Three hours, two showers and a bag of fast food burgers later, Jesse and Logan finally lay down to sleep. Jesse could sense the brokenness in the man beside her. She prayed his miraculous power to heal could reach his emotions as it did with his body. Her eyes began to droop as soon as her head hit the pillow. She'd been awake for close to 24 of the longest hours of her life.

Reaching out to let her fingers smooth over the wiry hair on his cheek she whispered, "I'm sorry."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "For what?"

"We shoulda left Pandora's box alone."

He closed his eyes and for one brief moment, the tension left his face. "You don't think that lid woulda blown off eventually? Maybe everything happened just like it was supposed to. Except for this." He brought a finger up to touch the wound on her face.

'Logan, what did you see?"

He opened his eyes and shook his head. There were no words to describe what he'd seen. The blood on his hands, the killing machine he'd been. And maybe always would be. How could he tell the woman he loved that he was more like her fierce, feral spirit animal than he was human?

The look in his eyes held something so profoundly sad that cold fear began snaking its way through Jesse's heart. Without being told, she knew where his thoughts were leading.

"You're not leaving, Logan?" She gave voice to her fear. Just forming the words and allowing them out of her mouth caused hot tears to prick her eyelids. "You can't protect me that way."

He sighed and rolled over on his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm not gonna put you in danger again." The empty sound of his voice told Jesse his mind was made up.

"Logan, you listen to me," she sat up in bed. "Losing you would hurt more than a million scratches like this. These I can recover from. But if you walk away…"

"I can't even protect you from myself," he argued, suddenly angered. "Do you think I'd recover if I took your head off next time?"

"There won't be a next time," she argued, wondering how long he'd been torturing himself with this thought.

"We are not doing a vision quest again. We're not gonna sit in a drug induced coma hoping for memories to come that were hidden for a reason. And one more thing. I've never tried to tie you down. You've always been free to stay or go. But don't try to justify leaving by saying it's for my own good. My life is mine and if I want to put it in danger, that's my choice. I'd rather die beside you than without you."

The tears she'd been holding back finally escaped. Now Logan wasn't the only one who was angry. She slid out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Once the door closed between them the thought of him leaving hit her like a kick in the gut. She sat on the floor, knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them, giving in to her emotions. This wasn't something she did often. She'd been taught to trust the universe. To believe in balance and a higher power. That she really owned nothing and life was better left out of her control. But this was different. This was Logan. She let her heart bleed for a minute. There was so much more she wanted to say. But these things didn't need to be spoken in anger. A strong urge to beg him not to go rose up within her. But stubborn pride was stronger still.

Rising to her feet, she washed her face and blew her nose, getting a grip on herself before facing him again.

When she opened the bathroom door she saw the bed was empty. Logan stood silhouetted by moonlight streaming through the open front door. He stood with his back to her, one hand gripping the doorframe over his head, the other a smoldering cigar.

"Don't leave," she said, crossing the room and sliding her arms around him from behind. She pressed her uninjured cheek against his back, breathing when he did. Feeling his pulse against her skin. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to beg. His love was worth that much loss of pride, and suddenly holding on to anger didn't seem important.

He turned to her, eyes so tired and full of pain that Jesse had to reach up and press her palms to his face. She knew she could be the balm that soothed him. She wanted to wash his hurt away. It was her place as his woman.

"Looks like war paint," he whispered, gingerly kissing the cuts on her face. Jesse's arms tightened around him. He sounded more like himself than he had in several hours. She could only dare to hope that was a good sign.


Opening her eyes to broad daylight startled Jesse wide-awake. She hadn't meant to sleep so long. Pushing the covers aside, she got up, only to realize Logan was gone. She called for him, padding across the cabin's bedroom to look out the windows. The back door was propped open, allowing a warm breeze into the room. When she looked out, she saw him sitting on top of a picnic table, beer in one hand, cigar dangling from another. She watched him for a minute, hand flying to her throat when she caught the moment he detected her scent on the wind. He turned to her, setting down the beer and holding out a hand. Smiling was out of the question, but she gladly climbed onto the table and nestled under his arm. They stayed there, silent, for a long time, both afraid to break the spell of being close. Everything seemed fragile now and Jesse wasn't about to say a word, for fear he'd tell her he'd be heading out soon. But the worry wore on her. She needed to know what he was thinking. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she finally worked up the courage to speak.

