a/n just like to thank my beta's charmenfan and littlechoo, This is my first ever fanfiction,please be kind.
I do not own the x-men or any of the characters.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARIE...
The whole saying how a person can be in a room full of people and feel totally alone was damn right.
Sometimes it feels like she's walking around with a whole damn crowd; shouting to be heard in her mind. She can feel totally alone even in the presence of actual physical people and that crowd, well it's full of the dregs of moral society.
Like the professor says her power is an awesome weapon, which is why she doesn't use it on the good guys or the people she cares about, unless absolutely necessary. This leaves her with the bad guys -- who she doesn't think are particularly nice even when they are sane.
It can get pretty twisted at times, like tonight her latest mission. She always struggles to sleep afterwards, even when exhausted she's too busy struggling with her mental warfare against the latest personalities; tonight is no different.
Trying unsuccessfully to settle her mind, she rolls her aching and bruised body onto its side. Staring unseeingly into the dark, she begins pushing at the messed up mutants memories she absorbed earlier tonight while on an away mission.
They had been trying to rescue a new mutant; a young girl, who had just rather spectacularly, and dangerously manifested her mutant powers in front of a classroom full of students, and a teacher; which had inspired a good old fashioned angry mob.
Unfortunately the X-Men weren't the only ones who knew about her. The Brotherhood knew too and wanted her for their own means. It was while they were trying to distract and disperse the angry mob, that the Brotherhood had attacked. It was while their attention had been diverted between the mutants and civilians, that Kitty had been jumped by one of the Brotherhood; who'd overpowered her and started to cut her up. Rogue stealthily snuck up behind him, and while he was otherwise occupied, she'd gripped the back of his neck and held onto to him until he was unconscious.
She was not having fun trying to repress him and his twisted thoughts into background noise. That added to all the other voices, and she was ready to start screaming; or make something bleed.
One in particular is always protecting her. Even in her mind, when it gets too much, he snarls and growls and pops his Adamantium claws threateningly when they get too loud; when he's in the mood that is.
Sometimes he's the problem, prowling the edges of her mind when he's agitated, which has her practically crawling out her own skin. Everyone knows to avoid her at times like this. She thinks it's the scowl and general jumpiness no one wants to be around -- a jumpy girl with deadly skin.
Tonight he's doing a bit of both. Helping keep the ghosts of peoples psyche's at bay, as she tries not to drown under the sheer weight of them, while they prowl agitatedly in the confines of her mind.
Looking at the glowing, ruby numbers of her digital clock on the bedside cabinet, she huffs gently at the time; it's three am. Giving up on sleep entirely she kicked off the tangled sheets and gets out of bed, thinking that if she's not asleep now chances are that she won't be getting any until tonight. She might as well enjoy the quietness and time to her self.
She can't be bothered putting on her sweats to cover up, as there won't be anyone around at 3am. Even the most restless are asleep. So no one would be scrambling out the way at the sight of her bare skin, revealed by her sports bra and batman boxers.
Starting to make her way across the room, she caught a glimpse of her profile as she passed the mirror. Turning fully to face it, she studies her reflection and grimaces at the sight. Bruises marked her ribs, and her knees were scuffed from where Toad got the jump on her from behind. A stark white bandage wrapped around her forearm, against her milky pale skin, where another mutant spat some kind of gross acid at her. Her irritated, haunted eyes stare back at her from the reflection.
Letting out a sigh, she shrugged her shoulders and turns back on her course out the room. She tried to shake off the day's events and contemplated making herself a snack, trying to cover the tempting thoughts about grabbing a cold beer or whiskey. Like a certain restless, clawed part of her psyche is craving right now, knowing that it will only intensify the feeling of being wired.
She could also do without the Wolverine sized hangover. She tends to forget that she doesn't have a healing factor to keep up with the amount she puts away. She made her way into the kitchen and opened the fridge to gather what she needs to make herself a sandwich. She looked calculatingly at the 'secret' cupboard where she knows Logan stashes his whiskey.
One couldn't hurt could it? Just to help her relax a little?
Decision made, she made her way over towards the hidden nook in the wall, which once pushed it reveals a hidden panel to get to Logan's whiskey. Suddenly out of the shadows she hears a familiar, but unexpected rumble.
"That stuffs bad for yer health darlin'... particularly anything in that cupboard." He drawls.
Logan.
When did he come home? How long had he been gone this time? Two years or three?
