The First Time Ever I Kissed Your Mouth
He was slowly remembering what he considered the 'alternate' timeline. Vaguely at first, an outline of his own recollections supporting what Victor and Charles had told him. And then in more detail. And finally, he'd found one of his favorite memories. The first time he'd really kissed Marie.
Of course, a few things had led up to that. Things he had begun remembering in more detail as well. Jean had helped him in that base, 'found a piece of his past and gave it back to him' as she'd said.
He'd gone searching for that past. Of course, he hadn't gotten too far before Victor caught up to him. His older brother (well half brother but who really cared about that?) had tackled him, gotten Logan's claws in his belly and simply growled and reminded him of who was older and smarter.
Logan hadn't even known what he was going to say until it came out of his mouth, "Yeah but I'm younger I'll catch up to you someday." He didn't know who'd been more surprised, him or Victor.
But Victor had rallied, "Yeah sure you will runt." He'd glanced down at Logan's claws. "You wanna pull those in and we can figure out where we go from here?"
"We?" Oh, he'd been hella confused.
"Yeah we," Victor rolled his eyes. "Christ Jimmy, I leave you alone for a month so you can do a protection detail while I get some work done in Chicago and you go off the deep end, run all over the fuckin' world and end up in a damn lab. I go lookin' for you and then we're both in a fuckin' lab."
"I did?" Confused didn't even begin to cover how he'd felt. Confused and cold. But then he was only wearing a pair of jeans cut off at the knees and there was snow on the ground.
"And lost your memory," Victor had sighed, so long suffering, as if Logan had done all of it on purpose just to aggravate him. It had been so incongruous to the situation that Logan's claws had retracted. "Well, there's that at least. Thanks." The last had come out so dryly that Logan had nearly laughed. "C'mon. We get movin' we'll stay warmer. And I'll try to explain what the hell happened to us. What I know at least.
It had been a helluva story. Kind of a shock to find out he was over a century old (at least). When he'd asked how old they were Victor had shrugged and told him that babies born on the frontier didn't usually have birth certificates. But that the two of them had been around and hit adulthood at least forty years before the French an' Indian war. Clearly figuring out their exact age hadn't been high on the list of priorities.
When they'd hit civilization (such as it was) in the form of a logging operation Victor had snuck in and stolen them both some clothes and found a couple pairs of boots too. When they'd gotten themselves decently covered (by human standards anyway) they'd followed their noses to the kitchen and stolen enough food to fuel up the healing portion of their mutations. And they'd hit the road again, only this time they'd stolen a truck.
They'd ditched it when they got to a larger town. Logan had watched, a bit bemused, as Victor had quite deftly stolen money out of a couple cash registers while the operators had been otherwise occupied. The town wasn't so large that people were paranoid about theft, leaving counters unmanned to fetch stock from storage.
Victor had wanted to pick a couple pockets, but Logan had shaken his head. He hadn't known exactly why but the idea of taking a wallet out of a woman's purse, not knowing if that was all the money she had to feed her kids for the week, made him feel (and he felt ridiculous saying it) squirmy inside.
Something about that phrasing had softened the hard line of Victor's jaw and he'd patted Logan's shoulder. "Same old runt," He chuckled softly. "You always were terrible about saying what you felt."
Logan had sighed, relieved, and Victor had come up with the idea of taking cash from a grocery store. Not as well guarded as a bank. He'd gone through three registers, taking the tens and twenties and the larger bills kept under the coin bins.
It hadn't been a fortune, but it had been enough to get them a lot farther south (once they'd stolen another car). While they drove, Victor did his best to fill him in one their past, including some of the knock down drag out fights they'd had. His older brother had freely admitted that his moral compass was a little skewed and they'd separated for a while because Logan had his hackles up and Victor wouldn't back down. They'd only reconnected about ten years before Logan had been doing his protection job.
"Huh," Logan hadn't been feeling too articulate. "So, where're we goin'?"
"Chicago," Victor had replied promptly. "We've got business there."
"What kind?" Logan hadn't understood Victor's smirk.
