A/N: Thanks to those of you who posted reviews to my first chapter. It's
for you three that I am posting this next bit. I'm still not entirely sure
where Logan and Caitlin are taking me, I guess we'll find out. If any of
you are into Witchblade, please check out my stories in that category, I
have several. Please review and let me know if you like this enough for me
to keep going with it.
Logan awoke the following morning after the most refreshing night's sleep he had had in years. No nightmares, no waking up in terror with sweat chilling on his forehead. He looked down at the young woman sleeping in the circle of his arms and smiled slightly. She stirred and opened her eyes, returned his smile with a bright one of her own, and he felt a contentment he knew was coming from her. She stretched and rolled over to face him better.
"Did you sleep well," she asked.
"Better than I have in years," he replied. She smiled at him for a moment, then started laughing. He looked at her, confused. "What?" he asked.
"I've never had a guest before," she said. "And here I am making small talk with a complete stranger after waking up in your arms. It strikes me as absurd."
"I'm not a complete stranger," Logan reminded her with a grin. "I introduced myself."
"True enough," she conceded. "Hungry?" She slipped out of bed and padded barefoot into the galley. He followed, watching her pull potatoes, garlic, green onions, and cheese out of a cooler.
"You have any bacon," he asked.
"Sorry," she replied as she peeled and shredded the potatoes. "No meat."
"You a vegetarian," he asked.
"No," she replied. "It's just that I have no really good way to keep meat up here, without power. If I put it outside it would freeze and keep a long time, but it would also attract predators. My cooler is a bit unreliable when it comes to meat."
"Oh," he said, her situation finally hitting home. He didn't know how she could live like this day after day. He watched her light the propane stove and melt butter in a skillet before throwing in the potatoes. As he helped her dice the garlic and onions and shred the cheese, he wondered if the Professor could help her.
After they ate and cleaned up, Caitlin showed him around the base. As she had warned him, it was pretty much stripped. A few flashes of memory stirred in one or two rooms, but nothing he could grasp or identify. He was frustrated and ill-tempered by the end of the afternoon. Determined not to take it out on Caitlin, who had been nothing but nice to him, he took off into the woods for a little hunting. He spent several hours out in the forest, running himself out of his bad mood and scaring up three rabbits and a couple of quail. After cleaning his game by a stream he headed back to the base, slipping in the door as quietly as possible. He was curious to see what Caitlin had been doing while he was gone.
Padding softly across the floor, he peeked in around the door to the galley. He found her sitting at the table, a glass of water at her elbow while she typed away on a laptop computer, a stack of batteries behind it. She was very intent on whatever she was doing, her fingers flying over the keyboard. Logan was congratulating himself on sneaking up on her when spoke without pausing her typing or raising her eyes from the screen.
"Give me a few minutes, and I'll be done for the day," she said. He stared for a moment, jaw hanging, then remembered she was an empath. She had probably sensed him coming long before he got in the door. Grinning and shaking his head, he came into the kitchen and started fixing dinner. After a few more minutes Caitlin sighed, stretched, and closed her laptop. She ejected a floppy disk from the side and slipped it carefully into a plastic case. After both computer and disk were safely tucked back in a cupboard, she came over to see what he was doing.
"Mmm," she sighed. "Smells good."
"Thanks," Logan replied. He tossed garlic into the skillet with the diced meat and potatoes. "I'm not much of a cook," he warned.
"Neither am I," she said. "Where did you get the meat?"
"Caught it," he replied.
"Cool," she said.
"What were you doing there," he asked.
"On the computer?" she said. "Oh, working. I write novels."
"Really?" he said, surprised. "Ever been published?"
"Of course," she replied. "How do you think I afford these luxurious accommodations?" She grinned.
"So, what do you write about," he prodded.
"I write mysteries," Caitlin confessed. "The ones about the woman who is an empathy and ends up getting sucked into all these weird cases while doing investigative reporting for her city newspaper."
"That's you?" Logan was stunned. "I've read one of those."
"You have?" her turn to be stunned. "What did you think?"
"I thought it was good," he replied.
"Not really your thing, though," she guessed.
"Well, not really," he admitted. "But I liked it enough to remember it."
"Which one did you read?"
"The one with the guy who could turn into a cat."
"One of my earlier ones," she said with a sigh. "I got better at it."