Heart pounding, she turns towards where the sound of his voice came from. There he was leaning in the door way, shoulder against the frame, ankles crossed wearing his "other" uniform of snug denim; worn in places. Hugging his hips was a leather belt with a chunky belt buckle and a plain t-shirt usually worn underneath an old leather jacket; which is currently with his bag at his booted feet.
Raising a dark eyebrow she returns "You would know sugah, it's your bad habit" she drawls laying it on thick with her best southern belle impersonation "Welcome back sugah" she adds in her normal Mississippi twang.
His lips curls upward slightly "Hey kid, did ya miss me?"
She grins outright at their familiar greeting routine when he's been gone awhile. And she replies, shaking her head slightly, causing her silvery white streaks to fall forwards over her face covering her eye and cheek.
"Not really" she smiles, and he raises his own eyebrows in return and starts to make his way over.
"You gonna make me one of those darlin?" he nods at her half made sandwich.
"Sure thang" she chuckles, turning back to her task.
She's about to ask him what he wants on the sandwich, when she sense's him still behind her. An ominous growl rumbles from deep in his chest, instantly alert for danger. She looks towards him noticing the direction of his gaze, and source of the guttural growl.
His narrowed glare is fastened on her body – or more specifically her bruises – wincing she realises that the angle of her body and the shadows cast, had hidden her cuts and bruises so that he hadn't seen her injuries. She silently curses at her decision not to throw her sweats and gloves on. She takes a deep breath, her chest rising as she tries to count to ten and not snap back at him. Relaxing her stance one again, she keeps calm knowing that an explosion is coming, and wanting to temper it as much as possible.
She casually shrugs a shoulder, "They're just superficial, sugah" she croons "occupational hazard yah know, no biggie."
Okay wrong thing to say, Logan promptly explodes.
"It is a big deal!" he snarls "what was Chuck thinking sending you out on missions in the first place, you're just a kid!" his whiskey amber eyes flashed at her.
She tries not to let her own temper get the better of her. That he still thinks of her as a child is a bit of a sore point, not that he knows that of course but still, after all he is older than everyone else in the mansion, including the professor. So all of them could be classed as "kids" in his eyes. She was not about to let him get away with it, not in the least.
She shoots back "He was thinking that ah'm an asset to the team! After all, you know anyone else with the ability to have this kind of power? Like ol' rust bucket said, I'm a great weapon, just a disaster in the personal arena" she adds somewhat sardonically, and then in a much more neutral tone of voice while beginning to make a new sandwich.
"Besides ah'm not a kid anymore, not since Liberty Island. Anyways, never mind the fact ah'm twenty-one, which makes me legal for just about anything."
He pauses in his scowling and he seems surprised by that comment "Twenty-one? Damn. When did that happen?" he's looking puzzled and he seems to be talking to himself rather than to her, but she still answers anyway.
"About seven months ago, sugah" she playfully teases.
That seems to relax him slightly, instinctively he knows she's not angry or upset that he missed her birthday and wasn't around. He knows she doesn't celebrate her birthday anyways, even if he was. She couldn't stand the attention and she hated the whole birthday gig, she always had. The generic cards and sickly sweet birthday cake, and people who don't like you and you don't like in return, pretending to be nice because it's your birthday. People watching you open presents and so on.
The whole thing has always made her uncomfortable. Most people don't even know when her birthday is out of respect for her privacy. And besides, it wasn't that an uncommon practice here. Some choose to leave their birthdays in the past, along with their past lives, preferring to choose a new one, one that means something to them; usually the day they came to the institute or something similar. Although it was never one of the rituals she had picked up when cleansing herself of her old life.
The only people, who knew when her actual birthday was, were those who had to know for legal reasons; the professor, the x-men team leaders, hank, her doctor, and Logan. Of course he knew most things about her from one of they many midnight talks when they couldn't sleep.
"Still, twenty-one is kinda big darling. I still would've taken you out for a drink like we planned."
It was one of those promises he'd made in those sleepless nights when he would take her out for her first drink. Legally, that is. Frowning, she begins to remind him of a couple of times when it wasn't legal.
He smirks.
Snorting, she ruefully shakes her head remembering the first time she'd snuck into his room and stole his whiskey. That was not long after Alkali Lake, when she had given into one of Logan's stronger personality traits as a coping mechanism.
She wasn't sure how to handle her emotions, so she had let her inner Logan guide her, and, well it was either get drunk or start a fight, and since it had the added bonus of numbing her, she steadily drunk herself into a stupor and drank half of the bottle.
