ANs: Pull out the new kleenex box, y'all. For the next chapter or so, you might need it.

Ginger: Hey bebe! So glad you like it! I hope that I've improved over time and that you continue to enjoy it. As I mentioned, it's about to get a little rocky, but all will be resolved at the end. Hang in there:)

Krazy Babe: Ask and receive, honey. I'm glad that you liked the last chapter. This one took a little while, and I hope that you like it just as much.

Hugs! sita:)

Twist and Turn

Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters

July 30, 2000 10PM

Logan was in over his head. He knew that mutual, simultaneous love was supposed to be good. At least that's what the movies claimed. But this much good bordered on the absurd and it made him more than a little uneasy. While he had endured a few little squabbles with Buffy, he had yet to find any of her major flaws. They had to be there, right? He had plenty. And it wasn't as if he hadn't been looking closely. But so far, no dice. Maybe this was what people meant when they said love was blind.

He chose to tell himself that she was destined to be his wife, as to do otherwise would have made it impossible to keep his promise to Giles and their secret from her. Underneath it all, he believed that she could handle it. He believed that ultimately she would do the right thing and continue on as the Slayer, despite her dream to someday live like a 'normal girl'. He also knew that he was the worst kind of full of shit hypocrite for keeping this from her. But, if she knew the truth, it was conceivable that in a fit of anger she might insist on the reversal of the spell. She also might resent him for his part in keeping the secret and turn her back on him for good. And to Logan, just the thought of that felt like a cruise missile to the chest.

The worst part was that she made him want to be a better man. With her, he wanted to move beyond his past and the circumstances that had shaped him. Not that he wouldn't willingly destroy anyone who tried to hurt her, that was a given. But slowly over the past few months, he began to realize that he had to try to meet her halfway. He never knew that being in a relationship required so much thought. But if that was what she needed, he would do his best, even if it meant taking romance tips from Rogue and crap from Scott.

When he came to live at the school, for the first time in his memory, he had begun to care what other people thought of him. But his need to look good in Buffy's eyes blotted out any desire he had for respect from his friends. By some miracle, he was the luckiest Joe on earth. He'd heard somewhere that it wasn't hard to find a good woman. The hardest part was keeping her. And because of that, he was trying to be what he thought she wanted. For example, although he wasn't a sharing kind of guy, he found himself lying on the couch with her in his room, listening to her and answering her questions as well as he could.

They had just finished watching Notorious which was an old Hitchcock film that Buffy said was about US spies working against Nazis in South America. She'd failed to mention that the spy stuff was just a cover to get guys to watch a love story. He hadn't minded too much, until she wanted to talk about it.

Buffy sighed, "I think that Devlin fell for Alicia the first time they met, don't you?"

"Mmm-hmm," was all that Logan could think to say. Looking down at his woman, he noticed a bite mark on the right side of the base of her neck. Why hadn't he seen that before?

"Logan, are you listening to me?" she asked impatiently.

"Wha... yeah, of course I was." Then touching her scar, he wondered aloud, "What happened here?"

Buffy hesitated and sat up, covering the scar with her hand self- consciously.

I can't believe that you let a vamp get that close, is all," he teased, lamely trying to distract her from her apparent distress.

"Can we talk about something else? It was a long time ago, and I'd really rather not go there." she asserted sharply.

"Ok, if that's what you want," he agreed. But he didn't like not knowing.

Over the next few days, he had tried to let it go. He knew that he should. No good could come from talking to Buffy about it, as she had remained firm and was clearly going to continue keeping it from him. But he had to admit that they were at an impasse. Despite the secret that he kept from her, the scar gnawed at him. He didn't like that she had a secret, too. If it were a simple matter of some vamp getting the best of Buffy, she would have admitted it. Something else was going on, and he decided to find out what it was before she went back to school.

One morning after returning from a run through the nearby woods with Buffy, he went to his room to shower and change. Sitting down on his bed, he eyed the telephone warily. He knew that he could coax Giles into telling him, but if Buffy found out she would be more than a little upset with both of them.

He shrugged it off and dialed the number anyway.

"Hello," Giles answered.

"Hey Giles, it's Logan. I've got a question about Buffy."

"About Buffy? Is everything alright? Are things not going well between the two of you?"

"Yes, fine. But I want to know about her scar."

"Well..." Giles hesitated, "Buffy has quite a few scars... is there one in particular?"

Logan interrupted, feeling impatient and agitated, "The one on her neck where... that... vampire drank from her."

Giles sighed, and through the telephone Logan could hear him take off his glasses, clean them and put them back on. "So Buffy told you about that, did she? You must be getting along swimmingly for her to talk about that horrible business. I suppose it would seem a bit convoluted. But you must understand she'd already sacrificed so... done so much to restore him to health. And when Faith shot him with the poisoned arrow..."