"Is the money good, being a best-selling author?"
"Not good enough for me to be able to get a house far enough from town that people would leave me alone." Caitlin said. "People were always coming to my apartment, wanting to meet the author and have their books signed. I couldn't get anything done because of the headaches. Here no one knows where I am. I get left alone. I can write in peace. And everyone chalks it up to the usual weirdness people expect from writers and artists."
"Convenient," he said.
"In some ways," she admitted. "But I really do miss being able to be around people sometimes. And it's a real pain in the ass having to haul my supplies all the way up here."
"I know someone who may be ale to help you," Logan found himself saying. "Interested?"
"Yes, very," she replied. "Who?"
"Have you ever heard of Professor Charles Xavier," Logan asked.
"Certainly," she said. "Why, you know him?"
"Yes, I do." Logan grinned. "And if anyone could help you he could. He's got a school for mutants in Westchester. When I go back, why don't you come with me?"
"Oh, Logan," she said, getting excited, but still a bit wary. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose on the Professor, or you."
"Trust me," he said with a grin, and she smiled back.
"Thank you, Logan," she said happily. "I'd love to go with you and meet the Professor."
"Great," he said. "We can leave as soon as you're packed."
"Shouldn't take me long," she replied thoughtfully, going over her possessions in her mind. "All I really have of value is the laptop. Other than that, a few changes of clothing, no more than a single bag, surely. I'd have to stop in town and let them know at the post office that I won't be in to pick up my mail for a while. Everything else will either be here or not when I return. If I return."
"Good," Logan said, setting two plates of food on the table. "We'll get started early tomorrow then. I've seen all there is to see here."
After dinner they played poker for match sticks. Caitlin gave him free run of her liquor cabinet, but didn't touch any of it herself. He thoroughly trounced her at five card draw and blackjack, but she had a wonderful time. She didn't care that she lost, it was enough for her to be playing at all with another person. She really missed the social contact. She hoped Logan was right and the Professor could help her. He had something of a reputation as an expert on the mind as well as other branches of knowledge.
When she was yawning frequently Logan called a halt to the game and put the cards away. She changed into a long shirt she used for a nightgown and Logan stripped to undershirt and underwear. They settled together under the covers, Caitlin encircled by Logan's strong arms like the night before, and slipped into peaceful sleep together.
Logan awoke the following morning after the most refreshing night's sleep he had had in years. No nightmares, no waking up in terror with sweat chilling on his forehead. He looked down at the young woman sleeping in the circle of his arms and smiled slightly. She stirred and opened her eyes, returned his smile with a bright one of her own, and he felt a contentment he knew was coming from her. She stretched and rolled over to face him better.
"Did you sleep well," she asked.
"Better than I have in years," he replied. She smiled at him for a moment, then started laughing. He looked at her, confused. "What?" he asked.
"I've never had a guest before," she said. "And here I am making small talk with a complete stranger after waking up in your arms. It strikes me as absurd."
"I'm not a complete stranger," Logan reminded her with a grin. "I introduced myself."
"True enough," she conceded. "Hungry?" She slipped out of bed and padded barefoot into the galley. He followed, watching her pull potatoes, garlic, green onions, and cheese out of a cooler.
"You have any bacon," he asked.
"Sorry," she replied as she peeled and shredded the potatoes. "No meat."
"You a vegetarian," he asked.
"No," she replied. "It's just that I have no really good way to keep meat up here, without power. If I put it outside it would freeze and keep a long time, but it would also attract predators. My cooler is a bit unreliable when it comes to meat."
"Oh," he said, her situation finally hitting home. He didn't know how she could live like this day after day. He watched her light the propane stove and melt butter in a skillet before throwing in the potatoes. As he helped her dice the garlic and onions and shred the cheese, he wondered if the Professor could help her.
After they ate and cleaned up, Caitlin showed him around the base. As she had warned him, it was pretty much stripped. A few flashes of memory stirred in one or two rooms, but nothing he could grasp or identify. He was frustrated and ill-tempered by the end of the afternoon. Determined not to take it out on Caitlin, who had been nothing but nice to him, he took off into the woods for a little hunting. He spent several hours out in the forest, running himself out of his bad mood and scaring up three rabbits and a couple of quail. After cleaning his game by a stream he headed back to the base, slipping in the door as quietly as possible. He was curious to see what Caitlin had been doing while he was gone.
