Comfort and Torture, Help and Harm
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters
May 8, 1998 8 PM
Puffing on his cigar, Logan stalked up and down the hallway outside the infirmary. It had been three days since Buffy was found in the dingy LA bus station. When Giles had called to advise them that she had run away and to beg Xavier to find her with Cerebro, Logan had known better than to ask to be on the retrieval team. The others would have seen right through him. Ororo had gone with Scott. Kurt had wanted to go as well, but he would have drawn too much attention. Scott and Ororo needed to move fast in case Buffy tried to evade them. They were fairly certain that she was still in California, so the jet was more than halfway there before Xavier signaled with the exact coordinates.
Logan was waiting just outside the hanger door when Scott carried Buffy in from the plane. She looked so young, wearing overalls, with one of the Xavier School blankets tucked around her. She looked exhausted too, and fragile. Ororo, disgust obscuring her normally gentle features, had told him that they had found Buffy lying in a heap on the floor next to the phones. She had obviously been there for some time. No one had bothered to try and help her.
She was awake now. Scott had gone in over three hours ago. It tore at Logan to hear her sobbing through the door, and it had taken every ounce of his formidable determination not to run in there. She had been crying off and on throughout Scott's visit and Logan fought down the desire to listen to their conversation. It would have been easy enough, but it would have been wrong. She would see him when she was ready. His sense of right and wrong was damned inconvenient sometimes, he thought.
Also, what could have happened to her? Where the hell was Angel? Willow? Xander? Giles? Or her mother, for that matter? How had she made it all the way to LA with no car and no money? How had she survived for three days and two nights away from family and friends with demons out there, not to mention the human predators preying on young girls in big cities? He didn't even want to think about that.
He inhaled deeply and the scent of her tears caused his claws to flutter in and out. Take another deep breath. Relax, he thought. Buffy is a fighter and a survivor. She's made it this far. She'll be alright.
What the hell is taking so long?
Suddenly, the infirmary doors slid open and Scott stepped out.
"Well?" Logan demanded.
"Ah man, she's been through the ringer, hung out to dry, then put through it again. I need a good stiff drink, possibly two, and then I'll tell the team everything."
"Fine, let's go. I'll pour," Logan asserted.
An hour later, Scott had brought Logan, Ororo, Kurt and Xavier up to speed on Principal Snyder, Spike and Drusilla, Angel/Angelus, Kendra, the murder investigation, Joyce's ultimatum, Acathala, and finally, Angel and the portal to hell. Charles Xavier leaned back in his chair and sighed.
"Despite the trauma in her life, Buffy's mind is stronger than it was this time last year, no doubt as a result of her continuing growth as a Slayer. However, so profound is her grief and confusion, that she is terribly vulnerable to depression and despair right now. If we all agree that it is in her best interest to stay with us this summer, and that we are willing to shield her from the authorities..." Xavier paused, waiting until all of the members of the group nodded in approval, "then we must commit to creating a supportive environment for her. Also, we must keep her secrets from the other children. She will tell them when she is ready."
Logan asked, "How long before we can see her?"
"I think it would be best to wait until she is settled in her room..." Xavier began, then he tilted his head slightly and continued, "which she seems to be doing now... despite the fact that I told her to stay in the infirmary for a few more days." Xavier chucked, paused again, then said, "She says she'll stay in bed. She wants to rest a little longer."
Xavier averted his eyes for a moment, and then smiled. "She also says that she knows she's feeling sorry for herself, but she just can't face John or Bobby quite yet. She has asked that Marie visit her tomorrow afternoon, after classes are concluded for the day. And Logan... she's agreed to see you now."
Logan was out the door and down the hall before Xavier could finish his comments. Continuing, he smiled inwardly, "Ororo, Kurt, why don't you wait until tomorrow morning before you go see Buffy? We don't want to overwhelm her."
Logan ran all the way to her door, but hesitated just outside. Shoving his hands in his pockets nervously, he consciously slowed his breathing for a few minutes. From inside, he heard music playing softly, and then Buffy called to him, "Logan, is that you?"
For a few seconds, Logan pressed his forehead against the wood of her door; then he smiled his most charming smile and opened the door.
"Hey kid."
Buffy managed a small grin, "Hola, my friend." Because that's what he is, she reminded herself. He's a strong, sexy friend who also happens to have muscles that strain the seams of his clothes. Maybe he should wear fewer clothes. No! No! Bad Buffy!
Damn but she was adorable! She wore oversized white and navy pinstriped men's pajamas. Maybe Scott's, he thought absently. And her hair was tucked behind her ears on both sides. He almost tripped over her duffle bag and backpack at the foot of her bed.
