Becoming a Problem

The problem, she said drunkenly to an attentive yet worried Hank, as they sat up in the kitchen, is love.

Do tell, he murmured, dead sober but insistent on staying up with her. No solitary drunken rage or angst for her, she was going to have a friend. Whether she wanted one or not.

You see, I love em both.

I can see how that might become a problem, yes.

Become? Become? Is a problem.

Hank gently pried the empty bottle she was waving around from her hand. No reason to get hurt here. Do explain.

See, Charm, I love im. But its not enough. Can't seem to fill in all the holes. And then there's Logan; I love im, too. But its too much, its burning me alive. No holes, yeah, but nothing else left either.

You should go to bed, Sera.

No fun alone, she complained irritably, propping her chin in her hand and trying to look coy.

None of that, Serendipity. You have enough men problems without adding me to the list.

Poor, patient, Hank, he really put up with a lot. Why couldn't she be in love with him, anyway? Only be fair, if she could fall in love with her best friend. Sera sighed. Life really sucked sometimes. If she had to be a Jannhanson, a weird and mutated human from a long line of weird, mutated humans, why couldn't she be that way through and through? Why couldn't she have the same expectations out of life, the same needs? And on the flip side, if she wasn't going to be like her family, why couldn't she just turn her back on their whole way of doing things? Why was a long term relationship something that she both wanted and yet seemed incapable of figuring out how to have? She had thought leaving the mountains would have somehow cured her of all this confusion and for six years she thought it had. Now she was just beginning to realize that she hadn't lost anything, she had just buried it so deep she thought she would never find it again.

she groaned in a tone filled with self-pity, resting her head on the table, why can't I be like other people?

He leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. Because then you wouldn't be Sera.

* * * * *

Logan was just stepping out if his own room when he saw Hank walking out of Sera's room. Now, he knew, really he did, that there was nothing going on between Hank and Sera. He would have heard. Hell, he would have smelled. Somehow, he woulda been able to tell. And it was that tiny, barely there bit of restraint that kept him from trying to rip off the other man's face and use it to clean his bike. As it was, he couldn't help himself from getting up in the other man's face and growling angrily.

You got business in there, bub? he managed to snarl out, the words having a hard time making past the mad.

Hank sighed, readjusted his glasses, looked solemn. In fact, I did. She passed out drunk downstairs and I thought it best she sleep it off in bed.

repeated Logan incredulously. Sera don't get drunk. She heals too fast.

That's not entirely correct, Logan. Serendipity can't get drunk... unless she chooses to. She has enough control over her body to make that choice or not. Tonight, I would classify as a cheap date night. She was out like a light in just a couple of hours. Hank tipped his head to Logan and headed wandered down the stairs and whatever work had no doubt about it been interrupted by a drunk Sera.

A drunk Sera. He couldn't even believe it. The only person he'd ever met that could match him drink for drink and she was out cold. Okay, he was an animal. He was a disgusting perv of a guy... he had to see it for himself. It was just, well, he was never gonna believe it otherwise...really, that was it. He didn't care about anything else. He sure didn't care about seeing Sera in bed again, even if he couldn't have her, even if she smelled like that wimp Charm all the bloody time now... Nah, he just had to see it with his own two eyes, that was all.

Growling, cursing himself but being too much an animal or maybe just too much a man, he pushed her door open and went into the room. His eyes, always good in the dark, showed him nothing much in here had changed. It was still neat as a pin, the only place showing the sloppiness that was Sera's natural inclination was the closet; while the nice stuff she called her teacher's clothes were hanging up, the floor was a mess of black t-shirts, jeans, leggings, cutoffs and some more fancy stuff, velvets and laces, leather and fishnet. Her wildchild clothes, she called them.

Sera was curled up in the bed like a cat. Her skimpy tank top showed off both the large wing tattoos on her shoulder blades and the less elaborate triangle of knotwork on the small of her back. Girl oughta wear more clothes, she was going get drunk like this. Up close, in her room, she still smelled like cinnamon, still like Sera. The smell went to his head, better than booze, just like it had ever since that first night. God, all he had to do now was smell cinnamon and he wanted her, remembered having her, remembered everything... she was his, goddamnit; every part of him screamed that she was his. He just had to show her, that was all. If he could show her, she would take him back.