Padding softly across the floor, he peeked in around the door to the galley. He found her sitting at the table, a glass of water at her elbow while she typed away on a laptop computer, a stack of batteries behind it. She was very intent on whatever she was doing, her fingers flying over the keyboard. Logan was congratulating himself on sneaking up on her when spoke without pausing her typing or raising her eyes from the screen.
"Give me a few minutes, and I'll be done for the day," she said. He stared for a moment, jaw hanging, then remembered she was an empath. She had probably sensed him coming long before he got in the door. Grinning and shaking his head, he came into the kitchen and started fixing dinner. After a few more minutes Caitlin sighed, stretched, and closed her laptop. She ejected a floppy disk from the side and slipped it carefully into a plastic case. After both computer and disk were safely tucked back in a cupboard, she came over to see what he was doing.
"Mmm," she sighed. "Smells good."
"Thanks," Logan replied. He tossed garlic into the skillet with the diced meat and potatoes. "I'm not much of a cook," he warned.
"Neither am I," she said. "Where did you get the meat?"
"Caught it," he replied.
"Cool," she said.
"What were you doing there," he asked.
"On the computer?" she said. "Oh, working. I write novels."
"Really?" he said, surprised. "Ever been published?"
"Of course," she replied. "How do you think I afford these luxurious accommodations?" She grinned.
"So, what do you write about," he prodded.
"I write mysteries," Caitlin confessed. "The ones about the woman who is an empathy and ends up getting sucked into all these weird cases while doing investigative reporting for her city newspaper."
"That's you?" Logan was stunned. "I've read one of those."
"You have?" her turn to be stunned. "What did you think?"
"I thought it was good," he replied.
"Not really your thing, though," she guessed.
"Well, not really," he admitted. "But I liked it enough to remember it."
"Which one did you read?"
"The one with the guy who could turn into a cat."
"One of my earlier ones," she said with a sigh. "I got better at it."
"Is the money good, being a best-selling author?"
"Not good enough for me to be able to get a house far enough from town that people would leave me alone." Caitlin said. "People were always coming to my apartment, wanting to meet the author and have their books signed. I couldn't get anything done because of the headaches. Here no one knows where I am. I get left alone. I can write in peace. And everyone chalks it up to the usual weirdness people expect from writers and artists."
"Convenient," he said.
"In some ways," she admitted. "But I really do miss being able to be around people sometimes. And it's a real pain in the ass having to haul my supplies all the way up here."
"I know someone who may be ale to help you," Logan found himself saying. "Interested?"
"Yes, very," she replied. "Who?"
"Have you ever heard of Professor Charles Xavier," Logan asked.
"Certainly," she said. "Why, you know him?"
"Yes, I do." Logan grinned. "And if anyone could help you he could. He's got a school for mutants in Westchester. When I go back, why don't you come with me?"
"Oh, Logan," she said, getting excited, but still a bit wary. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose on the Professor, or you."
"Trust me," he said with a grin, and she smiled back.
"Thank you, Logan," she said happily. "I'd love to go with you and meet the Professor."
"Great," he said. "We can leave as soon as you're packed."
"Shouldn't take me long," she replied thoughtfully, going over her possessions in her mind. "All I really have of value is the laptop. Other than that, a few changes of clothing, no more than a single bag, surely. I'd have to stop in town and let them know at the post office that I won't be in to pick up my mail for a while. Everything else will either be here or not when I return. If I return."
"Good," Logan said, setting two plates of food on the table. "We'll get started early tomorrow then. I've seen all there is to see here."
After dinner they played poker for match sticks. Caitlin gave him free run of her liquor cabinet, but didn't touch any of it herself. He thoroughly trounced her at five card draw and blackjack, but she had a wonderful time. She didn't care that she lost, it was enough for her to be playing at all with another person. She really missed the social contact. She hoped Logan was right and the Professor could help her. He had something of a reputation as an expert on the mind as well as other branches of knowledge.
When she was yawning frequently Logan called a halt to the game and put the cards away. She changed into a long shirt she used for a nightgown and Logan stripped to undershirt and underwear. They settled together under the covers, Caitlin encircled by Logan's strong arms like the night before, and slipped into peaceful sleep together.