Disjointed images of labs and helicopters and explosions filled my mind as Wolverine roared at me to get behind Logan. He would take the brunt of the explosion, and I would survive, but I needed to move, move, MOVE right this fucking inst—
I shifted in Logan's lap so that I straddled him instead and cupped his face in my hands. "It's not going to explode!"
Wolvie, calm down, yah have to calm down!
"It's alrahght, Logan. The buzzing jus' means our table is ready." I whispered.
People had started to look our way when Logan set me in his lap, and now that I was straddling him, they outright stared at us. I ignored them the best I could and rubbed my thumbs in circles along Logan's muttonchops, concentrating on calming him down. Maybe if I could get through to him, my Wolverine would follow his lead. I looked into his eyes until the gold faded, and I felt his jaw unclench beneath my hands.
My bare hands, that he hadn't even flinched from.
"Logan, table for two?"
Logan looked a lot less freaked now, and Wolvie had abruptly faded to absolute silence. I decided the best thing I could do was just act like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, nothing to see here, move along people. Logan got up just behind me and slung his arm around my shoulders as we followed the hostess to our table. People were whispering all around us, but I kept my head held high with Southern pride.
Until I spotted Daren and his friends at bar. They looked over at us and snickered like seventh graders, then suddenly turned pale and found their drinks very interesting. I looked up at Logan, but he was staring straight ahead. He couldn't quite pull off the innocent look though. I doubted he had been innocent a single day in his life and had to fight down another blush at the thought.
The hostess asked if a table was okay, and Logan said something that got us a booth instead. They said a bit more, the usual "your server will be right with you," but I wasn't paying attention. I searched my head, seeking out Wolverine's voice. I had never deliberately gone looking for one of the voices in my head, never thought not hearing one could cause such panic.
Wolverine...? Wolvie...please don't leave...
...I'm here, kit. Sorry I scared ya, kit.
His voice sounded almost sheepish, but at least I could hear his voice again. It's fahne, Wolvie. Not yeh fault.
I could tell he wasn't convinced, but he didn't argue either. And I still needed to make things right with Logan. He hadn't asked for me to dump my sob story on him like that, especially right before the birthday dinner he was giving me.
"Ah'm sorry."
"What?"
"Yeh doing something really nice for meh, and Ah'm jus' sitting here feeling sorry for mahself. Ah don't know what's wrong with meh today." I said.
And I meant it, really. It wasn't Logan's fault at all that I was getting all emotional over this being my first birthday since my parents kicked me out. And maybe I had started the day out hoping to just get it over with, but I really did appreciate the new clothes, and I loved Outback.
"Not a damn thing."
I had gotten so caught up in my own thoughts that it took me several seconds to register what Logan said. And then I just stared at him blankly.
"What?"
"There's not a damn thing wrong with ya, kid."
And to my eternal horror, my brilliant response was to start crying. The emotional stress of the day caught up with me, triggered by such an impossibly sweet statement. He didn't even say it like he was trying to be nice, he just acted like it was a plain fact.
"Kid, Marie...don't..."
Finally I pulled myself out of my teenage angst to notice how distressed Logan looked at my sudden crying fit.
"No, no." I mumbled, pulling my hand away from my mouth and attempting to regain some of my composure. "Ah'm okay, Ah'm sorry, Ah'm jus'...Ah think that's the nah-cest thing anyone's evah said tah meh."
"Damn kid, what kinda shit people ya been around?" Logan growled.
I winced. "Mah parents were religious."
"Oh."
I had to laugh at his immediate look of disgust when I said religious. At least I wouldn't have to worry about him dragging me to church services.
"Yeah. Oh." I repeated, mimicking his sneer.
A waiter appeared, interrupting our conversation. "Hi, my name is Jeremy, I'll be your server, and I—oh, are you alright, miss?"
"Ah'm fine. Allergy season, yah know?" I said, hoping he would just drop it.
"Oh yeah. I mean, I don't know, but I have friends who have allergies. If you want, I can see if I can find you some Benedryl or—"
"She said she's fine." Logan cut in with a growl.
