Okay, so I lied. There is a sequel. I was daydreaming the other day, this scenario popped into my head, and I wrote it down. Once again, I'm claiming Alternate Universe because 1. everyone seems to have their own love story w/ Wolverine and someone else (he seems to get getting it on with everyone lately) and 2. I'm sure to have fucked up logically again. Any facts that I may have neglected to add are because either I don't know about them, they don't fit with the story, or they mess it up completely. I don't own the character of Wolverine/Logan (insert standard disclaimer here). Please don't say he's out of character. I mean duh, I'm not Stan Lee, am I? Besides it's AU so relax... bub.
Also please forgive my ignorance in other areas such as Canada (I've never been there... all I know is the drinking age, and that was all the research I cared to do for a fan fic). Oh yeah, I also suck at writing fight scenes. Sorry about that.
As for Bloodraven, she's my character. So as Wolverine says somewhere in here, "Don't mess with my girl." Enjoy the story, please read and review (constructive, please, not just poking logistical holes or nagging!)
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Chapter 1:
Not Just Another Bar Fight
By Mordred LeFay
"So why are we stopping here?" Raven asked, hopping out of the truck. She clutched her coat around her, against the chill. She hated having to leave the warmth of the truck. She didn't mind it so much a few miles back, when they stopped at a Denny's for dinner. At least there had been food awaiting her there. She had a bad feeling about all bars, but especially this one.
Logan strode ahead, his breath forming wispy clouds in the evening chill. It was a mangy-looking place, to be sure, but it was as good as any, and probably the last one for miles.
"Wolverine," she called, hurrying after.
"'Cause I need a drink," he replied, continuing on.
"But you're the one driving," she reminded him, joining him at his side. "Unless you can use your accelerated healing factor to sober up too."
"Quit naggin' me, woman," he growled in mock annoyance. "Ya sound like my mother."
"You don't remember your mother," she answered, smirking. "And she never nagged you. She barely talked to—"
"You keep tellin' me secrets and there ain't gonna be nothin' to discover, will there?" He gave her a half smile as they neared the doors. "It won't be for long, promise. As for drivin', I'm sure ya know how, if it came to that. But it won't."
She slipped ahead and turned to face him, blocking the door. "Promise?"
"I promise. Just one, then we're out an' on the road again," he assured her, nudging her out of the way as the door opened and a large man stepped out. He almost blundered into Raven, then stumbled out of the way and gave a clumsy nod.
"Sorry 'bout that little lady, mister," he apologized, then lumbered off toward a tractor trailer truck parked at the end of the lot.
"Damn truck-stop bar," Raven grumbled under her breath. "I don't like this, Logan, not at all."
"Relax," he replied, putting his arm around her shoulders and leading her in. The place was like every stereotypical bar in Raven's mind: smoky, dark, reeking of beer and body odor. It looked like she was the only woman in the place. A few men glanced up; eyes fixed on her and made her skin crawl. She shivered and tried her best to sink into her coat, to disappear. She reassured herself with the thought that if a fight broke out, she could at least change in the confusion and settle somewhere in the rafters, out of sight.
There was space at the bar, and they took it, Logan being sure to give Raven the seat with another empty one to the side. A few threatening glares from him kept wandering eyes to themselves. Raven folded her arms across her chest, hunched over, tried to make herself as small as possible.
"Just remember what I told ya," Logan whispered to her. "You're a warrior, darlin'. Remember that. You could probably kick half the chumps in here to next week. Ya know how to defend yourself. Not that I won't defend ya." He gave her a wink, then became more serious. "You hafta be tough. No fear. Some of these guys can smell fear, an' they love it. It marks ya as prey. An' right now it's pouring off of you like cheap perfume."
"All right," she muttered, drawing herself up, straightening her shoulders. Logan could see a transformation come over her: her chin lifted, her mouth was set, her lower lip pouting out a slight bit. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, her eyes hardening. She looked like a poised yet cold-hearted queen, beautiful and deadly. "How's this?"
He patted her arm proudly. The bartender shuffled over, wiping a glass with a rag. "What can I get ya?" he asked.
"Beer," Logan replied. Raven grimaced slightly.
"Pepsi, or Coke, whichever," she ordered.
"Can I see your I.D.?" the bartender responded.
Raven pursed her lips, raised an eyebrow. "Gee, Logan," she said, "you never told me Canada had a drinking age for soda." She dug in her purse and handed her license over. The bartender squinted at it for a moment.