He realized that he must have been staring when she asked, "Bed head bad?" She lifted both hands and fluffed her hair.
"Nah, not to worry," he smiled.
She moved over, and Logan sat down on the bed next to her. "How's my favorite Slayer?" he asked, searching her face.
"Still breathing...you?" asked Buffy.
"I'm good," he replied, and then a strage expression crossed his face.
"How did you know it was me?"
Buffy grinned a little. "Well, I knew you were coming. Professor Xavier let me know. Plus, I recognized the sound of your boots. Scott told me you were outside the room when we were talking earlier. I think he said you were 'stinking up the hallway'."
She sniffed, then sighed, feigning deep disappointment, "You've been smoking again. Smoking is so not good."
He smiled at her and shrugged nonchalantly.
Picking up her hand, Logan cradled it on his lap. "Are you hungry? Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?"
Buffy looked down. A single, silent tear slid down her cheek. "Yes. No...I..."
"It's Ok," he offered, ducking his head lower to meet her eyes.
"You know you can tell me anything, " he reminded her, as he wiped away her second tear with his thumb.
Buffy shifted, laid down on her pillow, closed her eyes, and whispered, "All of this has been so surreal. I... I need someone... something to hold on to."
Logan nodded, then pulled off his boots and tossed them on the floor. He laid down next to her and she immediately cuddled closer, laying her head on his shoulder. She wrapped an arm over his chest, pressed her long slender form against his side, and hugged him tightly. He gently placed one hand over her forearm and used the other to slowly massage her scalp and the back of her neck.
Buffy began to shudder and her tears fell against his t-shirt. "I...I...k- killed him. I kissed him, shoved the sword through his heart, and let hell pull him down... I...I didn't know what else to do... You sh-should have seen his face. The confusion... the betrayal..."
Logan sighed and nuzzled the top of her head, "You didn't have any other choice, baby."
She lifted her head and looked deeply into his eyes, "I... I could have worked harder with Giles and Willow to restore his soul. I should have prepared better going in... researched, found other ways to stop Acathala... contingency plans..."
Logan leaned down and kissed her forehead, "You did the best you could," he whispered, and kissed her nose, "Don't torture yourself..." Kissing the tears on her cheeks, he spoke against her skin "with what ifs." Buffy's breathing stopped as his lips hovered over hers for a moment, and then he dropped a soft kiss on her chin, his upper lip barely grazing her lower one.
She inhaled again and yielded as he guided her head back to his shoulder with the hand still caught in her hair. "You should get some rest," he muttered, and she promptly fell asleep.
Logan stayed awake for several hours, cursing himself silently for his momentary weakness. Jesus, he thought. I almost kissed her. She's just a little girl. I was an adult when I lost my memory seventeen years ago. She was just being born. She's young enough to be my daughter!
Buffy moaned and threw a leg over his, pressing her hips forward into his side.
For a few moments, Logan reveled in the feel of her warm curves. She doesn't feel like a little girl, though, he mused.
But she is. She's just a baby, he acknowledged sadly.
"Just a baby," he murmured before falling asleep.
A few hours later, Logan woke, his clothes soaked with sweat. He glanced at the clock. The LED screen flickered 2:41 AM. He looked down. Buffy was draped over him. His arms were wrapped around her, one hand on her lower back and the other on her bottom. Her head was pillowed on his right pectoral, and she stirred, brushing her nose and mouth against him. Her breasts were squeezed against his ribcage and... ah Christ, her lower stomach cupped his stirring erection. One leg was alongside his and the other was bent, her knee resting on his thigh. She moaned and shifted her hips upward.
Think about something else, he groaned inwardly. Think about the others. Think about Xavier... and... Scott asleep down the hall. Think about what would happen if Scott walked in right now. Scott would fry his ass to a crisp... and he would be right to do so. If their situations were reversed, he would kill Scott for sure.
Then Buffy moaned and languidly rolled her hips again, and Logan decided that he would go to his death willingly, if only she would promise to never stop.
Buffy was having the loveliest, most erotic dream. Logan was pressing kisses along her inner thigh. She shifted to accommodate him as he whispered words of love, beautiful words over her skin. She shifted again. As his face and body took another shape, she told him that she loved him. Then he rolled away and the dream faded.
Logan stood outside her door and caught his breath.
He needed a shower, but no longer a cold one. Whatever passion Buffy had stirred in him was extinguished the moment she spoke.
"Angel," she'd said. "Angel, I love you."
