A/N: Thanks for all the helpful critiquing! Please, be patient with me-I'm
setting a lot up for later chapters. So far, no flamers, but as long as I
keep these chapters under wraps b/c of my little perfection compulsive
thingy, I shouldn't have any should I? Just kidding. To relieve
concerns.(warning, spoiler for a chapter that is MUCH later)..Bella Donna
is NOT dead for all purposes of this story, HOWEVER there will be NO and I
repeat NO Bella Donna/Gambit/Rogue Triangle, and in fact, Bella Donna's
ONLY purpose is to bring Logan and Marie together. This will be done by.umm
sorry if I say that then this whole series of about 7 Chapters (already
written mind ya!) are completely useless. I will say this.there is NO
Rogue/Wolverine and Bella Donna contact! And b4 I forget. Vics, as much as
I love ya and as long as we've been friends, you should KNOW that I'm a
Wolverine/Rogue shipper. There will be NO Gambit/Rogue in here.I'll save it
for a later one, k? And stop glaring at me--I'm not changing my mind! Wow.
I feel better. It is a said fact that I do not own any of these characters.
Chapter 7: Lost
*Logan, come to my office. I have information that might lead you to information about your past.*
*Be right there Chuck*
*Logan, we've been over this before. Please don't call me Chuck. It has been rubbing off on Marie lately and I'm sure that the more charming of the personality traits she's gained from you aren't helping her to hide it. If you would be ever so kind as to discourage this behavior.*
*Well, what can I say Chuck? The kid's got me in her head. It ain't no use trying to lie to her.*
*Do not call me*
*Chuck. Yeah. I know. Be right there, Wheels.*
/Damn telepaths...always in your head./
*This connection's still open, Logan.*
*Well get out of my damn head already!*
Logan finished his morning coffee. Well, more like afternoon coffee. He made it a habit to never be out of bed before noon. He pitied Marie for inheriting that particular trait, among others, because her first class was at 6am. Jeannie's math class, of course. He went back to pondering his coffee before his thoughts could turn back to Marie. His coffee was thick and black. No sugar or cream for him---he wasn't a pansy like One-Eye for God's sake. It had been brewing all morning and was now thick syrup. /Gotta admit, though, the bourbon thins it out a bit./
As soon as Wolverine walked into the Professor's office, he knew that these leads were actual possibilities, not just goose chases that the government seemed to love to throw at him.
"Logan...there's some places in Canada that you might want to check out. They look.promising."
Wolverine took the paper the man handed to him.
"When do you leave?"
"I don't know. As soon as possible."
"Logan, I want you to know that there will always be a room open here for you, whether it is with the X-Men or not. I put my complete trust in you. However, I must ask you something. Will you take Rouge with you?"
Wolverine looked at the man in the alarmed way that only he could, conveying that he thought the possibly older man was crazy. He growled. "Now why would I do that? I'm not that much of a stupid asshole. I do have some common sense. I promised the kid that I'd protect her, not put her in a situation to be kidnapped."
The professor nodded thoughtfully, not giving away his happiness at the decision. "If I don't see you again before you leave, good luck."
Wolverine was itching to go, to get out on his own again and not have to bother with conforming to pansy-assed Scooter's morals. Finding Marie asleep on Gumbo's shoulder wasn't exactly a prime reason to stay either. It would be good to not have all of his senses assaulted by the multitude of kids that lived in the mansion. The mention of Marie made him stop and think, almost second-guess himself. The only person he halfway trusted here, besides Marie, who for some reason he couldn't put his figure on, trusted completely and the Professor was the Cajun. But that had formed out of teaming up to annoy Ol' One Eye. After Gumbo's comment the first night he was there, the one with so many implications, he had kept a close eye on him. Lately, he had smelled more of a spice on Marie than he'd like to, but he couldn't do anything about it. Gumbo was everything he himself was. /Except slimy./ However, his girl and Gumbo were also good friends- when they weren't at each other's throats. Those matches were always interesting as both where quick-tempered, cunning and had a quick wit.
He couldn't-wouldn't-leave her without a good-bye. It was a standing rule between the two. It didn't matter if anyone else knew, but the other must always be notified if they were leaving the grounds. It was a matter of trust. Sure, he liked the woman /liked the KID/ a lot, but it would have to stay in the father/older brother way. She was only 17 and he.God only knew how old he was. /If there is even a God. But she's an old 17. The girl's got at least a 100 years of combined memories in that head of hers./ He cursed himself. He had to quit trying to rationalize. He could however, console himself, since he was never truly gone from her. He was still inside her head. He laughed, well the closest thing the Wolverine did to a laugh. The kid had even taken on more of his 'charming characteristics', had, on occasion, called the Professor Chuck, and had taken swigs of his Molson.
God, the way he felt when he smelled their mixed scent on his beer bottles. It was almost enough to./NO!/ He couldn't allow himself to feel that way. He was being a lecherous old fool for doing this, feeling like this. He had packed while he was thinking. His bags were filled and loaded. Before he could leave, though, he had to tell Marie where he was going. He wasn't about to let her not tell him where she was going because he had broken her trust.
