Disclaimer: Not mine, just playin' with 'em. Suing me would be completely pointless as I have no money but many ferrets………..

: Telepathic communication. I'm sure you would guess that, but hey…….

Feedback: Oh, God, yes. Pretty, pretty please. Pretty please with naked Wolvies on top?! Either on here or to andreaslaymaker@hotmail.com. But please be nice – this is my VERY FIRST fic and I have no beta!! (Any and all offers gladly and gratefully received…..!)

Soundtrack: I listened to the Nickleback album 'Silver Side Up' continually whilst writing this.

On with the show……..

Chapter 3

Now You See Me…

He had to admit, beautiful as it was up here, it was sure cold. Good job it was him up here and none of the others; with the possible exception of 'Ro, they would all be bitchin', moanin', and probably droppin' dead of hypothermia. Not that that wasn't a nice mental image at times, but it would sure as hell have slowed him down. And he was making little enough progress as it was.

Sure, he thought he'd made contact; trouble was, the contactee was having absolutely none of it. And whatever he, she, or it was, it was skilled enough at woodcraft to keep just clear of the wolverine, and that made him mad. It had gone from being a simple assignment - albeit a bit more awkward than he would like to admit - to a matter of professional pride. He had made up his mind. This thing would not get away from him.

He sighed, and tossed another stick of wood on to his small fire. He would rest for another couple of hours, then start up before dawn. Unless…….

He sat up sharply, and took another sniff. What the ……?

Something was definitely out there. Not a wolf, not a bear, not a person… something else. But where? This, he decided, was it. He'd had enough. No more running around. No more Mr. Nice Guy. He was going to find this thing, and he was going to kick its ass. Time for him to let the animal inside out to earn it's damn keep…

He moved silently into the trees, away from the small camp, and followed his nose. Oh, this thing was clever; it had approached the camp from a very roundabout route, leaving confusing tracks and scent clues. A lesser tracker than he wouldn't even have realised it had been there. He circled a little closer, moving more quietly than the wind sighing through the trees, and to his amazement - he had expected several hours of this - got his first good look at this thing.

It looked a little like a wolf, but not quite; from what he could see, the face was longer and more pointed, similar to that of a Borzoi he had seen once. The shoulders were powerful, just a hair off being bulky; it appeared that the hind legs, whilst being as long as the front ones, were slightly less heavily muscled. Indeed, he could easily believe it was a creature from the dawn of time; a time wilder and more dangerous than their own. It possessed enough hair over the neck and shoulders to be described as a mane; silver and black, it rippled slightly in the breeze, drifting it's own musky scent back to Logan's nostrils. Female, he decided, curious, and very dangerous.

She was crouched at the edge of the clearing, seemingly fascinated by his fire; did he attack, or try to communicate? Tie her up, or rip her to shreds? Was she animal, or human?

Whatthehell.

He bunched his muscles, balanced himself, and leapt. To his surprise, the creature simply sidestepped, letting him crash to the ground in a heap. She then went around the other side of the fire and sat down, regarding him with a look of amusement in her cold grey eyes.

Shit. The damn thing knew I was coming! Knew I was there all along! Fuck.

He pulled himself up, shook off the snow, and glared at the creature. He knew the direct stare and aggressive stance would bother it; it was a dominance thing. Sure enough, the look of amusement dropped from those eyes, and a low growl began to rumble from the powerful chest. Logan spread his arms, grinned, and issued his challenge.

Snikt!

"Come on then. No more fuckin' around. I win, you come with me. You win, I leave. Got that?"

To his surprise, the beast nodded it's head twice, got up, and tensed to spring.

So it understands me, huh? This could be interesting….

She moved first. Her leap took her straight towards her adversary, and although he dodged it easily she came frighteningly close to drawing first blood. She pulled herself round, and they continued circling - eyes never leaving each other. Wary as Logan was, he almost missed her next move; a swift feint to the left followed by a drive to his right. It might have worked, and torn his flank open; as it was, he twisted and closed with her, claws out and teeth bared.

They grappled on the ground briefly, each trying for a position which would allow them to hurt the other; she sprang away from him with a scream when he managed to get his claws to rake along her sides. Her cry was not alone, however; in breaking his hold and escaping from him she had used her powerful hind legs to shove him into his fire. Logan roared with the pain of the burn even as he rolled to his feet and fixed his opponent with his most challenging glare.

"First blood, bitch" he snarled.

Only heart's blood counts came the defiant answer into his mind.

"Oh, you can talk, huh?" they were continuing to circle. Logan noticed, in the scattered and flickering firelight, that the horrible gash he'd inflicted was healing already. Figures, he thought sourly, another damn healing factor. So now what? She was showing a distinct reluctance to close with him again, but wasn't about to back down; he knew this would go on until one of them had definitely lost…unless…well, he supposed he had to try.

He straightened up, withdrew his claws, and held out his hands palm forward in the traditional 'I am unarmed' gesture.

"Why don't you give up now? Just surrender, and we can sort this whole damn situation out like civilised creatures-"

He got no further. Uttering a noise which sounded suspiciously like a derisive snort, she flung herself forward and closed with him again. Unlike any human fight, he had to watch not only for limbs, but teeth as well; she tagged his face several times and even once managed to get tight hold of his shoulder, shaking and tearing like a dog with a bone. But then she yelped and let go; Logan had heard a crack an instant before the yell - must have broken a tooth on the adamantium, he thought wryly, bet that hurts like a bitch - and took advantage to try and pin his opponent to the forest floor. She flung him off, that time; but he could tell that she was tiring now, and all it would take would be one mistake -

She made it, and in a flash he had her held fast to the ground, one claw either side of her throat and the middle one just scratching the skin. She struggled faintly, but a growl from the throat of the wolverine and a further dig from his claws were all the warning to lie still that she needed. They lay there in silence for a few minutes, breathing hard, waiting for tired healing factors to catch up with the vicious wounds inflicted by the fight.

Go on then came a bitter thought.

"What?"

Kill me The beast closed her eyes and relaxed.

"No!" Logan eased up on her, retracting his claws and staring down, somewhat aghast, "or at least…not until I know a bit more about you"

Watch, then

To his horror, the shape underneath him began to change - it wasn't so much the sight of the features running like wax, or the hair snaking itself back under the skin that turned his stomach; it was the sounds of gristle crunching and the crack and slush of bone and flesh rearranging themselves that did it.

Suddenly, he found himself lying on top of a young woman. A naked young woman. A damned attractive naked young woman at that, from what he could see, and feel beneath his own body. A body which, he noted with a certain detachment, was beginning also to notice the amount of warm, naked female flesh it was pressed against.

"You win" she said dully, clearly resigning herself to whatever he was going to do to her. She appeared only mildly surprised when that was to roll off her and sit up, staring.

"Sort the fire out" he snapped, suddenly feeling absurdly lost. After all, she looked how old? Eighteen? Twenty? What the hell was he supposed to do now?

"Go to hell" She was crouched about four feet away from him, arms wrapped around her knees and glaring at him sullenly.

"DO it!" he shouted, expecting at the very least a fierce argument. To his surprise, she dropped her head, flicked him a look, and did as she was told. A small light flickered on in his brain; he had beaten her, so that made him the alpha male. She would do whatever he told her to. So now all he had to do was find out who she was, how she got there, if she was what he had been sent to find, then get her all the way back to Westchester without being discovered, or her escaping, or turning on him…and they were still forty miles from nowhere. She had no clothing, and a creature like her other form could not, he realised, be passed off as a pet. He looked across at her again, wrapped up in herself by the fire, rocking gently, with silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

Oh brother.

This mission couldn't get any worse.

Could it?