"Our business Jimmy," His brother, and yeah when he was looking for it, he could see some resemblance, had shrugged. "That's where I was during your protection detail. Set up a business a while before that. Security and shit. Nobody knows how to find the holes in a system better than we do. Got a whole company built around it. Gotten even more interesting with all the computers they've got now. That's what I was doing when we were separated. Setting up a new division for cyber security."
"Uh huh," Logan had been trying to remember what he knew about computers. "I don't think I'm gonna be a lotta help with that."
"You'd be surprised," Victor had shrugged at him. "Our instincts…we're hunters Jimmy. Predators. It's in our nature to try to find a weakness. A way to get what we want or need."
Weirdly enough Victor had been right. Logan had an eye for problems, shifts in patterns that led to a weakness to exploit. He'd actually had fun with their testing division. A whole branch devoted to poking holes and finding blind spots in the security systems the company developed. It had been his idea to offer that service as part of their company's skill set. Of course, he'd swiped the idea from a goofy movie 'Sneakers' but that didn't mean it wasn't a good idea.
Victor had loved it. Because they were actively proving that they were better than the competition. And while he still really liked a good fight, he'd also tried focusing those predatory instincts towards the business with fairly good results. He'd smirked at Logan and commented that cutthroat wasn't just for killers anymore. Logan had nearly snorted coffee through his nose at that one.
And about eight or nine years after that the two of them had decided they needed a sabbatical from the company. They had a CEO and CFO and a board, so it wasn't like they had to be there constantly. And they weren't. Some of the protection details needed their special touch.
Of course, most of the people who knew that Victor Creed and James Logan Howlett were the men who'd started the company back in the late sixties had died or retired. As far as most people in the company knew, the owners were a couple of old men. The Victor and Jimmy who came into the offices were what Victor called 'troubleshooters' or 'fixers' or 'floaters' for some reason the staff liked the last term the best. Within the company they were autonomous, coming and going as they pleased. Mobile phones made it easy to stay in touch.
They'd done something similar a few times, when Logan got a flash of memory and told his brother about it. Victor would nod, go away for an hour or two to think, and then come back and tell Logan what he recalled that might match the memory. Then they'd go see if he was right. Their chances were usually seventy/thirty in favor of it but now and then it was a bust. The trips were still kinda fun though.
Cage fighting. That had sent them north, to a circuit Victor recalled. It was a crap shoot which side of the border they were on any given day but a camper truck and trailer for the nights a motel wasn't available kept them pretty comfortable.
Logan had found the fights to be a lot of fun. He had to keep control of his claws and make it look good because a healing mutation gave him kind of an unfair advantage. Victor had just rolled his eyes. He'd tried the fights once and quit after three matches telling Logan, "Jimmy, it feels too much like I'm playin' with my food. I wanna do that I'll go trollin' for muggers on the docks." Considering they were close to Lake Superior he'd have plenty of ground to choose from.
Laughlin City was…optimistically named. More of a truck stop with several seedy bars, motels and a few stores, at least two out of three being liquor stores. Not that he minded that much. He enjoyed the taste of a good bourbon or scotch just as much as the next man. Always assuming the next man was Victor.
Victor had taken one look at the motels available, and his nose wrinkled visibly. "Fastidious cat," Logan teased.
"Hell, you'd lie down on anything Jimmy, so long as it had some give to it," Victor had teased back. "I've seen you cuddle up to shag carpet."
"Don't knock shag carpet," Logan shook his head. Contrary to what Victor was implying, he did have standards. And a mattress infested with fleas (or worse, bedbugs) did not meet them.
"So, camper," Victor arched an eyebrow at him, and Logan had nodded.
"Seems like a safer bet."
"I'll grab some supplies while you have fun with the fights," His brother had strolled off and Logan chuckled, heading for the bar with the cage.
He'd gotten a little distracted during the last fight, the door to the bar opened and the scent of orange blossoms blew in with the cold breeze. As a result, he'd taken a couple of punches he hadn't intended to, but that was okay, he could give better than he got.
"You want something new, honey? Or are you sticking with water?" The bartender (a real piece of work that one) asked a small figure a few seats down. The TV blared news coverage of some big deal happening on Ellis Island with a bunch of world leaders. Idiots. Way too many ways that could go wrong even without a breach in security. But the TV drowned out whatever the reply was to the bartender's question.