"So what are we gonna do now?" she ventured. She'd meant to say 'you' instead of 'we,' but she couldn't separate from him in her mind.

He squeezed her shoulder and bent over to kiss her cheek. "We should probably get something to eat and then head over here, to the hospital. We need to get your face looked at. Bears are nasty. That could get infected. Much as I like the new look I'd hate for you to lose an eye."

She took a tourist flyer from him, turning it over to examine a map that had the nearest emergency room circled.

"Then I'd have one less eye to use to see how beautifully handsome you are," she said, risking raising the right side of her mouth into a grin. Relief flooded her with such intensity she was sure he'd be able to smell it.

Logan took a drag of his cigar, holding the smoke till he could pull her close. Then he pressed his lips against hers, prying them open to blow it into her mouth. This was a ritual of familiarity and possession, mostly used on animals, but Jesse understood its significance. Even though it made her eyes water she greedily inhaled his smoke, his breath, his being. Her fingers tightened their grip on his shirt as he left a trail of kisses down her neck.

'You make the difference, Princess," he breathed against her ear.

"What difference?" she asked, puzzled, but thankful his mood had changed. His grip on her tightened to the point she could barely breathe.

"The difference between me and the wolverine."


"They cleaned everything out, super-glued me, gave me a shot in the ass and sent me back home."

Jesse sat with Logan at a booth in Tony's diner, holding Tony, Sophie, Daniel and Daniel's new Navaho girlfriend Suzanna in rapt attention. They'd decided to say she'd been jumped by a cougar, blaming it for the cuts on her cheek. Jesse knew it didn't sit well with Logan to lay blame on an animal, then take credit for being a hero, but she'd assured him the whole story would die quickly and soon people would want to talk about something else. The details of the vision quest were not spoken of, and for once, she was glad of the tradition not to pry into these things.

"A cat like that could have done some major damage," Tony remarked as Jesse dropped her gaze.

"There wasn't time," Jesse answered, trying to smile against the tightness of the skin beneath her cheekbone. "Logan was there. It was really… barely a scratch." Under the table, she squeezed Logan's leg to remind him to stop growling under his breath.

"I need some more Coke," she changed the subject, rising to her feet and sliding out of the booth. She filled her glass and out of habit, turned back to see if anyone else needed a refill. The diner was empty and closed, but a newly acquired big screen TV winked softly in one corner. Jesse dropped her glass when a commercial came across the screen advertising a show about prehistoric creatures. There stood a cat much bigger than the one she was blaming for her injuries. It was the very cat that stalked her in her dream.

"What's wrong, Honey?" Sophie asked, appearing beside her with a towel. She bent to mop up what Jesse had spilled while the younger woman tried to regain her composure.

"Saber tooth," She whispered, still staring at the screen. "I knew it had a name."

"Saber tooth?" Logan repeated, puzzled by her reaction. He could smell the fear that rose up in her, and see it widen her eyes.

"They're extinct. Just like T-Rex and those Raptors. Nothin' to worry about. We'll never see one of those around here."

"Oh dear, you poor girl," Sophie reached around to hug her. "That cougar certainly did frighten you, didn't it?" Jesse took that explanation for her own and nodded, eyes still wide. The older woman patted her hand and then prodded them out the door, promising she'd clean up after their dinner.

"What was that about?" Logan asked as the diner's door closed behind them. A fresh breeze blew, whipping his hair into his face.

"It was in my dream," she said softly. "Hunting."

"Your dream at the cabin?"

Jesse nodded. "But they're extinct, right?"

Logan made a funny growling noise in the back of his throat, taking her hand and leading her down the steps. Jesse followed, content to let the subject drop. At the time of her dream she hadn't been able to place the creature's name. But now the word 'Saber tooth' was stamped forever in her thinking. Logic told her not to dwell on extinct creatures, but logic had no place in spirit dreams.