Logan stopped listening at 'restore him to health'. Of course, it was Angel. It had always been Angel for Buffy. Even when she was with Riley, she was obviously still in love with Angel. Logan tuned back in to Giles when he caught the Englishman mutter 'nearly drained her dry'.

"Sorry Giles, what was that? Static on my end..."

"Oh yes... of course, well... Angel was dying and the only antidote for the poison was a Slayer's blood. Buffy tried to subdue Faith and bring her to the mansion where Angel was residing, but Faith escaped. So Buffy gave herself to Angel. He fed on her and nearly drained her dry. Then he took Buffy to the hospital. Well, I can tell you that Xander, Willow, Oz and I were furious when we met him there. After an infusion of blood, Buffy was better right away, but the scar has never faded. I suppose Buffy left some of the messier details out? She has a way of doing tha..."

Logan cut him off, "Yeah, thanks Giles. I'll be in touch."

Not for the first time in his life, Logan regretted his actions. But this time, he knew he would pay for his mistake more than any other. He wanted to go to Buffy and confront her. He wanted Buffy to tell him that she loved him more. He wanted Buffy to say that she would willingly lay her life down if he had been the one dying. He wanted to go to Buffy and confess about the mating spell. He hoped that she would be able to forgive him. Keeping a promise to Giles was one thing, but he'd gone behind her back to ask about the scar. He asked himself, she would forgive me, wouldn't she?

"Maybe not," he whispered.

And yet, he needed to purge this. His tolerance for bullshit was swiftly reaching its limit. If they were going to make a go of this relationship, she should know everything. He just had to choose the right place and time. And he needed to figure out a way to tell her.

Later that night, Buffy was seriously irritated. Logan obviously had something on his mind. He wanted to talk to her but he kept putting it off. They had worked out with a vengeance all day: running, weight lifting, sparring, and she didn't have the benefit of his seemingly instant recovery.

She had put her pink satin pajamas on, but he was still in his white tank top, old worn jeans, and dingy white socks. His scuffed boots were on the floor next to her bed. For a guilty moment, she wished that he had some fashion acumen, but she reasoned that the two strong arms wrapped around her were a decent substitution.

If only he would let her go to sleep.

"Buffy, I think we need to..." Logan began slowly.

"Logan, the longer you keep me awake, the more you're becoming my least favorite person. Can't we talk tomorrow?"

Logan pulled her closer against him and whispered, "Sure, darlin'. I'll just stay until you fall asleep."

Logan hadn't meant to go to sleep. But he wasn't worried about it either. Since starting his relationship with Buffy earlier that summer, he had slept easier. It was as if Buffy was a soothing balm on his torn and tattered soul, and he loved her all the more for it.

But tonight he dreamt of Buffy and Angel.

At first, it was only flashes of them talking and laughing. His mind shuttered across the sight of them dancing together and Angel putting his hands on Buffy's shoulders in the board room. When Buffy covered Angel's chalk white hands with her tiny tanned ones, Logan had felt anger roll through him. Until recently, he didn't know the reason.

Then, Buffy was standing in the middle of a fire lit room. She reached up, unbuttoned, and pulled the neckline of her shirt over. From the shadows, Angel stalked her, circling closer, until finally he stopped behind her. Logan tried to call out to Buffy, to save her from the vampire and from herself, but his voice didn't work. He tried to rush between them, to block the attack, but his body wouldn't let him move. So he just stood still, struggling against this impotent paralysis, while Angel kissed his woman from her lips to her neck. Then lifting slightly, Angel's face altered and the demon within took over. Grinning at his victory over Logan, Angel said, "She's was mine first and she always will be." Then he slowly lowered his bared teeth to Buffy's neck and pierced the skin.

Hours later, Logan stirred. Just before waking, he smelled Buffy's blood. For a moment, he was relieved. She was no longer fertile, at least for a while, and the driving need that rode him to make love with her would be lessened. Then he realized that there was too much blood. It permeated the air all around him.

Shaking, he bolted upright and was sickened by what he saw. Buffy's bed was ripped apart. He was lying in the middle of it, but Buffy wasn't there. Instead, gashes left by his claws marked the mattress and wooden headboard, and the sheets and pillow were stained and in shreds around him. Looking down at his fists, he knew the blood wasn't his. He had Buffy's dried blood on his hands.

He staggered into the hallway, and cried out for her, "Buf-fy!"

Everyone who heard him stayed behind their bedroom and office doors, pretending they had not. The staff members and students who knew what had happened did not want to give him the news. Those who did not know what had happened to Professor Logan's girlfriend knew better than to step out into the hall and risk his wrath.

Running toward the infirmary, Logan heard Xavier's voice in his head saying, "Logan, she's not that way. I'm in my office... I can tell you where she is."

"Where. Is. She!" Logan roared at the top of his lungs, as he hunched lower and his claws snapped out.