By the time Logan had sniffed out her hiding place, down near the lakes abandoned boat house, she'd been in quite a state. He had spent the night alternating holding back her hair, while she had tossed up her cookie's and letting her sob into his shirt, venting her damned up emotions. Thus, resolving in her first, but by no means least, Wolverine sized hangover.
"Thanks" she drawls sarcastically "maybe we could've started a bar brawl or two to finish the night off" she adds acerbically. He chuckles as she tries to repress a shiver the sound causes; he doesn't do that often... well at least not in a none mocking way. Trying to piss someone off, kind of way she amended. It's almost as if they have to earn the real one, so when it's genuine and directed at her, she has to stop herself from becoming a boneless puddle at his feet.
She hands him his sandwich and begins to walk to the adjoining living room. Logan comes close, suddenly crowding her. Instinctively she tenses, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that she is wearing next to nothing; not that he hadn't seen her naked before, in her earlier intensive danger room training sessions. She had got her ass handed to her many a time and Logan had to put her near to unconscious in the shower, to get cleaned up.
Feeling warmth against her side, she looks down to see his bare hand hovering near to her exposed, bruised ribs.
"Do they hurt?" he asks gruffly. He's close enough now that she feels the wrath of his breath. Trying to swallow past her now dry mouth, she tries to think of something witty to say, a quick comeback, anything as long as it's intelligible.
"Nuh...no." Great she thinks, very intelligent. "Not really, ah've kinda got a high pain thresh hold these days. Comes with the territory ah guess" she husks, smiling as he leans closer. She doesn't flinch away like she would with anybody else, because she knows that he would never hurt her and that he's being careful as always; although there's something different this time.
"You certainly know how to dole it out darlin" he rumbles in her ear, his voice full of lazy, satisfied amusement "From what I hear, there's a particular Cajun walking round, a whole lot less cocky, and practically cups himself in your presence" he chuckles, his breath hot against her ear.
Unable to repress her response to the sensation, as well as the imagery of anyone other than Logan cupping them selves at this particularly moment in time, she shudders. Goosebumps rise on her flesh, and her skin is heating, flushing, and dampening. Her nipples become painfully taunt, and blatantly obvious through her sports bra.
Once again she cusses her failure at dressing herself before she left her room.
"L...Logan....w…what...?" he's at her neck now, his head bent, nose nearly touching her skin. He's breathing deeply, flushed in embarrassment and mortification. This time at the realization that he can unashamedly smell her arousal. Starting to jerk away, he snakes around her body to the front, looking her straight in the eyes.
Whoa.
She stops all movement, hardly breathing at the look in his eyes, they're all dangerous predator now, heavy lidded and heated amber eyes, glittering with...lust, and an animal's satisfaction that his prey is cornered.
Shocked to her very core, that Logan, her Logan, has changed the whole playing field; their whole relationship status, with that single look. She stumbles back in shock, as he begins to stalk towards her.
Feeling well and truly hunted, and not a little turned on, she continues to back away until she bumps into the wall. He cages her against it with his arms, his legs bracing her bare ones, denim rubbing in delicious friction. She bites back a whimper as he leans in, lips a fraction away from her.
Her eyes widen and her breath stills.
Practically nose to nose now, he grins wickedly and whispers "Boo!" she jumps, her temper rising, not liking the feeling of being played with. She opens her mouth to blast him, as if that was what he was waiting for. Then he swoops down, his mouth slanting over hers, and his tongue sweeping inside, in a hot, wet carnivorous way; claiming.
She begins to respond, her tongue touching his timidly, then with more confidence until she begins to feel the pull of her power starting to suck at his life force, not enough to begin memories, but just enough to feel the disjointed feeling of lust, and more earth shatteringly love, from him.
Drawing back quickly, they stare at each other breathing heavily. He smiles faintly at the look in her eyes; he knows she knows, and she begins to get the faint suspicion that he had planned it this way.
Seeing no rejection in her eyes or in her body response, he pushes back from the wall. His biceps, bulging mouth witheringly. They're standing completely separate once again, feeling suddenly bereft of his heat he says "Happy Birthday Marie" then turning around, he heads out of the room, up the stairs that take him to his room.
Not knowing what else to do and trying to process what just happened, she dazedly begins to clean up in the kitchen, putting away the evidence of the midnight snack.
Suddenly she stops and smiles, well maybe a person can be alone in room full of people and still feel totally alone but as long as she's alone with Logan, she finds she that she doesn't't mind so much anymore.
Leaving the plates in the sink, she walks out and follows him up to his room