Okay, that was it, he had to get outta here. She'd made her choice, that ugly little scene in the hallway had showed him that. All his posturing, all his reminders, hadn't changed her mind at all. So he guessed she was Charm's, no matter what he thought, felt. His feelings weren't worth a damn if she didn't share them. And it wasn't like Charm was leaving bruises, not like Logan guessed he had, that last time before he left. God only knew, there was enough of her showing now that if the man had left bruises, Logan would be seeing them. No, she was happy. It was him who was turning
into as big of a wuss as Charm.



It was her voice. Groggy, slurred...drunk. Still her voice. And it was saying his name, gentle, like he never thought she'd say it again. His body went still, his eyes staring at her through the dark.

Logan, you want something? She was so outta it, he couldn't even tell if she remembered that she was supposed to hate him right now. Maybe she couldn't even remember that they'd called it quits.

Yeah, darlin', I did, he growled; the sight of her, the sound of her, the smell of her was driving him crazy. He'd lay money she was only talking cause o' that bond of theirs, that his being this near her, this desperate for her, had pulled her out of her drunken sleep. He didn't care. Hell, thinking she knew how he felt just made him want her more.

What is it? was her fuzzy reply. Wha' ya wan'?

he growled, his voice low and tight with frustration. Hadn't been anybody, not really, since he left her all those months ago. Couple of nameless women, just enough time with them for him to know they weren't who he wanted.

Come to bed, she muttered, shifting over some.

It was like the pull of gravity, like the tide. He couldn't think of one damn thing he wanted more than to crawl into bed with her, to show her what she'd been missing. He didn't even think he wanted his memory back as much as he wanted her right then. But she was drunk and he knew it. Hell, he could smell the booze from here. She was drunk and she was taken and he was a dirty old man for sneaking in in her while her defenses were down. He was a bastard for even thinking about taking her up on that offer.

He knew all that and he still couldn't stop himself. He was at the side of her bed before he even knew how he got there. He was close enough to touch her. God damn, how he had missed touching her! Her eyes were half open, their strange color lost in the shadows of the room. She was staring at him. she growled, sounding sleepily annoyed. He remembered that tone of voice.

Logan grabbed her, kissed her hard. Her mouth opened under his and he was dying, she felt so good. It wasn't just the kiss; it was that amazing trick of her knowing how much he wanted her and him knowing she felt the same, all of it bouncing back and forth between them like a pingpong ball. She felt good, he'd forgotten how good. She tasted like whiskey, the good stuff.

And she was drunk. And she was taken. And he was a bastard but he wasn't an animal. Leastways, he tried his best not to be one. So, even though it was killing him, he pulled away, pulled the covers up so they hid her body and said roughly, Nah, darlin'. Yer tired. I'll see you in the morning.

He damn near ran out the door, he was so afraid he would change his mind and do something he'd regret. If he took the bike out, and rode it as hard as it could take it, maybe he could forget what almost happened there. And barring that, maybe there was a big brick wall he could pound his head into till he came to his senses.



Given the fact that Sera was going out of her not to talk to him these days, he was pretty surprised when she sought him out the next morning. Her face was so pale that her eyes looked huge and unnaturally glassy, lost as they were in all that white. She was wearing a baggy black t-shirt that read, Some days its just not worth chewing through the leather straps in the morning, and black tight-like things. Her feet were bare, the toenails were painted black to match her fingernails. Funny the things you notice, he thought to himself, during those long, awkward pauses when no one talks.

she muttered finally, looking anywhere but at him. As pretty much the first sober words she'd spoken to him in a month, he was thrilled. He could live with the fact that she sounded like she'd rather be talking to a decaying corpse. She was talking.

he grunted, going for that detached mood. Not that she'd buy it, there was no lying to the woman. But he felt better for trying.

Her eyes kept dancing all over the place. Look, a wall! Wow, a chair! Oops, Logan! Look, another wall! Neato, the carpet! Finally, as the carpet seemed to be the thing that could hold her attention, she spoke. Look, did I do something that I need to apologize for? Cause, I don't remember much about last night, but I remember you. So, is there something I should be saying sorry for? Her words had come out in such a rush, it was hard to understand her. She was even blushing by the time that whole little speech was out.

