April 14th, 1912
5: 21pm

Without time to think and figure out what to do, Logan had to rely on instinct. When the door opened slowly, he moved himself so he would be hidden by it.

"Miss Marie?" asked a soft voice. A head of black hair kept tied up by a maid's hat peeked into the room.

"What is it, Jubilee?" Marie asked the Asian calmly, trying to keep her servant's attention focused on her and not on the man hiding behind the door.

"Forgive me, Miss, I thought you'd be asleep. We must hurry to get you ready for dinner, Miss. It is almost five thirty."

The maid stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. It was then she noticed the strange and vicious looking man hiding behind the door. Her brown eyes widened and she stepped back in fear, letting out a startled gasp.

Before she could scream and alert others, Logan moved quickly and silence her with a hand on her mouth, and pushed her back into a chair that was behind her.

"Jubilee, Jubes, listen to me," Marie tried to calm the frightened and practically hyperventilating young woman. "It's alright, he's a friend. He won't hurt us. I know he looks like he would, but he won't, I promise. And he will too if it makes you trust him any more."

When a deadly glare comes natural to you, it's extremely hard to erase it for kinder features. But try he did, just for the sake of not being found out by Marie's family.

"Will you trust him?" she asked, silently pleading with her eyes for the young woman to say yes.

Jubilee nodded her head, causing the hand on her mouth to move with it. Slowly, deliberately, Logan removed the hand, yet was careful in case she decided to take back her agreement.

Not a sound came out as she steadied her breathing. "Oh... Miss Marie... This man should not be in here, what would your parents or fiancé think?"

"They will think nothing, because they will never know. And if they find out, I'll know it was you that told them. I can assure you, we weren't doing anything that would cause my father to disown me or for Graydon to call off the wedding. We were just talking." Which was true. What she didn't add was how much she liked to watch him too.

"But... But then what do we do? Mr. Darkholme is waiting for his wife to be ready out there. We cannot sneak him out, nor can you get ready with him in here."

As if she had anticipated this and planned things ahead, Marie moved towards her closet. She pulled out what she would need, then shoved Logan inside. The damn thing was big enough to fit two people in it comfortably, even with all of Marie's clothes. "No peeking," she declared as she shut the doors in his face.

"Quickly, Jubilee," he could hear Marie saying.

Hardly either of them spoke as he listened to the harsh and careless rustling of her clothes. The only light was the small crack in between the two doors. It was very small, but large enough for him to peek out of without them noticing. He was a man after all, how could he pass up an opportunity such as this to see a rich woman dressed in her underwear?

Chances had it be that Marie always had her back facing him, and that damn maid was always in his way of viewing the mirror they were standing in front of. Logan sighed in disappointment, no good show tonight.

Something surprised him, though. It was how perky Jubilee seemed to be, and the way she would at times just bounce across the room as if she had too much coffee. With her being a personal servant, Logan didn't doubt she was also a mutant. That would explain why she wore gloves, even to do Marie's hair, which had to make it a lot harder to do.

"Logan, you stay hidden until we're gone. Then you can go," she whispered to him once finished.

"Wait," he stopped her with the word. "Meet me at the Castle, Your Highness."

She looked puzzled for a moment before a large smile crossed her features. He could tell she had opted for a dark green that perfectly suited her this time, bringing out more color in her eyes. But she had a type of beauty that you could put her in a barrel and she'd still be breathtaking. Especially if that was all she was wearing.

No... he had to keep his mind out of the gutter, keep it off of her thin frame. Off of the way her cheeks and chest flushed whenever he called her 'darlin'. Off of the way she would sometimes drawl out his name. Even more so off of the way his mind imagined she'd scream it when she came.

It looked like another cold bath for him that night.

She was taken at the moment, and there was something possibly having to do her skin. In time, the first would no longer matter, and whatever the problem was with the latter, he could find a way around it. He might not be the smartest thing going, but he sure was damn creative when he wanted to be.

It must had been a good ten minutes before he realized she and her mutant maid had gone. Not that it was a big deal, it was obvious where they would be. And because of that, Marie wouldn't be in danger from her 'father'.

So Logan took his time in getting out of the closet and to the Forward Castle. Even snooped around in her room for a bit and stole one of her scarves she had worn at some point. It still smelled heavily of her, and the primal part of him growled in current satisfaction.

Off he went to follow her there, stuffing the scarf in one of his pockets. His mind remained in a daze of fantasies until a slightly familiar scent caught his attention. In fact, two familiar scents.

But they weren't strong enough to have been created by the people themselves... no... The scents he detected came off of someone who had recently been near them.

