FIC: Logan Returns (4/?) [L/R]
- see notes and disclaimers in part 1
...this part rated R for violent imagery
And, thank you so much, everyone who wrote and encouraged me.
::bighugs:: You guys are the best.
...and now, on to part four ::evilgrin::
Well, surprise, surprise, the library just happens to be the red
leather room from my dream. I stood in the doorframe and took a good
look at her sitting in the chair reading, half expecting her to look
up at any moment. The amount of disappointment that set in because
she didn't was the real thing that floored me.
From the moment I woke up from that dream, every minute that has
passed has brought me closer and closer to wanting the kid as more
than just a friend. Not that it's a completely foreign concept,
cause it ain't, but it's more difficult to push aside when
right there for you to look at.
And what a sight. Beautiful, but I think I've said that before.
I'm really beyond caring, cause it's true, she's
beautiful. So I
stand here and I stare like a lovesick puppy, just waiting to be
kicked but never really thinking it's coming.
Until it does.
Without even looking up she tells me that she doesn't want any
company, and would I please leave.
If I didn't know what to say to Xavier earlier when he said she
missed me all the time, I sure as hell didn't have a good
for this one. I think I might have a been in a minor state of shock.
When I finally recover, I realize something odd. It didn't
sound like Marie. I sniff the air, testing it. It's her, even
her scent has changed slightly, the base is still the same. Then I
get it. There was no southern twang. If anything, it was a
midwestern accent, though where she would have gotten that on the
eastern seaboard is beyond me.
This was certainly not the Marie I left. I wondered for a moment if
the blonde had been from the midwest. Whatever her problem, Marvel-
whatever-Xavier-called-her, certainly had attitude to spare, that was
Thankfully, so did I.
"I didn't travel a thousand miles to give Scott his bike
back, I came
to talk to you." There. Complete honesty. I'm good for
years before I have to do that again. "So get your nose outta
book and come give me a hug."
It was like she didn't hear me at first, but then she looked over
way and her eyes widened.
"Logan?" she asked tentatively and I had to smile at that
southern lilt I'd dreamed about. She looked me up and down for a
moment, as if to reassure herself that it was really me.
A brief flicker of disappointment crossed her face before I
read it anymore it was so blank. She went back to her book and told
me to go away again, and to stop fucking with her head. And the
accent was gone.
This really wasn't going well.
I wandered over to the chair across from her and sat down, my legs
sprawling out as I attempted to achieve maximum comfort.
"I thought I told you to leave," came her not entirely steady
"Yea, but I don't want to. It was a long ride. Didn't
"I'm not listening to you."
I listened to her body for a moment and smirked. "Yea, your
not racing, either. Tell me another one, Marie."
Her voice was midwestern steel as she got up and in my face.
"Whoever you are, this is a cruel, sick joke. I'm leaving
if I ever see you again like this as him I will kill you.
pull your arms out from their sockets and twist your legs off at the
knees. Before you die you will see what the inside of your body
really looks like, from the intestines up, and I'll get to see if
your heart beats blood or acid through your brain to make you think
that this would be a wise thing to do. Do I make myself clear,
What the holy hell was that? She'd spun me in some tight circles
here, but I kept it off my face.
"You got some wicked imagery going there, Marie. What the hell
they been teaching you here?" She walked away in silence and I
realized I was losing my chance. I got up and followed
"What do I have to do to make you realize it's me?" That
her, but it didn't turn her around. I got closer, close enough
touch her without really trying.
"Logan wouldn't have to ask."
Well shit. Here I was, Logan and asking.
Then I thought of it. The one true and perfect way for a skeptical
Marie to know it was really me. As I reached my hand out her head
turned slightly, making my job easier. I brushed the back of my
fingers against the determined line of her jaw that went slack with
the contact. For a heartbeat it was just a touch soft, gentle,
maybe even loving then for another heartbeat the pain, not
nearly as bad as I remembered, but enough. More than enough to prove
my point and knock me out in the very same instant.
You loved it.
You're really pissed off at me now.
Either way, you have comments, right?
TeknoVamp@... <-- right there, babe.
...see you tomorrow.