He wanted to grin, he wanted to draw it out so that she thought they had done something. But in the end, he couldn't do it. Couldn't even make her that small bit uncomfortable. Yep, he was turning into a fool for the woman. Instead, he just sighed, stared over her head-- hadn't really noticed before, that was some nice wallpaper-- and said, gruff as he could, Nah, darlin', you didn't do nothing. Nothing happened.

Then why do I remember...? Her blush was a lot brighter now.

You didn't do nothing. It was me. And I'm the one who oughta be saying I'm sorry. Except he didn't really remember having said he was sorry to any damn person but Rogue in the last fifteen years and that was for almost fucking killing her so he must be on drugs or something now to be apologizing to Sera.

She frowned. Why were you in my room?

Cause you were there, why'd you think I'd be there? She rolled her eyes and made to walk away but he grabbed her arm to stop her. Damned if he even missed fighting with her. Okay, look, it was cause Hank said you were drunk and I wanted to make sure you were okay.

she snapped sarcastically, good timing for you to get a conscience, wolf-boy.

Look, why'd you let yourself get that drunk in the first place? Hank said you had to want it, for it to happen.

Why'd I get drunk? She was staring, incredulous. Cause I damn well wanted to. And I'll thank you to stay the hell out of my room from now on.

She stormed away, furious. He just stared. Yep, he was turning into a girly man . He couldn't believe he had just let her bitch him out and all he could think was how damn good it had been to talk to her again.

Maybe it had been a mistake to come back.

* * * * *

There's no pressure, Charm was saying from where he sat on the floor, with his back up against the wall.

Sera herself sat on the floor of her room, staring into the full length mirror she had nailed to her closet door. Try as she might, she didn't see what the fuss was. Charm swore she was beautiful, incredible, exotic. Logan wasn't much for compliments but she could feel his interest from across the room. When she looked in the mirror, all she ever saw was the girl who could never fit in. Growing up, she hadn't been anything like any of the town kids. Nope, she was a Jannhanson and everybody knew she was different. No friends for her, just a lot of wide eyed stares. Jannhansons were respected, no doubt about it, but you didn't go drink your coffee with them. Living in New York, seeing with her own eyes how spooked people were by the mere mention of the word mutation, she looked at herself in the mirror and all she ever saw was a liar. Couldn't there be some sort if happy middle ground? Why did everything have to be so all or nothing? Couldn't she be something besides a liar or a freakshow?

Charm loved her, she knew he did. But as much as he tried, he couldn't love the mutation, he couldn't love that parts of her that were so alien from himself. She knew how relieved he was that she looked normal, that people looked at her and thought she was human. It wasn't so much that he was ashamed, it was just that he was not proud. She wanted pride, damnit.

But she had also, her whole life, wanted that amazing feeling she was sure you got once you found the place where you fit in. The place where you belonged. Charm was so all-American, so perfectly human, she was sure that with him, that fit would come. She could learn from him, how it was that people acted human. She would fit.

Teaching at the school, being Terry's mom like person, well, that felt closer. Terry was proud of her, much like she was proud of Terry. And there was a lot of pride to be found in teaching these kids there own pride, their own self-respect. She loved being able to show them the many small similarities between people, the ones the made up for all the huge differences. They loved showing them how they fit, so why couldn't she find any of that peace for herself?

So what was missing here? What part of the equation had she gotten wrong? Cause she still wasn't as brilliantly happy as she thought she would be. What hadn't fallen into place and left her feeling like she still didn't fit?

She only knew of two ways to live. The one her mother had shown her and the one she learned from Charm. So why couldn't one of them work? How do you learn how to live?

His voice interrupted her thoughts. Drifted off a little too long there, Sera my dear, she berated herself. Man's not going to wait forever. Her eyes looked down at the small object she was holding in her right hand. Gold, fourteen caret, and a diamond, in the classic brilliant cut. A solitaire engagement ring. How classic of Charm. In the flashes of light, Sera thought she could see whole worlds spin out. Whole futures.

Well, Sera, what will it be? Charm sounded nervous, felt nervous. Will you make me the happiest man on earth?

Sera looked at the ring, slipped it onto her finger, where it fit perfectly. It sparkled there, commitment, normalcy, everything she had ever wanted, wrapped up in one little band of metal and stone. She smiled and in the mirror she could see it was like a flash of lightening, the way it lit up her face.

She knew what to do