(end chapter)
reviews = new chapters:)
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters
May 8, 1998 8 PM
Puffing on his cigar, Logan stalked up and down the hallway outside the infirmary. It had been three days since Buffy was found in the dingy LA bus station. When Giles had called to advise them that she had run away and to beg Xavier to find her with Cerebro, Logan had known better than to ask to be on the retrieval team. The others would have seen right through him. Ororo had gone with Scott. Kurt had wanted to go as well, but he would have drawn too much attention. Scott and Ororo needed to move fast in case Buffy tried to evade them. They were fairly certain that she was still in California, so the jet was more than halfway there before Xavier signaled with the exact coordinates.
Logan was waiting just outside the hanger door when Scott carried Buffy in from the plane. She looked so young, wearing overalls, with one of the Xavier School blankets tucked around her. She looked exhausted too, and fragile. Ororo, disgust obscuring her normally gentle features, had told him that they had found Buffy lying in a heap on the floor next to the phones. She had obviously been there for some time. No one had bothered to try and help her.
She was awake now. Scott had gone in over three hours ago. It tore at Logan to hear her sobbing through the door, and it had taken every ounce of his formidable determination not to run in there. She had been crying off and on throughout Scott's visit and Logan fought down the desire to listen to their conversation. It would have been easy enough, but it would have been wrong. She would see him when she was ready. His sense of right and wrong was damned inconvenient sometimes, he thought.
Also, what could have happened to her? Where the hell was Angel? Willow? Xander? Giles? Or her mother, for that matter? How had she made it all the way to LA with no car and no money? How had she survived for three days and two nights away from family and friends with demons out there, not to mention the human predators preying on young girls in big cities? He didn't even want to think about that.
He inhaled deeply and the scent of her tears caused his claws to flutter in and out. Take another deep breath. Relax, he thought. Buffy is a fighter and a survivor. She's made it this far. She'll be alright.
What the hell is taking so long?
Suddenly, the infirmary doors slid open and Scott stepped out.
"Well?" Logan demanded.
"Ah man, she's been through the ringer, hung out to dry, then put through it again. I need a good stiff drink, possibly two, and then I'll tell the team everything."
"Fine, let's go. I'll pour," Logan asserted.
An hour later, Scott had brought Logan, Ororo, Kurt and Xavier up to speed on Principal Snyder, Spike and Drusilla, Angel/Angelus, Kendra, the murder investigation, Joyce's ultimatum, Acathala, and finally, Angel and the portal to hell. Charles Xavier leaned back in his chair and sighed.
"Despite the trauma in her life, Buffy's mind is stronger than it was this time last year, no doubt as a result of her continuing growth as a Slayer. However, so profound is her grief and confusion, that she is terribly vulnerable to depression and despair right now. If we all agree that it is in her best interest to stay with us this summer, and that we are willing to shield her from the authorities..." Xavier paused, waiting until all of the members of the group nodded in approval, "then we must commit to creating a supportive environment for her. Also, we must keep her secrets from the other children. She will tell them when she is ready."
Logan asked, "How long before we can see her?"
"I think it would be best to wait until she is settled in her room..." Xavier began, then he tilted his head slightly and continued, "which she seems to be doing now... despite the fact that I told her to stay in the infirmary for a few more days." Xavier chucked, paused again, then said, "She says she'll stay in bed. She wants to rest a little longer."
Xavier averted his eyes for a moment, and then smiled. "She also says that she knows she's feeling sorry for herself, but she just can't face John or Bobby quite yet. She has asked that Marie visit her tomorrow afternoon, after classes are concluded for the day. And Logan... she's agreed to see you now."
Logan was out the door and down the hall before Xavier could finish his comments. Continuing, he smiled inwardly, "Ororo, Kurt, why don't you wait until tomorrow morning before you go see Buffy? We don't want to overwhelm her."
Logan ran all the way to her door, but hesitated just outside. Shoving his hands in his pockets nervously, he consciously slowed his breathing for a few minutes. From inside, he heard music playing softly, and then Buffy called to him, "Logan, is that you?"
For a few seconds, Logan pressed his forehead against the wood of her door; then he smiled his most charming smile and opened the door.
"Hey kid."
Buffy managed a small grin, "Hola, my friend." Because that's what he is, she reminded herself. He's a strong, sexy friend who also happens to have muscles that strain the seams of his clothes. Maybe he should wear fewer clothes. No! No! Bad Buffy!
Damn but she was adorable! She wore oversized white and navy pinstriped men's pajamas. Maybe Scott's, he thought absently. And her hair was tucked behind her ears on both sides. He almost tripped over her duffle bag and backpack at the foot of her bed.