"There ain't," he responded, "an' usually I don't ask, but I had an undercover cop in here a few days back, with some kid. Law says no minors in bars. If it weren't for my instinct, I woulda lost my liquor license, so now I'm extra careful." He handed it back. "Yer twenty so yer legal anyway, 'least in Canada, though I see you're not from here. Want anything or are you stickin' with soda?"
"Soda, thanks," Raven confirmed. The barkeep nodded and went about his business. She glanced over at Logan. "So why do you need a drink, huh? Is traveling with me too much for you, you gotta drown your sorrows?" She smirked. He rolled his eyes and took his beer from the bartender. The man handed Raven her soda. "Thanks," she said.
"Hey, bub, where's the can?" Logan asked.
"Thataway," the bartender responded, gesturing to the left with a grubby thumb. He went back to rubbing at the glass with his rag.
"I'll be right back," Logan assured Raven, getting to his feet. Raven watched him make his way across the smoke-filled room, past clusters of men playing cards, smoking, laughing at bawdy stories and jokes.
"Hurry," she pleaded under her breath. Her discomfort hadn't waned, despite her cool façade. Raven still felt exposed. I wonder if this is to get back at me for dragging him into that café, she wondered. She sipped her soda, tried her best to keep looking confident. A minute ticked by on her watch, then two. No one seemed to take any notice of her now; she sighed in relief. Besides, he'd be back soon. Shaking her head, she admonished herself for being so nervous, then jumped as a hand clamped onto her knee.
"Hey baby, why don'cha ditch that loser yer with and come with me," a leering voice hissed into her ear. "I can take ya fer a ride in the back of my—" he broke off as the blade of Raven's switchblade dug into his belly. In less time than it took him to blink, she had reacted, slipping the knife out of her pocket and flipping it open. She nudged him with the tip, threateningly. The sharp blade pierced his shirt and threatened his skin.
Raven seized his shirt with one hand to keep him from backing away. "I have a better idea," she hissed. "Why don't you get your filthy hand off of my knee and walk away." She saw Logan starting across the room, pushing people out of his way, alarm and rage in his eyes. She nodded her head toward him. "'Cause he's on his way, and he has a worse temper than me."
Logan was already at her side, eyeing the scoundrel with murder in his eyes. "This fella bothering you, darlin'?" he growled.
"Nothing I can't handle," she replied smoothly, releasing the man's shirt and making a show of wiping off her hand on her coat. She flipped her knife shut with one clean motion and returned it to her pocket.
The lowlife stumbled back, stammering, "I-I didn't know she was yer chick, man, I'm sorry!"
"I'd like to believe that, bub," Logan snarled. "Keep yer hands off her unless ya wanna lose 'em."
"Logan, sit down, it's okay," Raven urged him softly. She returned her steely gaze to the other, who was scrambling back to his table.
Logan sat down, grumbling. "Well, you handled that well," he admitted, taking a swig of his beer.
"I learned from the master," Raven replied, sipping her soft drink. "I don't know why you like these places. Can we go soon?"
"Soon," he replied. "I don't think you gotta worry about that dirtbag; I think ya scared him."
"I think you scared him," she corrected. She glanced tentatively over to where the man had gone. He was angry, talking to another guy, a powerfully-built, mean-looking man who glared over at them, bared his teeth. He got up and made his way over to the bar.
"Logan..." she whispered, scared. She tugged at his sleeve.
"I see him," he responded in a low whisper, not looking up. "Keep cool."
Logan pretended he didn't notice the thug until he spoke, "I hear tell you've been pickin' on one of my boys."
Logan still didn't face the man. "Tell your boy he shouldn't be messin' with my girl." He finished his beer, set the bottle down. The man grabbed it suddenly, smashed it against the bar. Raven yelped as broken glass went flying. He shoved the jagged edge of the bottle in Logan's face.
"No one messes with my boys and gets away with it!" he yelled. Then he cried out in pain as Logan's fist smashed into his face, then his other into the man's gut. Raven jumped back, right into the grasp of two of the man's thugs. She screamed.
"Raven!" Logan roared. Raven thrashed in the men's arms, kicking and biting, earning herself a punch to the head for her trouble. Her vision swam and blurred, tears in her eyes. She had bitten her lip; she could taste the blood in her mouth. They dragged her outside, the brawl following them.
The men muscled her to the ground, tearing at her coat. "Logan!" she screamed hoarsely. Through her panic, she mustered the concentration to change. Her clothing melted into feathers, her body compacting itself. Her purse fell to the ground as she rose.
