know her
feelings on the matter for months with no result but increasingly more
Had she known that Logan had, in effect, set himself up with what
amounted to a little bachelor pad right under the same roof as their own
family quarters, she would have had a new complaint well worth fighting
* * *
She Whose Quotations Are Both Exotic and Appropriate
Keeper of his Deadly Startle Reflexes, Guardian and Examiner of the
Adamantium-Revealing X-Rays, and Official Listener for the Occasional
"Associated with the unconquerable power of the sun, the Roman Mithraic
feast of Sol Invictus gave the traditional birth date of Christ, 25
-- "Mithra," _Encyclopedia of World Mythology, Arthur Cotterell ed.
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