A quick scan around the beautiful Grand Staircase revealed the most likely culprit. One of Erik's people. He was chatting with some rich folk that Logan should have known, but the names escaped him. He was easy to spot with his dead white hair and young features. With a smile that said 'hello' as much as 'You move, you die', he walked up behind the young man.

Pietro didn't acknowledge his presence until something hard was placed against his spine. It was too small to be a gun, yet not sharp enough to be a knife. Nevertheless, it was a weapon of some sort. "May you excuse us?" a gruff voice asked.

Politely, the young couple agreed and continued on their rounds of greetings, leaving Pietro to be escorted by Logan to an unnoticeable spot. From what he had been told, Pietro now knew what was pressed against his spine, and took a single guess as to why he was being targeted.

"Where are they?"

Yep. And he really was as straightforward as he'd heard. "Who?"

The bone against his back pressed in deeper, not enough to cause pain yet, but as a reminder. "Don't play 'beat around the bush' games with me, dickhead. Where are they?"

Okay, so playing that game wasn't the smartest thing to do against a guy with killer bone claws, a bad attitude, and heightened senses. But Pietro was fast, and Logan either chose to ignore that fact, or he didn't know. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The man behind him growled menacingly in his ear. "That's right, bub. Just gimme any excuse to drag you off and slash you in two."

Pietro laughed as he used his powers to get out of the Wolverine's grip and behind him. "That's only if you can catch me, which doesn't look too promising, now, does it?"

Logan whirled around, his face contorted into a snarl. Now facing the public, he couldn't have his claws out, so he put the one back in before he turned. Truth was, Pietro had the upper hand, and they both knew it. What good were claws when you couldn't catch your foe? "You'd better learn to watch your back. Next time, I might not care about witnesses."

"Ooooo," the boy feigned the act of fear. "I'm so afraid, I'm gonna go crawlin' home to mommy. Or better yet, to two available girls."

The beast within him growled, forcing it out of his throat to show his displeasure. Amy could take care of herself just as good as he could, but Jennifer was another story. Since working for Xavier, he had taken a sort of parental instinct with the younger of the two best friends. She hated violence, the thought made her sick, so she couldn't protect herself. Logan took it upon himself to do it for her, and had to on a few occasions.

Now she had been taken, and Logan was torn between helping the girl he thought of as a great friend and daughter, or the woman he barely knew yet was feeling some of the same things for, only deeper. He'd tracked the ship up and down last night, yet still couldn't find a trace of either of them. Erik's people knew what they were doing, and knew it well enough to be able to hide the trail.

Only reason why he wasn't doing it still was that Xavier told him he would be of no help to Jennifer for the time being. Erik had been too clever, and only time would tell them where the girls were. Xavier had also proclaimed that Erik had no intentions of hurting the girls. Of course, he couldn't vouch for the others in Erik's little band.

"If you will excuse me," Pietro declared, with a large amount of sarcasm, "I have a few waiters to speak to."

His beast growled again, and was about to stab the boy anyways, screw the witnesses! A cool hand rested lightly on his arm and his name was spoken softly in order to calm his feral side.

"Logan... we do not need for you to make a scene."

His hazel eyes turned to meet those of a pair of abnormally bright blue. Ororo Monroe squeezed his arm gently. There was something about the exotic woman that held so much calm, so much compassion. She could easily pull Logan out of a minor feral state just by speaking to him in a soothing voice. If there was one person he could declare as his most understanding friend, it was Ororo.

"Have you learned anything?" he asked her, hoping to hear some good news. Like that they had a location and he could go and kick someone's ass.

Ororo shook her head sadly, not a single piece of shocking white hair falling out of place of it's delicate position. "No... Nothing but that at meal time, Pietro always speaks to the waiters to prepare two meals for him to take. At least we know they are being fed."

Despite the situation, Logan couldn't help but snicker. "Of course they're feeding them. Erik knows full well the wraith of a hungry Amy."

The African Goddess took his arm even though he hadn't offered it and smiled a him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Rather like you in the morning without your coffee. You nearly killed Hank when he took the last cup a few weeks ago."

He just shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, it got me the coffee. Whatever works for me, works. Speaking of, why didn't Hank come along?"

"Work. What else? Some of his experiments he could not transport or leave behind, so it will be a couple months before he can join us. Jean is planning on using the vacation to her fullest advantage."

Ahhh, yes. The female doctor. It will never be real in title or on paper, but Jean had proven time and time again to be just as capable as any man. Under secret apprenticeship with Doctor Henry 'Hank' McCoy, she could become their full-time doctor so long as someone else ordered and signed for the supplies.