I tried to concentrate on keeping my smile in place. I heard once that when you smiled, it released some sort of chemicals in your brain that mimicked happiness. So you could literally fake it until you made it. At least Jeremy had turned to address Logan instead, giving me some much appreciated time to pull myself together.
I heard Logan dig into the poor kid about the lack of Molson's, but I was too far gone into my quiet place to really pay attention. My quiet place didn't have any particular features, just empty whiteness extending in all directions. Like a blank canvas. Wolverine trotted over to where I sat and laid his head in my lap but didn't say anything. I idly scratched behind his ears and focused on just breathing for a bit.
"And you, miss?"
Jeremy's voice brought me back, but I had left all my sadness in that quiet place, where it couldn't hurt me. It was just another sad painting in my head, and I smiled like it had never even happened in the first place.
"Ah'll have an ah-ced tea, with a slah-ce of lemon, please." I ordered.
Well, alright. Perhaps my accent gave it away, but my drawl always did get thicker when I got emotional.
"Yeah, I'll have that right out." Jeremy said, practically running away from our table.
Maybe I should have paid more attention to what Logan said to him. But then again, it didn't take much from Logan to scare people, and he used it to his advantage. Too bad for him I knew he had a gummy bear soft center.
"Yah could jus' bah a cooler an' keep a pack of Molson's in there." I remarked.
I just wanted to keep the conversation going. It helped keep me focused on Logan and food and happy things. Logan didn't answer though, so I looked up at him to see what was wrong. He looked like he'd just been struck by lightning, eyes wide and mouth slightly hanging open. I laughed again, and this time it sounded almost real. He recovered pretty quickly and grinned at me.
"You want your own thing?" He asked me, eyeing the menus laying on our table.
I just hummed and picked up a menu. I usually just ate off of his plate since he ordered enough to feed enough to feed a herd of elephants. But he'd probably want steak, which wasn't really my thing. The baby back ribs actually looked really good, and they came with Aussie fries.
"Ah figured yah'd get steak..." I waited for Logan to nod, then continued. "But Ah'm thinking 'bout the baby back ribs. That alrahght?"
"Get whatever. S'your birthday." Logan said, shrugging.
I gave him a grateful smile and glanced back at the menu to be sure of my choice. I started fiddling with Logan's tags with my free hand, and when I look back up at him, he was staring.
"Yah don't mind, do yah? 'Cause Ah can jus' keep 'em somewhere else if ya—"
Logan's growl interrupted me as I started to take the tags off. A similar growl echoed in my head from Wolvie, and I slowly lowered the tags back to my neck.
Yer ours, kitling. We marked ya.
Marked. Like Logan wanted everyone who saw me to know I was his pack-mate. The thought almost put another smile on my face.
"Or Ah could keep them on." I said.
Logan winced. "Shit kid, I didn't meanta snarl at ya like that."
"No, Ah..." I shook my head and stopped to think. "When people get angry, they say mean things. Yah've yelled an' growled some, but yah ain't never been cruel. Yeh a lot better than yah think."
Before Logan had a chance to reply, if he was going to reply, Jeremy reappeared at our table.
"One iced tea with a lice of lemon and one um, water. Here's your bread, sorry for the delay." He said, setting our drinks and a hot loaf of bread in front of us.
I double checked my menu, as if the food available would change. I guess it was just one of those things people did in restaurants, like needlessly pointing at the description when they ordered.
"Ah think we're ready to order now." I said slowly, looking back up to check with Logan. "Right, sugah?"
Logan grinned at me. "Yeah."
"Alright, what can I get for you?" Jeremy asked.
"Steak."
We both waited for him to elaborate, and he stared back at us. Between making the reservation and thinking the buzzer would explode, I got the sense that this wasn't the type of place Logan usually ate at, if he had ever ate at a nice restaurant like this before.
"He'll have the..." I paused and did the pointing thing, unable to help myself. "...eight ounce rib-ah steak...hmm...medium rare. Yah want a sah-de?"
"Can I get more steak?" He asked, completely serious.
I mimicked his earlier grin. "No, sugah. Alrahght if Ah steal it then?"
"S'fine."
I looked over my options until something caught my eye. "A sweet potato with honey butter an' brown sugah."
Score!