Logan did notice that the man pulled the tip jar closer to the center of the bar though. Of course, some people just couldn't leave bad enough alone, they had to push. All he wanted was to wind down, have a beer and wait for Vic to show up with the supplies. But this idiot…
"You owe me some money," The moron who'd tried to punch him in the balls was blustering.
At least his pal had some sense, "Stu, let's not do this."
The moron did seem capable of a little deductive reasoning, not that Logan would say so, it might blow his cover as a Neanderthal, "No man takes a beating like that without a mark to show for it."
"Come on, this isn't worth it," Stu's pal cajoled.
Stu just kept on though, "l know what you are."
Good grief. He just wanted a damn beer. And maybe find out what was up with Orange Blossom down at the end of the bar. His response came out in a snarl, "You lost your money. You keep this up, you lose something else."
He turned back to his beer and Orange Blossom screamed, "Look out!" Fear overtook her other scents and that shouted just as loudly to his senses. A glance back and the gleam of a knife in Stu's hand, instinct took over, claws and rage, the barrel of a gun pressed to his skull behind his ear. That wasn't exactly a way to calm him down.
"Get outta my bar, freak!"
Fear. Everyone in the bar terrified, including Orange Blossom. Fuck. Pull the claws back in. Time to go. Even if he did hate leaving Orange Blossom without even getting to talk to the girl. Pretty face. Old eyes.
Victor was loading the back of the camper with their supplies and gave him a look, "Problem?"
"What's another word for ignorant hicks?" Logan asked as he secured the tarp on the trailer.
"Rednecks, yokels…" Victor smirked as he shut one of the doors. "Bumpkin…uh…" His smirk grew even more wicked as he quoted, "The common folk, salt of the earth…you know…morons."
Logan snorted out a laugh and shook his head as he climbed in the front of the truck, "You wanna nap?"
"Yeah, you think you can drive for a couple hours," Victor climbed into the rear of the camper and stretched out on the upper bunk. They'd flipped for the lower one and Logan had lost, putting him on the upper bunk. Then he'd tried to sleep on it and the alarming creaks under his weight had Victor pulling him off it and pushing him to the lower bunk. He'd muttered something about not getting crushed to death in his sleep as he'd climbed to the upper bunk.
"I can handle it," Logan, chuckling still, shut the cab door and started the engine.
They'd only gotten a few miles down the road when he noticed the tarp on the trailer flapping in the wind. "God damnit," He pumped the brakes until the camper came to a halt.
"Whatsit?" Victor grumbled half waking.
"Tarp's loose. Hang on; I got it," Logan shook his head as he climbed down and hustled through the snow to fasten the tarp down again, a scent blowing through the air with the wind, orange blossoms. Pull the tarp back and God damnit… "What the hell are you doin'?" She'd freeze.
"I'm sorry. l needed a ride," She looked down. "I thought…l thought you might help me."
"What made you think that?" Did he look like a soft touch or was she just that desperate?
"I'm…" She looked down, and he caught a whiff of shame in her scent.
"You're like me," He nodded. "Well, c'mon Orange Blossom." He extended a hand and she put her gloved one in it.
Nerves as he helped her into the cab of the camper, "Seatbelt." He jerked his head at the straps and climbed in his side. Driving through the snow wasn't his favorite but he managed. Aiming the vents at her so the heat would hopefully counteract the effects of several miles travel under a tarp seemed the right thing to do.
"You don't have anything to eat, do you," God she sounded so damn timid.
"Here," Victor handed up a bag of jerky and Orange Blossom jumped about a mile in her seat. Logan grabbed it and handed it to her. She took off her gloves carefully, left them in her lap rather than tuck them into her pockets. And ate a piece of jerky like it was the finest steak. He could hear her stomach growl in reaction.
"My name's Rogue," She offered quietly. And he found himself tongue-tied, he heard Victor huff a quiet cat laugh in the back. Luckily with a little food in her stomach she seemed to get a bit of her nerve back, "Were you in the army?" She nodded at his tags, "Doesn't that mean you were in the army?"
"Both were," Victor told her. "But that's not where the tags are from." Logan heard him turn over in his bunk so he could look at the girl, "I'm Sabretooth. You might've noticed my little brother's a man of few words."