He realized that he must have been staring when she asked, "Bed head bad?" She lifted both hands and fluffed her hair.
"Nah, not to worry," he smiled.
She moved over, and Logan sat down on the bed next to her. "How's my favorite Slayer?" he asked, searching her face.
"Still breathing...you?" asked Buffy.
"I'm good," he replied, and then a strage expression crossed his face.
"How did you know it was me?"
Buffy grinned a little. "Well, I knew you were coming. Professor Xavier let me know. Plus, I recognized the sound of your boots. Scott told me you were outside the room when we were talking earlier. I think he said you were 'stinking up the hallway'."
She sniffed, then sighed, feigning deep disappointment, "You've been smoking again. Smoking is so not good."
He smiled at her and shrugged nonchalantly.
Picking up her hand, Logan cradled it on his lap. "Are you hungry? Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?"
Buffy looked down. A single, silent tear slid down her cheek. "Yes. No...I..."
"It's Ok," he offered, ducking his head lower to meet her eyes.
"You know you can tell me anything, " he reminded her, as he wiped away her second tear with his thumb.
Buffy shifted, laid down on her pillow, closed her eyes, and whispered, "All of this has been so surreal. I... I need someone... something to hold on to."
Logan nodded, then pulled off his boots and tossed them on the floor. He laid down next to her and she immediately cuddled closer, laying her head on his shoulder. She wrapped an arm over his chest, pressed her long slender form against his side, and hugged him tightly. He gently placed one hand over her forearm and used the other to slowly massage her scalp and the back of her neck.
Buffy began to shudder and her tears fell against his t-shirt. "I...I...k- killed him. I kissed him, shoved the sword through his heart, and let hell pull him down... I...I didn't know what else to do... You sh-should have seen his face. The confusion... the betrayal..."
Logan sighed and nuzzled the top of her head, "You didn't have any other choice, baby."
She lifted her head and looked deeply into his eyes, "I... I could have worked harder with Giles and Willow to restore his soul. I should have prepared better going in... researched, found other ways to stop Acathala... contingency plans..."
Logan leaned down and kissed her forehead, "You did the best you could," he whispered, and kissed her nose, "Don't torture yourself..." Kissing the tears on her cheeks, he spoke against her skin "with what ifs." Buffy's breathing stopped as his lips hovered over hers for a moment, and then he dropped a soft kiss on her chin, his upper lip barely grazing her lower one.
She inhaled again and yielded as he guided her head back to his shoulder with the hand still caught in her hair. "You should get some rest," he muttered, and she promptly fell asleep.
Logan stayed awake for several hours, cursing himself silently for his momentary weakness. Jesus, he thought. I almost kissed her. She's just a little girl. I was an adult when I lost my memory seventeen years ago. She was just being born. She's young enough to be my daughter!
Buffy moaned and threw a leg over his, pressing her hips forward into his side.
For a few moments, Logan reveled in the feel of her warm curves. She doesn't feel like a little girl, though, he mused.
But she is. She's just a baby, he acknowledged sadly.
"Just a baby," he murmured before falling asleep.
A few hours later, Logan woke, his clothes soaked with sweat. He glanced at the clock. The LED screen flickered 2:41 AM. He looked down. Buffy was draped over him. His arms were wrapped around her, one hand on her lower back and the other on her bottom. Her head was pillowed on his right pectoral, and she stirred, brushing her nose and mouth against him. Her breasts were squeezed against his ribcage and... ah Christ, her lower stomach cupped his stirring erection. One leg was alongside his and the other was bent, her knee resting on his thigh. She moaned and shifted her hips upward.
Think about something else, he groaned inwardly. Think about the others. Think about Xavier... and... Scott asleep down the hall. Think about what would happen if Scott walked in right now. Scott would fry his ass to a crisp... and he would be right to do so. If their situations were reversed, he would kill Scott for sure.
Then Buffy moaned and languidly rolled her hips again, and Logan decided that he would go to his death willingly, if only she would promise to never stop.
Buffy was having the loveliest, most erotic dream. Logan was pressing kisses along her inner thigh. She shifted to accommodate him as he whispered words of love, beautiful words over her skin. She shifted again. As his face and body took another shape, she told him that she loved him. Then he rolled away and the dream faded.
Logan stood outside her door and caught his breath.
He needed a shower, but no longer a cold one. Whatever passion Buffy had stirred in him was extinguished the moment she spoke.
"Angel," she'd said. "Angel, I love you."
(end chapter)
reviews = new chapters:)