"And do you want soup or salad?" Jeremy asked, scribbling in his notebook.
"Fuck if I care, I just want my goddamn steak." Logan huffed.
"Please ignore him. He jus' gets a bit cranky without his Molson's." I cut in before poor Jeremy started crying. "The Ceasar salad will be fahne. An' Ah'll have the baby back ribs."
"I'll have that right out." Jeremy squeaked.
I almost managed to feel sorry for him, but then I had bread, and I kind of just forgot. Logan could have been more polite, but from the way Wolvie behaved in my head, I thought the lack of mauling meant he actually did fairly well. Especially if this was his first time out in a nice restaurant. I finished my bread, but Logan didn't really seem inclined to talk anymore. Maybe he just needed a little break from how "talkative" he had been lately.
I started fiddling with my straw out of boredom and tore the end off of the wrapper. I bit back a childish grin and pun the exposed end of the straw in my mouth, pretending it was a cigarette. Logan always smelled like smoke, but I had yet to actually catch him smoking. Maybe he just manufactured the smell from his sheer levels of testosterone. I giggled at the thought, and the air I exhaled blew the wrapper off the straw.
And it smacked into Logan's forehead. Direct hit. He gaped at me in a perfect expression of utter shock. I tried desperately to smother another fit of the giggles, but his slack jawed expression was too much. I dissolved into laughter that shook my whole body and tipped over sideways in my booth while he glared and huffed at me. When I sat back up, he had his arms crossed.
"Ah am so sorry, sugah." I whispered, nearly choking on my barely suppressed laughter.
"Liar." He pouted.
He tried to glare at me after that, but the sight of him pouting just made me grin, although I did manage to stop giggling. Then we somehow ended up in an impromptu staring contest, which wasn't fair in the slightest, because his dark hazel eyes were just too intense to look away from.
"Does he still talk to ya?" He asked.
I looked away. I didn't have to ask who "he" was. But I nodded and tried to practice my sounding casual voice.
"A lot. He hasn't faded like the...um, the others."
I didn't really mind talking about Wolverine because he was a voice that we both shared, and I actually—selfishly—thought that was really cool. I'd never met anyone before who knew what it was like to have a voice in your head.
"Sorry, kid. If he's been sayin'..." Logan trailed off and cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"He doesn't talk about yah." I rushed to reassure him, shaking my head emphatically. "Not 'bout any of yah memories, yah family or women...nothin'. An' Ah don't ask. Ah won't evah...if yah want me tah know, yah'll tell meh."
Logan didn't reply. But since he had brought up the subject of Wolverine, I had a question of my own that I'd been dying to ask.
"Do Ah...Ah know yah said yah wouldn't leave, but...he still knows we're pack mates, rahght?" I asked.
"Yeah."
Course we're still fuckin' pack mates, kit.
I breathed a sigh of relief and realized I had been gripping his tags without even knowing it.
"Did he say something...different?" Logan asked.
His question surprised me, and I looked at him for a moment before I answered. "No, it's jus'...mah Wolverine is different from yeh Wolverine, an' Ah don't know what yeh Wolverine is thinking."
"Your Wolverine?" He leaned forward and studied me, and I tried not to flush under his stare.
"They ain't the same."
He kept the same blank stare on his face, and I tried to think of how to explain it to him.
"Ah got mah Wolvie when Ah touched yah back. But it's not lahke Ah can read yah mahnd, an' mah Wolvie can't talk to yahs. So if something changes in yah head, if yah Wolvie thinks something different, mah Wolvie won't know an' neither will Ah." I paused, then repeated, "They ain't the same."
I hoped that made it a bit clearer for him, because that was the best explanation I could come up with. Jeremy came back to our table, once again cutting off any reply Logan might have made. He at least came carrying food though, even if it was only a salad. He tried to set it next to Logan, who eyed it the same way some people might look at a wet dog turd. I commandeered it, gave Jeremy a brief nod, then dug in. It had to be six already, and I hadn't eaten all day. Logan sat in his booth and brooded while I ate, which was fine with me since I was too busy stuffing my face to carry a conversation anyway.
I did still want to keep up his newfound talkative-ness, so when I was done, I asked, "So why do yah lahke hockey?"