Xavier spoke to his mind again, "Try to calm down, Logan. Buffy is alive. Just come down here..."

Suddenly, Professor Xavier's door slammed open, and a seething Logan stepped inside.

"Well!" he demanded angrily.

Xavier studied his friend for a few seconds. His claws were still extended, and his fists tightened and opened at an uneven staccato. Logan's face was a mask of internalized fury, and even though he must have known that she was not there, his eyes traveled over every corner of the room. "Well, where the hell is she?"

"Buffy has gone home, Logan."

Logan's claws retracted sharply, and he stepped forward aggressively, "What? When?"

"Logan," Xavier intoned gently, "Why don't you sit down?"

Confusion, remorse, and then dejection crossed Logan's face, "Yeah... No! Just tell me, man."

Xavier nodded as Logan dropped into the seat in front of the professor's desk. "At about 1AM, Buffy was cut and stabbed through the back by your claws. She got as far as Scott's door and woke him before passing out. Scott rushed her to the hospital, and on the way contacted her mother, Mrs. Joyce Summers, and myself. Buffy's mother was insistent that as soon as Buffy was stable, she was to be transferred to Sunnydale General on our jet. The doctor's cautioned her about the risk, but knowing that our jet could have Buffy to Sunnydale in less than an hour, she insisted."

"But why didn't anyone bother to wake me? Didn't you think that I would want to be with her?" Logan challenged fiercely.

"Yes, of course, Logan, don't be ridiculous," Charles Xavier agreed testily. Then, taking a breath, he eased the harshness in his tone, "I wanted to wake you, but I am not Buffy's family. Put yourself in Scott's shoes. Buffy comes to your door in the middle of the night. She's cut and bleeding. At what point do you think to notify her attacker? Would you invite him along to the hospital, even if he is a friend? I think not."

Logan started to stand, and then sat back down. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows irreverently on the desk in front of him and scrubbed his face with his hands.

Looking up, he admitted the truth, "No, I would kill the bastard."

"Yes, I know you would have, but you are still here and Buffy is alive. Her mother has forbidden any contact between Buffy and anyone at the school except for Scott. She has asked most specifically that you stay away from her daughter. I know your first instinct is to rush to Sunnydale, but I think that under the circumstances that would be a bad idea. Why not allow the Summers' this time to heal. Give them some room."

Numbly, Logan nodded his ascent, slowly stood, and dragged himself out of the office.

From down the hallway, he heard Professor Xavier muttering to himself, "Things seemed to be going so well, if only this hadn't..."

Logan walked back to Buffy's room to face what he had done. As he passed Scott's door the scent of Buffy's blood in the carpet stung him. Although the blood had been efficiently removed by the cleaning staff, if he focused, he could still detect it behind the chemical solution. He walked through her door and relived what must have happened.

In doing so, he was momentarily distracted from his intended self-inflicted punishment. All of her things were still there. He checked drawers, and her clothes were still folded inside. More clothes and shoes were in the closet. He assumed that Scott and Ororo had flown Buffy in the jet and would be back in a few days to pack everything and send it to California.

On the floor near the bed, he saw Buffy's stuffed pig, Mr. Gordo. Trying not to think about the blood on the sheets for a moment, he gently picked up Mr. Gordo, pressed the toy to his face, and inhaled Buffy's clinging scent. A perversely irrational thought crossed Logan's mind and he decided to go with it. Scott could send everything else. Mr. Gordo was going nowhere.

For the next ten days, Logan didn't know what to do with himself. He walked around in a muddled fog. On Sunday morning, he found himself disoriented, walking aimlessly through the halls after a brief run-in with Scott. Prior to this argument, Scott had been doing his best to ignore Logan.

Finally, Logan couldn't stand it anymore. He'd walked right up to Scott and asked about Buffy's recovery. Scott warned him to stay away from her. When Logan asked him if he thought he or anyone else could stop him from getting to Buffy, Scott's reply had haunted him.

Scott had looked at him derisively and said, "No more than you can stop hurting her."

Unexpectedly, Logan looked up and realized that he had wandered to the front of the gym door. Pushing through the swinging double doors, he walked over and stopped directly in front of the punching bag. A desire to hit something lifted his fist and slammed it into the bag. Logan grunted, as he began hammering the punching bag with both hands. He felt his knuckles split but ignored it. As he continued to work the bag, blood trickled, patterning down his arms, and splattered on his grey shirt, jeans, and the mat beneath him.

He would let her run away. He'd let her run for as long as he could. If he were a good man, he'd let her run forever. Her mother was right to take her away. She should have gone home long ago. She should have gone back to Angel. It was clear that he still loved her. The vampire could have left Sunnydale for anywhere in the world, but instead remained close to her, only two hours away. Somehow Angel already knew what he had just come to realize.

Angel was the one she was truly destined to be with, no matter what Giles said.

(end chapter)