That got a little smile out of her between bites of jerky. Logan kept an eye on her, noticing her shiver as she finished eating. "Put your hands on the heater," He reached out to tug her fingers closer to the vents and repressed his whine of disappointment when she jerked away with a gasp. "I'm not gonna hurt you, kid."
She shook her head, "lt's nothing personal." Dark eyes, pain filled, "lt's just when people touch my skin, something happens."
"What?" 'Something' was pretty vague after all. And sometimes when mutations manifested, they hurt like hell. His sure had.
"l don't know. They just get hurt," She shook her head.
"Fair enough," He nodded. He couldn't blame her for not wanting to hurt people.
A few more miles and she looked at him full on for the first time since he'd helped her out, "When they come out, does it hurt?" And he felt those eyes like a jolt to his chest. In his memory, no one had ever asked. They assumed, or they didn't care, but they didn't ask.
"Every time." He glanced at her, "So what kind of a name is Rogue?"
She shrugged, a tiny smile tugging at her lips, "l don't know, what kind of a name is Wolverine?" She seemed to recall Victor's presence and glanced back, adding courteously, "Or Sabretooth?"
He could smell Victor's amusement, "My name's Logan." He jerked his thumb back at Victor, "That's Victor. He calls me Jimmy because he's my big brother and so far, I can't stop him."
"Marie," She smiled wider and added, "You should wear your seat belt."
He was about to turn and look at her and tell her he was a grown man who didn't need to be lectured on vehicle safety.
And then everything went to shit. Thank fuckin' God for Vic, cutting Marie out of the seatbelt even with his coat on fire.
Waking up with metal walls around him and someone trying to shove a needle in his arm gave him such a bad flashback that he tried to take the doctor hostage before Victor calmed him down.
And of course, that woke up the nightmares. Even in a room with wood paneling and a soft mattress rather than a steel table and walls. Green liquid around him, black lines on his skin, marking where they'd put the metal in, gas masked figures around, blurred people in front of a white light farther away. A hand on his shoulder and he startled awake with a growl, claws out.
Orange blossom, blood, a soft cry of pain, and he was staring at Marie's face in shock. "Help…" He pulled his claws back, what had he done? "Vic!" Marie stumbled and he grabbed for her waist, afraid to let her fall.
Victor, thank God for his hearing, burst into the room, light from the hall spilled through the doorway, "Shit, Jimmy."
And then Marie's hand touched his face, soft skin like a benediction, and a hot sweet sting began to burn through his body. Tired…so tired… losing his mind because he swore he saw the wounds on her skin heal.
"Okay, okay Rogue, ease back," Victor's voice, calm, soothing…the fear in the air fading.
"I pass out, she's healed up," Logan glanced at his brother to confirm that.
"Yeah, good as new, though I think she's learned that touching your shoulder ain't the way to get you out of a nightmare," Victor confirmed.
"And now she's gone," Logan looked at Cyclops and Storm with a frown.
"Well that's what happens when you let the rumor mill run wild and kids act like she's gonna suck the life out of 'em through two layers of fabric from five feet away," Victor snarled.
"We didn't let—"
Logan growled, not caring about the teacher's justifications, "A school full of mutant kids and they managed to make her feel like a pariah? The fuck?" He looked at the Professor, "Incapable of physical human contact, probably for the rest of her life. And yet here she is with others her own age, learning, being accepted, not feared." He could smell the telepath's shock as Logan repeated to him exactly what he'd said about Rogue after he'd woken up.
"Incapable," Victor rolled his eyes as they headed for the SUVs. "She's not incapable. Take a few precautions Jimmy and you'll be able to court her just fine."
"Court her," Cyclops echoed the words in shock.
"Hank where's Raven," Charles asked the furry blue mutant.
"Still in the city," The mutant, aptly called Beast, replied. "I can call her?"
"No, not yet," Charles shook his head.
"Wait, what do you mean court her," Cyclops persisted.
"Don't know much about ferals do you," Victor shook his head. "That's his girl."
"Doesn't seem like the sort of thing his brother should be stating," Storm, soft voiced and courteous but she was three times as dangerous as Cyclops or Beast. And if Logan knew his brother at all Victor found that hot as hell.