"'Cause it ain't a pussy sport."
Oh. Well then. I blushed, but I was really starting to like talking to him, especially about simple things that didn't have to do with feelings and voices and birthdays.
"Lahhhke...?" I questioned, trying to draw him further into the conversation.
He shrugged. "Soccer. Baseball. Nascar."
"Football?"
All I got for that question was an indifferent grunt. Time to try a new tactic.
"Whatcha got against Nascar?" I asked.
"It ain't a sport and driving in circles ain't that hard." He replied.
"Baseball?"
"Nothing fuckin' happens."
"It's American!" I protested.
"I'm Canadian." He deadpanned.
I blushed. You learn something new everyday, I guess. But I didn't really peg Logan as a Canadian. Frankly, I had heard they were supposed to be really nice.
I tried again. "Okay, soccer then."
"Same. And the players are all pussies."
Oh wow, what an enlightening answer. "How?"
"In soccer...players pretend to have injuries. In hockey, they pretend they don't." He explained.
"Lahke that one man who kept playing with a concussion?" I asked, feeling proud of myself for remembering.
He nodded. "Yeah. What are ya always sketching, anyway?"
SHIT. No no no, he couldn't find out about the three whole sketchbooks I had filled with nothing but drawings of him. Mayday, mayday! Abort mission, I repeat, ABORT MISSION!
Jeremy appeared just in time, bringing our food with him. Logan's eyes immediately went to the steak, and all mention of my creeper sketchbooks was forgotten the moment he got it in front of him. I got my ribs and fries and even slid his potato over to my side as well. I almost cried again at the sight of all that beautiful food. And yet, all Logan had was his one steak. I suddenly felt a bit guilty about stealing his side and pushed my plate closer to him.
"If yah want some of mah ribs, we can share. Ah already took yah salad an' sweet potato." I offered.
"Eat what ya want. I'll eat what ya can't." He muttered, already eyeing his next bite of steak.
I smiled and pulled my plate back. Halfway through our meal though, I noticed Logan at the bread like he was trying to figure something out.
"Yah want something, sugah?" I asked.
"Fluffy not-meat." He grunted.
I blinked at him. "...the bread?"
He got really still, so I took pity on him and cut him a slice.
"Here, sugah." I smiled at him when I gave the slice of bread to him, trying to keep things light. "Is that how you see things? Meat, not-meat, an'..."
Leafy shit. Wolvie sneered at the remains of my salad in disgust.
"...leafy shit?"
"Yeah."
"What about sweet stuff?" I asked.
When he didn't reply, I tried one more time, still smiling at him, desperately trying to keep the mood playful.
"Do you like dessert?"
"D'you?" He countered.
"Hell yeah!"
He grinned at me, and I pretended to clear my throat while I thought of how to rephrase that in a more lady-like manner.
"Ah mean...whah yes, Ah do quah-te enjoy chocolate confections." I murmured in my best demure Southern belle voice.
Logan just stared at me blankly and went back to eating. I looked down at my food and tried not to feel too sickly embarrassed. He probably thought I was being stupid and childish or something.
He doesn't think that about ya. He probably jest doesn't know what confections are.
But—
Look at'im, kit. Dumbass barely knows how to use a goddamn fork. I guarantee he ain't in no position to judge ya fer being "stupid."
Yeh so mean, Wolvie. I repeated for the hundredth time. He just snorted.
Logan ended up eating all of his steak and part of my ribs. I was pretty full myself, but I'd been eyeing the dessert menu all night, and I figured I had room for just a little more...
"You want some dessert, kid?" Logan asked me.
Oh thank God he brought it up so I didn't have to ask for it and look fat.
"Yeah! Is there anything yah want?"
"Nah."
"But they have this chocolate cake thing, an'-" I tried to explain.
Logan cut me off. "Ain't you ever heard you're not supposed to give dogs chocolate?"
"Oh. Lahke...ever?" I whispered in horror.
"Don't like it anyway." He replied.
"What?" I gasped.
"I don't like chocolate."
"What?"
"I don't like—"
"What?"
"I do—"
"What?"
"Kid. Stop." He demanded.