"Wha?" one of the thugs exclaimed, confused. His confusion turned to surprise as Raven took wing, flapping furiously, higher and higher, then dove. The man cried out in pain as she latched onto his face, her claws scrabbling and gouging, her beak plunging into his eyes. "Aurgh! My eyes!" he howled in pain, groping blindly, trying to get her off of him. She was unrelenting, wings flapping, beak plunging again and again. She could feel his eye rupture, taste the vitreous humor, taste the blood, taste his intentions. They only made her more and more furious; she started on the other eye. His shrieks grew more and more frantic. She seized the eye in her beak, clamped it shut, feeling it burst. The jelly that had been his eye dribbled from her beak.
Raven's claws released the shreds of his face, he fell whimpering, she rose, flew a distance away, then landed and changed back. She whipped out her knife and threw it; it sunk itself deeply into the throat of the other thug, dropping him where he stood. Dashing over, Raven snatched up the knife, returned to the blinded man, and slit his throat like an animal. Grabbing her purse, she rose to her feet and turned...
It was pure carnage. Four men lay in various stages of mutilation around Logan, who stood at ready, claws out, his arms bloodied to the elbows. He shook with fury, teeth clenched and eyes flashing.
Someone threw a punch; he caught it, crushing the man's knuckles. Another kicked him, knocking him back a step, but he quickly recoiled, coming back with a kick to the man's legs, his fist cracking ribs and laying the thug out on the ground. The other two closed in as the first two staggered to their feet, their breath coming heavily and pained, but not giving up.
Over the shoulder of one assailant Logan watched them wrestle Raven to the ground, saw as they struck her, viciously, across the face, saw them trying to rip her clothes off. That was it; up until that point he was only using his fists, his adamantium-plated bones doing enough damage, he thought, for a pack of bar thugs. "Logan!" Raven screamed, her voice, so frightened, so helpless, ignited a wildfire in his blood. One of the thugs pulled a pistol, shot him in the shoulder. The bullet ripped through, managed to miss bone, and went out the other side. Wolverine's claws slid out with a *snikt*, the pain nothing to him. He slashed wildly, frenziedly, almost blindly, blood splattering his face, howling in utter rage...
"Logan!" Raven cried, rushing to him. He swept her up in his arms, grateful she was all right but still numb, his muscles still taut. His hands pressed into her back, blood soaking into her coat. He closed his eyes, held her tight.
"I heard a shot," she panted. Feeling something warm and wet soaking into her shoulder, she pulled away and gasped at the wound.
"Don't worry about it; it's already closing up," he assured her.
"Jesus!" came a gasp from the doorway. "Somebody call the police, an ambulance, something!"
Logan's eyes snapped open. "We gotta get out of here," he grunted. He grabbed her arm, harshly in his haste, and pulled her along. They jumped into the truck and screamed out of the parking lot.
"Shit! Shitshitshit..." Raven panted, glancing wildly behind them. "Fuck! What are we gonna do?"
"I'm thinkin'. You okay?" he asked, glancing over her. There was tender concern in those blue eyes, she noticed, so different from the raging beast she had seen in them back there. She nodded.
"I guess so. I'm a bit roughed up, and I bit my lip. But it's all right now; I changed into a raven," she explained, telling him how she overcame her attackers.
"Serves them right," he growled.
Raven was silent for a moment. "What happened to you back there?" she blurted. "I've never seen you so ferocious, even when you're fighting." She shivered in the memory, stared nervously out the window at the side-view mirror, scanning for the flashing of police car lights.
She saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel, the knuckles sticking out. His hands and arms were still covered in blood. The wound in his shoulder had disappeared; only the hold in his clothing remained. Jesus, what are we going to do about the mess? she wondered. If we get pulled over we're busted for sure.
"I—I just—when I saw them with their hands on you, heard you scream... something snapped. I couldn't control myself. I wanted to kill 'em all." His jaw clenched with the memory of it.
"Well you sure did," Raven muttered. "Not that I'm ungrateful, mind you. Those men were gonna..." she trailed off. A muscle twitched in Logan's jaw.
"Seemed pretty obvious."
"Well I did gouge out that one guy's eyes," she reminded him, wincing, scraping her tongue against the roof of her mouth to get rid of the taste. "I didn't like what else I tasted from him either."
"He's not affiliated with anyone, is he? Magneto or somethin'?"
Raven shook her head. "No, just a common lowlife." She shivered, crossed her arms. Logan flipped the heat on. Blood stained the knob. "Man, what the hell are we going to do about all this blood?" she murmured. "Next time you want to go into a bar, why don't I change and sit on your shoulder so they'll just think you're some weirdo with a pet raven?"