"He's a little more worried about getting her back," Victor told the weather witch flirtatiously. "Just like I would be if my woman was in the same position."
"Your woman?"
Logan climbed in the driver's seat, "Vic, you an' Storm get in the back, so you can keep flirting with your woman."
"His woman," Cyclops squawked, and Logan shook his head.
"Boy, do you ever do anything besides repeat what men say?"
"That was a brave thing you did," Jean told him as he sat up.
Brave didn't mean shit if it didn't work and so far, he hadn't heard if it had. Throughout the entire shit show that had been the few days since he'd found Marie on the train, he'd been terrified. He remembered Mystique meeting them in New York, remembered Victor dealing with the sonofabitch who'd tried to kill them up north. He remembered Marie, limp and lifeless in his arms, terror and pain, pressing his lips to her forehead, and after that…nothing.
It looked like Jean wasn't going to put an end to his suspense no matter how long he waited. Felt like his heart was in his throat, "Did it work?"
"Yeah," Jean nodded. "She's fine. She took on a few of your more charming personality traits for a while. But we lived through it. l think she's a little taken with you." A little smug smile. Obviously thought that Rogue was a silly little girl with a crush on a grown man. A grown man Jean likely thought was interested in her. Yeah sure, he'd looked her up and down, he'd done the same with Storm until Victor had growled slightly. Victor wouldn't do that with just anyone which meant hands off Storm.
"Well," He felt as if he'd been brawling with Victor. "It's pretty fuckin' mutual." He took a breath and felt for his tags. Good. Still around his neck.
"Oh," An arch of a red eyebrow and a skeptical look. "Well, she's a sweet little girl."
"Yeah," Logan grinned. "She is. My girl." He pulled on his shirt and boots, "Where is she?"
"I think she's in the rec center with Bobby and John," Jean informed him coolly.
"Thanks," He nodded on his way out. Someday she'd probably be a good friend, but right now her ego was bruised, and she likely wasn't feeling too friendly.
Charles caught him before he got there, and he guessed the conversation wasn't too terrible. He confirmed a few things, and clarified others, and made some suggestions for Logan's next search into his past. Likely Victor would have some more insights.
He could hear Rogue's laughter, the lower laughs of the boys Jean had mentioned. And the rumble of Victor's voice and Storm's exotic accent beside it. So, Vic wasn't wasting any time. Good for him.
He paused in the doorway and looked around, finding his girl playing foosball with another girl against the two boys. A wide lock of white streaked back from her forehead, drawing attention to the darkness of her hair and eyes. Those eyes glanced up and saw him, and he grinned when they lit up and she abandoned the game.
"Logan," He very happily opened his arms and caught her when she leapt into them, holding her tightly and inhaling the scent of her hair. Orange blossom.
"Marie," He murmured her name. "Darlin' how're you doin', really?"
"I'm okay," She flicked white hair out of her face and smiled, "I kinda like it."
"You're beautiful," He smiled down at her. "Remind me of how old you are darlin'?"
"Be sixteen in three months," That pretty mouth, lush lips, smiled up at him.
Reluctantly he loosened his arms and let her slip out of them. "Then in three months I'll be back."
"l don't want you to go," She admitted softly.
"I'll be back," He took off his tags and put them around her neck. "This is my promise."
He'd kept his promise, extracting the exact day of her birth before he left, and he'd kept track of the days religiously so he could be back on the day. Victor got a kick out of teasing him, saying he had ants in his pants. But then Victor wasn't exactly dragging his feet to go back to Xavier's either. And his tags were also absent.
Apparently, Marie hadn't told anyone else her birthday, though it was a safe bet Xavier knew. Marie was in class when they got back. But that was okay. He'd thrown his bag into his room and gone to find her, following the scent of orange blossom and ending up in the garden when classes ended. Spring coming and a few optimistic perennials were poking out of the cold ground when he rounded a corner and saw her on a bench with a book.
He'd noticed she favored soft scarves to wrap around her throat and gloves that covered her above the elbows. So, he'd picked up a few things he thought she might like. Lord knew he and Vic had the money. "Hey darlin'," Damn he loved the smile that lit up her face.
"Logan!" She didn't quite shriek, he guessed she'd been talking to Hank about how sensitive a feral's hearing could be. "Ya'll're back?"