"I have someplace I have to be, excuse me, Ororo."

"Of course," she nodded in understanding as Logan headed to where he would meet Marie.

April 14th, 1912
6: 37pm

The sun was still out as Logan stood at the very peak of the ship on the Forward Castle deck. The wind was blowing harder than before, which meant they were either going into it, or the ship had sped up since the last time he was outside. Most likely the latter.

Logan leaned against the railing, puffing away on a cigar. His jacket was hanging loosely on him while his shirt was already unbuttoned and free of their confinement inside his pants. The cold had never bothered him before, so the chill in the air certainly wouldn't.

He was actually beginning to doubt that she would show when he heard the light footsteps behind him. Too light to be a man's, and too loud to be that shapeshifting bitch either. One would go for stealth footsteps and take advantage of the direction the wind was blowing.

The gruff man cocked his head so he could peer behind him and view the girl who had come. He was about to make some snide remark about how long she took, but his voice died in his throat.

She was standing, leaning against the railing and desperately tried to read from it instead of casting glances that were caught by him.

She really did look beautiful when her white streak was lit up by the sun and blowing in the wind, even if it made it a different color. The clouds in the sky ranged from the same color of the sun, to a deep purple. Where the sky and ocean met was a guess on anyone's part, it blended so perfectly. A painter couldn't have created a more beautiful piece of artwork than the sight laying before them from Mother Nature.

He watched Marie in silent wonderment. Watched her expression soften as she read, and her face become illuminated beautifully in the red light when she glanced out to the horizon. Logan had never paid attention to sunsets before that moment, but he quickly deemed it something he wanted to experience often, especially with Marie.

The young woman standing before him had never been more relaxed in her life. The setting was more beautiful than anything she had seen before. Her book no longer holding her interest, she replaced it in the folds of her skirt before venturing even closer to him.

The wind nipped at the hair that had broken free, and ravished the loose folds of her dress. She felt so free standing there with the wind riding against her in waves like a lover's gentle caress. A giggle rose from her lips at the childish memories entering her mind, when she used to sneak outside on the roof of her mansion just to view the sunset.

"Aren't you going to tell me why you asked me here?"

On the last bit of his cigar, Logan took one final puff before throwing it to the sea and turning to face her. "Do I really need to? You came, didn't you?"

Her face suddenly saddened. "Yes... But I only came for one thing..."

Logan didn't like that look on her face. It shouldn't be on her face. And the tone in her voice didn't help matters any either. "Like what?"

He watched as Marie took a few deep breaths to center herself. "I... am here to tell you... We can never meet again."

Logan felt as if he had just been slapped in the face. And he had many a time before, but it had never hurt this bad. "What?"

"I am sorry, Mr. Logan. It would be best if we did not see each other for the remainder of the voyage." Her words were harsh yet strained, and hurt her too. She didn't truly want to mean them, someone else was making her say those things to him. Yet it still hurt no less.

Dangerously close to showing her how wrong she was, he settled for just stepping closer. "Is that what you want?"

"I--"

"Because if it is, then I'll grant it," he interrupted. But I'm not going to leave you alone simply because your parents don't approve." He stared into her eyes, daring her to repeat those words to them.

Eyes brimming with tears, she said in a shaky voice, "It is what I want."

"Bullshit! It's not, and I can tell!" One more step and he was as close as he could be without physically touching her. She flinched back, but it didn't stop him. "Don't throw your life away because of them. You aren't their slave, you are a grown woman free to make her own choices in life."

"No, I'm not." Not wanting him to see the tears, she turned to face the water. "Just go..." she whispered.

"Fine," was all he replied with before turning on his heel and leaving her to her misery and her broken sunset, same as her heart.

April 14th, 1912
7: 15pm

Logan was fuming and meant to take it out on someone else. But he was expected at dinner, so after lingering around the staircase a while, that was where he headed. He let himself grin forcefully at seeing Xavier had somehow managed to swipe one of the bigger tables that could seat them and Erik's group. It was hard to read whether the old man was pleased or distraught over the seating arrangement.

Even so, he wasn't an idiot. Sandwiching Marie in with people all around her so Logan couldn't get close. Logan was forced to sit in between the two miserable men at the table, making the total three with Logan there. Bobby was absentmindedly freezing his water, while Remy talked about how he and Amy had met. Jean had asked him, although she already knew.

"We met on de second day 'ere. I was workin' in de café when in came dis angel. I mean it, dis girl is an angel. F' some reason, she decided to eat dere 'stead of 'ere f' dinner. Dis angel was de only person dere, an' I was her waiter. I dunno why, but I started talkin' t' her. I know it wasn' my place, but I did. An' she talked t' me. It was so romantic dere wit' de sun setting... I knew dis Cajun had fallen in true love... I know it wasn' my place, but I kissed her when she left... She didn' act repulsed or distraught, so I t'ink she felt it too."