Logan chuckled. "I can't believe you're laughing at a time like this! We just murdered six men between the two of us, there are twenty plus witnesses in that bar, and you and the inside of this truck are all covered in blood! What the hell are we going to tell the police if they stop us, huh?" Raven demanded, panicking.
"We can tell them we were hunting," he suggested.
"Yeah, that'll fly, we were hunting. 'So where's the kill then?' 'Uh... um...'." She gave him a skeptical look. "What are you gonna do, go kill a deer for our alibi? And how do we explain all this blood?"
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"I can't believe you took me seriously," Raven sighed, rubbing her temples as Logan heaved a deer into the back of the truck.
He wiped the blood off of himself with a rag, tossed the rag in the back of the truck. "It was a good idea, not the perfect one, but considerin' our situation," he said, shrugging. "Might as well try it. Better than no alibi."
"With your bare friggin' hands. Claws," she corrected herself, shaking her head as she got back in the truck. "Like a wolf. Just like the old days..."
"What did I tell ya about secrets?" he warned her jokingly.
"You're in a damn good mood considering the night we've just had," Raven mused. She shook her head again, exasperated, confused, astonished. At least the steering wheel was clean again, or as clean as it was originally, and the dashboard as well.
"I am. I dunno why," he admitted. He pulled out a cigar, lit it up.
"Yuck! Jeez, why can't you smoke pipes or something? At least the smoke smells okay, not like that stale thing." Raven wrinkled her nose and rolled the window down a crack. Icy air streamed through. "You and your stinky cigars."
"Stale thing? This is a Havana, darlin'," he protested through a mouthful of cigar.
"You know what it looks like you're doing," she taunted him, "looks like you're suckin' on a big—"
"Don't say it, I'm warnin' ya," he said, cutting her short. Raven cackled, a strange sound. "I don't know why I feel good. Sure as hell I shouldn't. We had quite the scare—"
"—killed six men."
"Yeah, yeah. They deserved it, the scum. But I dunno..." he paused, blew a puff of smoke (courteously away from Raven), scratched his cheek with his thumb. "I guess I'm glad we made it out alive, that you're all right." He smiled at her. "I'm proud'a the way ya handled yourself back there. You're a very capable woman."
"Thanks." Raven blushed a little. "If you teach your girls one thing, it's how to take care of ourselves." She smiled. "Don't you go neglecting them in favor of me, okay? I can keep myself out of tight places, but Kitty and Jubilee and them, they depend on you."
"I think Kitty can get out of tighter places than you," he pointed out. "No way I'd abandon my girls. Actually," he admitted, "I was worried that you'd be upset about that. Jealous or somethin'."
"Of course not! They need you. I know that. How could I be jealous of them?" Raven needled him. "We're like the sisterhood of Logan's Girls. You're our protector." She winked, then yawned, her mouth gaping open. "Are we gonna stop for the night?"
"Too proud to sleep sittin' up, are we?"
"C'mon! I want to sleep in a bed, just one night, even if it's some skeevy motel," Raven pleaded.
Logan looked at her hard for a minute, considering. With a sigh, he gave in, "Fine. But we have to drive a bit first. There's a reason I headed the way we came when we left. That's the way they'll tell the police we went; they won't know we turned around again. Still, they'll be searchin' in all directions, so we'd best keep a move on for a few more hours at least. Besides, there's a place I know where they'll let us stay. I stayed there from time to time when I was hunting; we can unload that deer there too."
"Where is it?"
"Some hunting lodge. 'Old Man' Stevens turned it into a bed and breakfast sorta place for hunters and hikers passin' through. If we're lucky, that deer back there'll pay for our lodging."
"Sounds better than some random motel at any rate," Raven declared. "All right then, I'll just take a little nap." She lay her head back and closed her eyes.
----
Logan sat parked in the lot outside the lodge, finishing his cigar. He watched Raven sleep, drinking in her beauty with his eyes. The faint porch light illuminated her face, lit it up like a pale moon. Her lashes were like black lace, her hair falling around her face like cobwebs or feathers. Her lips curved slightly; he ached to kiss them, but didn't want to wake her just yet, just watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She was worth all the trouble, all the trouble in the world. He thought of the four men he had killed for her that night, knew that he would gladly kill hundreds more in her name. He loved her like he'd never loved another; not his protective love for Rogue or Kitty or Jubilee, not his fleeting love for Jean, nothing had been like what he was feeling now.