/Damn. I'm turning into more o' a pansy than Scooter./
He walked through the mansion, bags in hand, following Marie's scent to one of the less used rec rooms. He almost walked in when another, spicy, scent assaulted his senses. That damned Cajun was in there with his girl. The Wolverine came out in his personality-his territory was being threatened. As he looked around the door jam, he saw Rogue and Gambit playing twister, with Jubilee spinning the spinner. The two were twisted around each other, as was the point of the game. Jubilee called out "Left hand, red" and he watched as the two struggled to complete the task. They both fell into a laughing heap. The Wolverine had gone from a defensive alpha male to a wounded animal. Marie was happy here. He couldn't bring himself to deliver news that would erase her smile. The Wolverine then turned and left the Mansion, telling no one that he was leaving or where he was going. Only Marie's lost-in-thought stare at the door was the only sign that he had been there, watching.
Chapter 7: Lost
*Logan, come to my office. I have information that might lead you to information about your past.*
*Be right there Chuck*
*Logan, we've been over this before. Please don't call me Chuck. It has been rubbing off on Marie lately and I'm sure that the more charming of the personality traits she's gained from you aren't helping her to hide it. If you would be ever so kind as to discourage this behavior.*
*Well, what can I say Chuck? The kid's got me in her head. It ain't no use trying to lie to her.*
*Do not call me*
*Chuck. Yeah. I know. Be right there, Wheels.*
/Damn telepaths...always in your head./
*This connection's still open, Logan.*
*Well get out of my damn head already!*
Logan finished his morning coffee. Well, more like afternoon coffee. He made it a habit to never be out of bed before noon. He pitied Marie for inheriting that particular trait, among others, because her first class was at 6am. Jeannie's math class, of course. He went back to pondering his coffee before his thoughts could turn back to Marie. His coffee was thick and black. No sugar or cream for him---he wasn't a pansy like One-Eye for God's sake. It had been brewing all morning and was now thick syrup. /Gotta admit, though, the bourbon thins it out a bit./
As soon as Wolverine walked into the Professor's office, he knew that these leads were actual possibilities, not just goose chases that the government seemed to love to throw at him.
"Logan...there's some places in Canada that you might want to check out. They look.promising."
Wolverine took the paper the man handed to him.
"When do you leave?"
"I don't know. As soon as possible."
"Logan, I want you to know that there will always be a room open here for you, whether it is with the X-Men or not. I put my complete trust in you. However, I must ask you something. Will you take Rouge with you?"
Wolverine looked at the man in the alarmed way that only he could, conveying that he thought the possibly older man was crazy. He growled. "Now why would I do that? I'm not that much of a stupid asshole. I do have some common sense. I promised the kid that I'd protect her, not put her in a situation to be kidnapped."
The professor nodded thoughtfully, not giving away his happiness at the decision. "If I don't see you again before you leave, good luck."
Wolverine was itching to go, to get out on his own again and not have to bother with conforming to pansy-assed Scooter's morals. Finding Marie asleep on Gumbo's shoulder wasn't exactly a prime reason to stay either. It would be good to not have all of his senses assaulted by the multitude of kids that lived in the mansion. The mention of Marie made him stop and think, almost second-guess himself. The only person he halfway trusted here, besides Marie, who for some reason he couldn't put his figure on, trusted completely and the Professor was the Cajun. But that had formed out of teaming up to annoy Ol' One Eye. After Gumbo's comment the first night he was there, the one with so many implications, he had kept a close eye on him. Lately, he had smelled more of a spice on Marie than he'd like to, but he couldn't do anything about it. Gumbo was everything he himself was. /Except slimy./ However, his girl and Gumbo were also good friends- when they weren't at each other's throats. Those matches were always interesting as both where quick-tempered, cunning and had a quick wit.
He couldn't-wouldn't-leave her without a good-bye. It was a standing rule between the two. It didn't matter if anyone else knew, but the other must always be notified if they were leaving the grounds. It was a matter of trust. Sure, he liked the woman /liked the KID/ a lot, but it would have to stay in the father/older brother way. She was only 17 and he.God only knew how old he was. /If there is even a God. But she's an old 17. The girl's got at least a 100 years of combined memories in that head of hers./ He cursed himself. He had to quit trying to rationalize. He could however, console himself, since he was never truly gone from her. He was still inside her head. He laughed, well the closest thing the Wolverine did to a laugh. The kid had even taken on more of his 'charming characteristics', had, on occasion, called the Professor Chuck, and had taken swigs of his Molson.
God, the way he felt when he smelled their mixed scent on his beer bottles. It was almost enough to./NO!/ He couldn't allow himself to feel that way. He was being a lecherous old fool for doing this, feeling like this. He had packed while he was thinking. His bags were filled and loaded. Before he could leave, though, he had to tell Marie where he was going. He wasn't about to let her not tell him where she was going because he had broken her trust.
/Damn. I'm turning into more o' a pansy than Scooter./
He walked through the mansion, bags in hand, following Marie's scent to one of the less used rec rooms. He almost walked in when another, spicy, scent assaulted his senses. That damned Cajun was in there with his girl. The Wolverine came out in his personality-his territory was being threatened. As he looked around the door jam, he saw Rogue and Gambit playing twister, with Jubilee spinning the spinner. The two were twisted around each other, as was the point of the game. Jubilee called out "Left hand, red" and he watched as the two struggled to complete the task. They both fell into a laughing heap. The Wolverine had gone from a defensive alpha male to a wounded animal. Marie was happy here. He couldn't bring himself to deliver news that would erase her smile. The Wolverine then turned and left the Mansion, telling no one that he was leaving or where he was going. Only Marie's lost-in-thought stare at the door was the only sign that he had been there, watching.