I paused and remembered to breathe. "Sorry...Ah...How? Yah poor...Ah'm so sor—nevah...Ah can't...What?"
"You like chocolate?"
I tried to laugh casually, like his question was no big deal, but I ended up nearly hyperventilating halfway through.
"Do yah lahke hockey? Molson's? Steak? Put it all together an' add some sex an' sprinkle it with cocaine, an' yes Logan, Ah lahke chocolate." I finally managed to answer.
Logan grinned at me. "Then tell waiter boy to get you that chocolate cake thing."
I looked around, but Jeremy was busy waiting on another table. "I don't know...Jeremy looks really busy."
Logan made the sharpest whistle I'd ever heard, and Jeremy jumped nearly a foot in the air. I tried to feel sorry for him instead of smile at his reaction. Logan motioned for him to come here, and he ran over to our table.
"Um, yes sir?" He asked.
Logan just looked at me, and Jeremy glanced over in my direction too. I kept my smile plastered on and hoped it looked friendly instead of slightly mocking.
"Can Ah have the Chocolate Thundah from Down Undah?" I asked, doing the pointy thing again at the desert menu.
Jeremy promised to have it out soon and took our plates when he left. Logan and I sat in a semi-awkward silence for a few moments before I got impatient and broke it.
"So yah can't have any of that?" I asked, just to be sure.
"Yeah."
"Good, 'cause Ah ain't sharin'." Then I realized what a brat I sounded like and winced. "Ah mean..."
Logan just grinned. "S'fine kid. Your birthday an' all."
I gave him a grateful smile back and listed off my favorite desserts, just to avoid the awkward silence again. Logan didn't contribute much, but he didn't tell me to shut up either. I had just got done explaining what a Mississippi mud pie was when Jeremy came back with my cake. The conversation died then, and I'm pretty sure Logan might have been staring at me while I ate my dessert, but I was to far gone in chocolate heaven to care. When I finally looked up, plate scraped completely clean, he was staring off into space.
"Logan?"
His eyes focused on me first, and I inclined my head slightly at Jeremy, who stood waiting with the checkbook. Logan took it and opened it, and I suddenly had a miniature panic attack about what he might expect. If he'd never been here before, did he have an idea of how much this was going to cost? But he just whipped out a wad of bills as thick as my fist and put a few in the book right there. Usually people waited for the waiter to leave before they dealt with the bill like that, another one of those nice restaurant things that didn't really make sense.
But Logan just shoved the checkbook back at Jeremy and stood up, practically knocking over the poor boy. I tried to gracefully slide out of my booth the way he had, but it turned into more of a flailing sideways flop as I tried to scoot sideways, and Logan had to come to my rescue and yank me out.
"Ready, kid?" He asked, pulling me against him.
I just squeezed his hand and nodded, too embarrassed to really say anything. He let go of my hand, and I felt a surge of disappointment until he slung his arm over my shoulder instead and guided me away from the table. We passed by the bar again, where Daren and his friends still sat, looking pretty drunk at this point, far too drunk for an Outback at least.
"...her date or her dad?" One of them slurred.
Logan half turned back around with a snarl, but this night had actually turned out really nice, and I didn't want it to get ruined by fight. Even if it would be immensely satisfying to watch him break their faces. I shoved that thought down though and tugged on his arm until he walked out the door with me. He practically radiated anger, and I clutched his waist nervously.
"People say mean things." I mumbled.
"People are shit." He agreed.
"Not alluv 'em."
I gave him a quick one armed hug, but he pulled me closer, so I slipped my other arm around him too.
"Thanks for the birthday, Logan." I whispered to his chest.
"Welcome."
A/N: Okay, confession time: I waited until the last minute to write this and it felt like it took forever. That's what I get for procrastinating though.
If you haven't heard from my author's note in BBW, I GOT PUPPIES! There's a boy and a girl, they're seven weeks old, and were abandoned in a field. If you want to see pictures of their adorable cuteness, you can visit my blog at morganofthefey . wordpress . com.
Also, be extra certain to check in on BBW's next chapter on Monday so you can appreciate all its smutty goodness! I'll put up a sneak preview of it on my blog Thursday...