"Yeah," He grinned and picked her up as she hugged him. "How're you doin' darlin'?"
"I'm doin' okay… skin's still stuck on," She shook her head. "Kinda depressin', thinkin' my first kiss is also likely to be my last."
"I got some ideas about that," He wound a lock of her hair around his finger. "Got you a couple presents." He'd had to let go of her to hand her the bag with the boxes inside it.
"You didn't hafta get me presents, just you comin' back is a good gift," She beamed up at him and he felt about ten feet tall.
"I make a promise, I keep it," He tapped the tags where they lay over her shirt.
"You want 'em back?" She paused in her meticulous unwrapping of the first box.
"Nope," Logan shook his head. "Not unless you want to give 'em back. If you don't like what they mean."
She focused on the box for a moment, peeling the paper back and tugging the top of it off. A scarf of the sheerest, softest white silk, long enough and wide enough to cover the length and width of her body if she chose. "Logan…" She breathed his name as she looked at the scarf before she looked up at him, "What do your tags mean?"
"Means I'm yours," He could be honest with her. "Means I'm always gonna be yours. Might look at other women, kinda the way you look a scenery or art. But it means that I belong to you." He looked down for a minute, "Even if you decide that you don't want to be mine. Even if you die. I'll still be yours." He looked at her again, "And if you want to wear them, it means you're mine. My girl."
Her hand fisted around the tags like he'd take them from her, "I wanna wear them." Those eyes of hers, she'd kill him with those eyes, and he'd die happy. "I wanna be your girl."
He'd picked up the scarf and draped it over her face like a veil, "Probably I'm supposed to wait until you're eighteen to do this. But I don't think your first kiss should be your last darlin'." He let his palms cup her face, the heat of his skin seeping through the silk, her eyelids drooping with pleasure at the sensation of being touched. "This okay?"
"Yes, please, Logan," Marie whispered. "I want this…"
So did he, and he wasn't going to wait anymore, pressing his lips to hers, sweet and hot even through the thin layer of silk. And all he wanted was more, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her into his lap, letting her straddle him while he took that beautiful mouth.
Finally, finally, he pulled back and pressed his forehead to hers, both of them breathing hard. The scent of their want filled his nose, her body hot against his and he forced his hands to loosen on her back. "God," He nearly cursed but she was a lady, and he was trying to remember to curb his language. "Oh darlin'," He smiled at her slightly dazed expression. "I know someday we won't need the scarf. You'll figure out how to turn your skin off eventually. And I can wait." He traced her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, "We've got the scarf until then." He nodded at the other package, "Got you some gloves made of the same silk. And some for me too. Just in case."
"Logan what if I… what if I can't?" Fear. Lots of fancy words for it. Trepidation, nerves, apprehension… but they all boiled down to fear. Fear that if she didn't get control of her skin, he'd lose interest.
He pressed his mouth to hers gently, "It's a big scarf Marie. And I'm a patient man. I've already thought of a couple different ways around your skin. Scarfs, gloves, condoms… You're not even eighteen yet darlin'. And I will never stop being yours."
Logan looked down at Marie, sleeping against his shoulder. Tests always took a lot out of her. And finals even more so. Everybody got wound up and they freaked out about her skin more easily which exhausted her. And that made her control over it more tenuous.
Not around him though. She'd turned seventeen and with Xavier's help, delving into her subconscious, they'd figured out her skin triggered when she felt unsafe, when she got scared. With him she knew she was safe. She knew he'd die to protect her. She could trust that he'd tell her when to run and when to stand and fight.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and smiled. Now that she was seventeen maybe they'd revisit that discussion about getting to second base. That was a talk for tomorrow.
For now, he'd sit and enjoy the feel of her sleeping so trustingly against him and listen to the song that always made him think of her.
'And the first time ever I kissed your mouth…I felt the earth move in my hand…like the trembling heart of a captive bird…that was there at my command, my love…that was there at my command, my love…'
Author's Note: I started to think about the rest of the song and how Logan might start to get memories of what he considers the alternate timeline. He'd never be able to forget the one he lived through but he wouldn't be totally dependent on what other people have told him happened. And getting the memories of Rogue back would be some of the most important.