Surfacing
By: The Lady Wolverines…(that means there are two…count 'em TWO…writer's of this story)
Summary: Logan comes home after six years. Marie has moved on…or has she? Complications. READ ON!
Disclaimer: If we were making money from this…we would buy the rights. So obviously…we're not. So don't sue.
Marie's POV:
This morning was like every other morning had been for the past six years. I got up, I showered, I dressed. Yet as I walked out of my room I could almost feel the charge in the air. I could almost taste the anticipation, and I had no idea why. I ran into Jubilee on my way down. She giggled and explained in painfully accurate detail what exactly had happened on her date with some guy named Greg that she met at the local bar. As much as I love the girl, I wasn't exactly heartbroken to see her rush off to tell Kitty of her exciting night.
I slowly made my way to the staff kitchen. I had finished my schooling a year back and now was the proud recipient of a bachelors in English. The professor had promised me a job as a teacher as soon as he found out I was studying to be one. I was comfortable at the mansion, happy even. It was home.
I finally made my way down the stairs, craftily avoiding another run in with a hyper Jubes. I hadn't made it two feet away from the staircase before I halted dead in my tracks. He was back…finally. You would think after six years someone would change just a bit, but he hadn't. It was as if he was exactly the same as he was the day he left. The layers of shirts topped with not only a jean jacket but a leather coat as well. His hair sticking up in dark scruffy points. It was like I had remembered him.
I would dream of this day when I was younger. I always thought that there was a double meaning to the phrase, "I'll come back for these" as he gently placed the cold metal tags in my palm. In my teenage muddled mind I always thought he meant he would come back for me. It doesn't get more childish than that. Like Jean had said, I fell out of my stage of hero worship. He was just another guy to me. Actually, he was a guy who I missed talking to and missed having around.
He was reading the newspaper. He was leaning over with his elbows on his knees. A look of utter concentration adorned his face. I walked slowly towards him, a bit unsure of what to say. He had sent a postcard ever so often. Telling me where he was, where he'd been. I never really thought he would come back, and after him being gone a whole year, I had given up hope, and went on with my life. After the third year, with much persuading from a boyfriend, I took the tags from around my neck and put them safely at the bottom of my jewelry box. But here he was, reading a paper, like he had only been gone days, not years.
"When did ya get back, Logan?" I couldn't think of anything else to ask, even the I knew very well that he had to have come back sometime between 3 am and 6am. I don't sleep much. Only a few hours a night.
"Last night." He said indifferently. God, he didn't even take his eyes off the paper. Well, that's Logan for ya. Short answers and absolutely no eye contact.
"All right." I walked closer and took a seat next to him. He finally closed the paper. He turned just a bit as he pulled out a cigar. Sticking it between his lips he got up and walked towards the door. I couldn't believe it. As soon as I sit next to him he gets up to leave! What did I do? He stopped and turned around to face me. I could see the smirk on his face.
"I can't very well smoke this in here, now can I? Are you coming outside with me? We need to catch up." I know my mouth was gaping at that moment. I wanted to smack him for making me think he didn't like me anymore, but I also wanted to hug him for coming back. Such a humor the Wolverine has.
We walked outside onto the porch and there he sat on the short brick wall that outlined the porch. He lit his cigar and inhaled deeply as I took a seat next to him, swinging my feet methodically.
"Got back around 4am. Decided to stay up and wait for ya to come down the stairs, kid." He took a long puff and I smiled at the thought of him waiting for me.
"Where have ya been?"
"Around." Back to the short answers. Not good. I scooted a bit closer to him and grasped his hand. If anything had happened out on the road, he would tell me when he was ready. It was probably nothing; he just didn't like talking. I squeezed his hand and turned him to look at me.
"I missed ya a lot, Logan." He just sort of look at me for a minute. After a few minutes I thought I had said something wrong or I had something on my face. But then he just gave a small half smile and squeezed my hand beck.
"Me too, Kid. Me too."