Time Heals All Wounds

Ok – don't get all strange on me – I had to attempt it at least once – a pure NO OC story had to be done – I don't own them not a damned one – this time – I hope – maybe – nope not yet. (looks at the blank page in front of her – can I really do this?)

Ten years after X3 a heartbroken and much changed Marie comes home to the mansion – Can she handle the changes she finds – especially in the one person she counted on to never change.

A/N well this is the last chapter today - I need to get some sleep - so I will leave you with - well - a bad idea.

Chapter 9 Canadian Mist

Marie went out on the porch after the kitchen was cleaned up from the haircutting mess. She waited – wanting to see what he really thought of the hair cut – Jubilee came out with her and they sat on the porch – waiting.

"Do ya think he liked it?"

"I hope so – he looks more like himself now." Marie said.

They waited until lunch – and he didn't show for lunch.

"I'm takin him a tray." Marie said – worried.

She opened the door – the room was dark again – and he was back in the chair – a half full bottle of whiskey in one hand – a photograph in the other.

"Logan."

"Go away, Marie. I know you're tryin ta help – but I just can't."

"Logan – please eat."

"Why – she's dead."

"You aren't."

"I wish I was – I miss her so much." She walked over and looked at the picture. It was Logan and a beautiful oriental woman – both smiling – in traditional dress.

"She was beautiful." She leaned her head on his, sitting on the arm of the chair. He ignored her – just stared at the picture.

"Well – hand me the bottle – if you're goin down – I'm goin with ya." She said – reaching for the bottle in his hand.

"NO! You have somethin – someone – he's a jerk – but he loves ya."

"No he don't – he's too chicken shit ta face his past – too chicken shit ta face ME! I kicked him out – and he LEFT! He didn't fight – he didn't even TRY ta convince me ta let him stay. He was tryin ta talk me into an abortion when I hit him – LOGAN – Remy doesn't love me – I don't think he ever did."

"HE did WHAT?" He was pissed again – pissed was good – pissed meant he was alive.

"He got his wish – I didn't have the baby." She said.

"Damned Cajun bastard." He muttered – and handed her the bottle. "I think you could actually use this."

She took a long swig – and then another. Drunk sounded good at this point. He took the bottle and took a drink after her. They finished the bottle – and he pulled another one out of a stash behind the chair – the one place she hadn't looked.

She leaned against him in the chair, and he slipped one arm around her – and grabbed the sandwich she'd brought him.

"Why ya doin' that, sugar?" She asked.

"I need ta get back on my feet if I'm gonna kill that Gumbo." He said, washing down the sandwich with more whiskey.

"What good will that do – I got rid of him – learned my lesson tha hard way – men are scum."

"Not all men – Darlin – not all men." He whispered around the mouth of the bottle.

"Name one that ain't."

"Ok – Xavier."

"Under eighty."

"Well that leaves me out – too." He grinned and handed her the bottle.

"Piotr."

"Alive?"

"Drake."

"Not only no but hell no – he was cheatin on me with Kitty."

"Damn – Darlin – I'm tryin here. Angel."

"Okay – ya might have somethin there."

"McCoy."

"Alright – ya found two I don't know anythin bad about." She grabbed the bottle and took a big swig – the booze was getting to her head – it was starting to spin – and his hair felt soft against her cheek. "Wait – McCoy's BLUE!"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Just not somethin I could see myself sleepin with."

"What – never had a blue teddy bear?"

"Nope – it was red." She giggled – and felt him shift under her side. She looked down and right into his face as she slid off the arm – and into his lap.

"Red – hrm – don' t know anyone who's red. Green – we might be able ta dig up Toad." He grinned at her, the smell of whiskey and cigar strong. He stubbed out the cigar with his free hand, the other one was wrapped around her waist. She couldn't help staring at his lips – even in the shape he was in – she wanted to kiss him.

"This is a bad idea." She said as she cupped his cheek with her free hand – the other one wrapped around the neck of the bottle.