Gently, he stroked her cheek, kissed the top of her head. She sighed and stirred to wakefulness in his arms. "I'm up," she slurred, slumping against him.
"We're here, darlin'," he whispered, shaking her gently. She yawned and opened her eyes, rubbed them. She smiled sleepily.
"Good," she murmured, then surprised him with a kiss. Her tongue slid briefly against his lips, tickled the corner of his mouth.
He pulled back reluctantly, chuckled softly. "Save it for the room," he advised, opening his door and jumping out. She followed suit, and the two made for the door of the lodge, Raven leaning against him, still half-asleep.
An elderly woman sat behind the desk, reading a well thumbed "Fishing" magazine. She looked up when she heard the bell. "Evenin', ma'am," Logan greeted her. "Is Mr. Stevens in?"
"No, he's sick with the flu, poor thing," she replied, heaving herself off of her stool. She was a large woman, but compact, with steel-gray hair and well-muscled arms. "What can I do you for?"
"I'd like a room for the night, if you've got a vacancy. I have a deer, was going to offer it as payment," Logan began to explain, pointing out the window to the truck, but the woman waved her hand at him.
"Don't you worry, I know all about Bill's arrangements. He made sure of it, before he'd let me take the reins!" She chuckled softly. "This your girl?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Well can't let you room together unless you're married. I don't know what Bill says about it but I've got my morals." The woman stood firm, her arms crossed on her large bosom.
"Yeah, she's my wife," Logan said, smooth as anything. Luckily, Raven's sleepiness hid her shock.
"She ain't got a ring."
Logan sighed and leveled a glance at the woman. "Ma'am, if I'm payin' you with venison, what makes ya think I've got any money for a wedding ring?"
She put her hands up in a gesture of protest for her innocence. "My apologies, I don't mean to pry. But I had to ask." She turned to the wall, plucked a key from a hook. "Number five, 'round the corner, end of the hall on your right. Breakfast is at 8 o'clock, checkout at noon. I'll have one of my boys get that deer from your truck." She smiled at the pair. "Pleasant dreams."
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"'She's my wife,' eh?" Raven remarked, towel-drying her hair. The shower had refreshed her; she felt reborn, scrubbed clean of the dirt, the stink of travel, the blood, the guilt. She wasn't accustomed to killing, although this wasn't the first time, and it still left her shaky, but she chose to view it as an extermination of vermin rather than murder. She knew she was just justifying it, trying to make herself feel better, but better them than her.
"Well, what did ya want me to say? After what happened tonight, I ain't lettin' ya outta my sight." Logan sat on the edge of the bed, wearing only his jeans. He yawned.
"Oh, now who's tired?" Raven scolded playfully, balled up her towel and threw it at him. It hit him in the face; he picked it up and scowled at her. But the scowl didn't hold long, and soon he was laughing. Raven laughed and jumped at him; he caught her, her momentum knocking him back onto the bed. Raven nuzzled his face like a cat, stubble on his chin scratching her skin.
"Yeah, and now you're awake." Logan growled in reply After a minute or so, Raven pulled back, her hair tickling his face. She looked supremely happy, but it began to fade; she almost looked guilty. "What is it?" Logan asked.
"I'm sorry about tonight," Raven blurted out suddenly. "Jesus, I had no idea we'd get into that much trouble because of me."
Logan sighed, frowned at her. "Look, I was the one who dragged ya into that bar. It ain't your fault some scumbucket put his hands where they don't belong. As for trouble—" he smiled fondly at her, "—you're worth it. I'm serious, Raven. Okay?"
"Okay," she agreed, snuggling up to him. "Although I don't know why."
"Because I love you," he whispered, kissing her. "Relax, darlin'. I seem t' remember someone tellin' me 'stop thinking and just feel' a little while ago," he reminded her.
Giving him her best seductive smile, Raven kissed him passionately. He returned it hungrily, kneading his hands down her back. "I love you too," she whispered as she broke off the kiss. She ran her fingers through his hair. "Funny, even though we've been spending a lot of time traveling together, we haven't had much time to ourselves."
He held her tightly. "Tomorrow we continue to Alberta, right?"
"Right," she murmured. She barely heard him, she was too caught up in bliss. He said he loved me!
"So let's take advantage of the time we have," Logan whispered, running his fingers through her soft, dark hair, "and spend tonight in the present." He gently drew her face down to his for another sweet kiss. "'Cause believe me, darlin', that's all I'm thinkin' about right now."
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To be continued...
(seriously, a little bit more pops into my head each day. Weird, huh? Don't forget to review!)