"Awwwwwww," Jean sighed. "That is so sweet..."

"And they let you in here as if you were a passenger?" Erik inquired, more amused by the story than anything else.

"Dey don' know I not one."

"Yet it is not proper. Even if that tramp wanted you here, she obviously isn't now. Probably hiding from you, hoping you'll take the hint," Graydon shot back with a tinge of vehemency. Behavior such as a worker sitting and dining as if he were a first class passenger, he would not accept. "Where do I report you?"

"Mr. Creed, is that really necessary?" Xavier asked. "Mr. LeBeau is not harming anything, and I requested that he join us this night. He is simply granting that request."

The younger man rose from his seat and stared down at the bald head of Xavier's with detest. "Than you should know better than to ask a mere servant to dine with you. Then again, given your company, I shouldn't have expected anything else. Mr. Logan is nothing more than a servant, I'm told."

Logan felt his throat tighten without warning. He glanced at Jean and saw she was attempting to keep the situation from getting any worse with the growl that had been forming in his throat. No doubt it would have made things worse.

"Mr. Logan is a valued member of my family. I do not have servants. I believe in doing things for yourself."

Graydon laughed, a sound which was not at all pleasant and caused Marie to cringe. "Do you expect me to believe you cook your own food? Farm your own food? Wash and mend your own clothes?"

"Yes, we do," he replied without any hesitation.

Marie found nothing wrong with that. She would sometimes sneak into the kitchen and help to cook herself. Cooking was like reading was to her, very calming and therapeutic. Especially when she got to beat the hell out of some meat to make it thinner. Very satisfying. Although nothing would cheer her up after what she had to do.

Not wanting Mr. LeBeau to get into trouble, Marie pleaded with her fiancé to sit down. which received a glare from Logan. After a moment's hesitation, Graydon reluctantly sat back down in his chair to the right of Marie.

"Of course, my dear," he said to her with a fake smile.

The dinner went on as uncomplicated as usual. Or as boring as usual, your pick. For the most part, everyone but Xavier and Lensherr remained silent, only speaking when needed.

"Well..." Xavier exclaimed as he pushed himself to a standing position with his crutch. "Would any of you gentlemen would like to join myself and Erik in the Smoking Room?"

Graydon and Scott acknowledged, but the others politely declined. A non-feral grunt was polite considering the mood Logan was in. He was going to follow the little pipe-squeak as soon as he left.

The rest of the men offered to escort the ladies back to their rooms, leaving Logan free to track him as he pleased.

Pietro didn't even bother with covering his trail as he got the cart with the two meals prepared on it. The waiter offered to take, but the boy refused, declaring he could do it himself.

Once the boy was outside the Reception Area, he picked up the two trays and abandoned the cart. It was then that Logan realized his tracking wouldn't work, and how he couldn't find the girls. In the blink of an eye, Pietro was gone, leaving nothing but an astonishing gust of wind in his wake.

Moving so fast left very little scent for Logan to track by, hence why he had been unsuccessful thus far. He was going to have to demand Xavier worked harder at locating them, his instinct was acting up again. And Logan's instinct was always right.

"Logan?" he turned at the call of his name to face Jean. Fiery haired Jean that was once the object of his fantasies. Hey, he had a thing for red heads. "Would you mind relieving Mr. LeBeau of taking Mrs. and Ms. Darkholme to their quarters?"

Logan sighed. Not quite out of what she had asked to do, but out of not being able to find Jenn any sooner. "Sure," he agreed sorely as the said couple appeared. "Allow me to help escort you ladies?" he asked with a tinge of bitterness.

"Why, thank you, kind sir," Irene said, allowing her arm to be put through the crook in his. "My daughter and I were heading towards our quarters."

With kindness and patience he didn't think possible in him concerning Marie was there, he helped the woman to the rooms, Marie in tow. The cane Irene used whacked his leg a few times, but he kept assuring them that he was alright.

"I can be so clumsy with this thing, forgive me," she said.

"Don't worry. I'm probably walking in a way you aren't used to." Damn, Scooter would have a good laugh if he could-- Aw, shit. They he was, right in their path down the corridor. He and his wife stopped and turned and smiled at him, but he could tell there was a definite shade of humor in Scott's expression before he turned his attention back to nuzzling his wife's neck.

He passed them without a word, wanting to get the duty over with quickly so he could go and beat the shit out of something -- or better yet -- someone.