"Yep – really bad idea." He whispered as he leaned down and kissed her, the hand that had stubbed the cigar wrapping in her hair, the photograph forgotten on the floor.

"Logan – we can't do this – it ain't…" She protested when he lifted his mouth.

"Right – I know – it's wrong on so many levels."

"No – I meant possible. You aren't recovered enough yet." She whispered against his lips – she could feel his body trying – valiantly – to respond.

"Shit." He whispered – and then took the bottle from her and took another swig.

"Why?"

"Why what?

"Why Shit?"

"I'm sobering up – and realizing just HOW bad an idea this is." He took another swig – and another. "Nope – not helpin."

"Logan?"

"Darlin – YOU are drunk – and I ain't able ta take advantage of ya – so I'm gonna be a gentleman – and let ya take the bed." He stood up, and managed to pick her up and carry her to the bed.

"I don't want tha bed - I want YOU!" She said.

"No – Darlin – I ain't Gambit – You ain't Mariko. This is wrong." He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

She knew he remembered what alcohol did to her – it was why he gave her the bed – as soon as her head hit the pillow – she was fighting sleep. Then she quit fighting.

It was smell that woke her up – smell and pain – excruciating pain in her head. She tried to sit up to see what that horrible smell was and nearly passed out again – her head was spinning so fast.

"Take it slow – Darlin." He said from the chair. He had a plate of food – and was eating.

"What's that horrible smell?"

"Jubilee cooked – pepper steak." He said around a mouthful of food.

"Oh God – I am going to be sick."

"Not in my bed you aren't."

His bed – she tried to remember how she got here – she remembered drinking – and – she felt her face flush – she'd tried to seduce him. She was suddenly sober – completely and coldly sober.

"OH God – Logan!"

"Darlin – we were BOTH wasted – I ain't holdin it against ya." He handed her a plate. "You should eat somethin – though – or you will be sick."

His hand was more fleshed out – almost normal.

"What have you been doin?"

"Eating – drinking – water mostly – Baby – I didn't realize until you passed out just how much I need ya – and you need me. I ain't gonna let ya down again."

"Logan – don't do this for me – YOU need to do this for YOU." She said softly.

"Oh – Darlin – I am. I'm goin Cajun huntin." She heard him snarl.

"Oh no you aren't." She sat up – nearly dumping the plate.

"Yep – I won't kill him – but I did promise him a beatin' if he hurt ya – and I keep my word."

"LOGAN!" She looked over – his face highlighted in a beam of late afternoon sunlight – he was grinning at her. He looked almost normal – his damned healing factor pulling him together faster than anyone had the right to heal. She almost resented it.

He stood up and walked to the bed – and took the plate from her. He set it on the bedside table, and leaned down, gently brushing his lips across hers.

"Ya miss me – Darlin – admit it."

"Not THAT bad." She hissed at him.

"Two seconds – and that hangover will be gone." He grinned.

"Not on your damned life." She said.

"What's the matter – afraid you'll like it." The look of pain that crossed his face told her he'd gone farther than he'd intended.

"Logan?"

"I said that to Jean – to get her to read my mind." He said softly.

"Well – I ain't Jean." She said.

"Nope – you ain't – You are my girl – the one I promised ta take care of – and I'm doin a piss poor job."

"Logan."

"Go change."

"What?"

"Go change – we're goin for a ride." He said – his old grin on his lips. She didn't trust this change in him.

"I ain't sure that's a good idea."

"I know it ain't. Marie – I want ta show ya somethin – I ain't gonna do anything, I just want ta show ya something." He said softly.

"Okay." She pushed him away and sat up. The sun was still out – and they were both sober – sort of. She looked down at the jeans and shirt she'd worn to cut his hair – she was still covered in it.

"Change – good idea – I itch."

"Twenty minutes – meet me in the garage." She hurried out of the room. She didn't know what brought about this change – but she was glad to see him smiling again.