Logan grunted. His muscles trembled. Sweat rolled down his brow.
Marie was grinning.
"Still think Yoga is for wimps?"
He snorted a noncommittal response and mentally cursed. He wasn't going to be able to hold this position for long.
"Your balance is off."
She was next to him and then she was touching him, one hand on his thigh, lightly stretching his leg to the proper position, the other hand on the flat of his spine, leveling him out. His balance improved, but the thoughts that had been in his head since leaving her room last night continued to make him struggle.
"There," she said. "The Warrior number four pose."
He guessed he should feel like an ass. Here he was, in the middle of the forest, precariously balanced on one leg while the rest of him was trembling as he strived to keep his other leg, torso, and arms parallel with the ground. Thank God no one was around to see this. Scooter would never let him live this shit down.
His calf muscles locked up and Logan grunted again.
"Okay, straighten up slowly into the Sun Salutation. No, not like that, use your stomach muscles. Control it."
Down his leg went, sweet relief, and his back arched as he raised his arms over his head, copying the move she'd shown him earlier.
"Very good." She led him through another series of poses before wrapping up the session. "Now, at the end of each routine, we end with the Corpse pose. Move to the center of your blanket and lie down on your back, your legs slightly apart and your arms slightly away from your body."
He angled his blanket away from a patch of sunlight that had fallen on it and lay down. He couldn't believe how much his body ached. He felt like he'd just gone through five rounds with Sabretooth and come out the loser.
"Close your eyes. Relax your body, relax your mind. Release any tension starting with the tips of your toes, moving up your leg…your calves…use your power breathing like I taught you…moving up now, your thighs are relaxed…your shoulders…the tips of your fingers-"
He heard her pacing around him, heard her drop down beside him. Her hand closed around his wrist and lifted his arm.
"You're still tense. Relax your arm, Logan. Let it hang free."
This was a new thing for him. It wasn't easy...not at all. Yeah, he was a master of control. When hunting, his entire being was focused on the target. But there was always action involved with his focus; hunting, driving, fucking...he'd never tried focusing while doing nothing whatsoever. He tried again to relax.
She shook his wrist again, this time it was limp in her grasp. She lowered his arm to the ground. Standing, she walked to her own blanket.
"Continue moving up, releasing all tension, past your jaw, your ears, your eyebrows, all the way to the ends of your hair. Continue your breathing. Give yourself a few minutes, stay in this position, concentrate on being completely relaxed." She fell silent and lay down, going through the release of the Corpse pose in silence.
When she came back to herself, she felt his presence nearby before even opening her eyes. She turned her head in the direction she thought he was in and squinted in the morning light. Sure enough, he was leaning against the tree closest to her, chewing on a twig and gazing at the morning clouds.
Marie sat up and patted the blanket in a silent invitation.
Waiting, giving himself time to make it his own idea, he finally pushed himself off the tree and sat next to her. Well, 'sat' in the loosest terms; he sprawled across the blanket, crossing one long leg over the other and leaning back on his elbows. He was in dark sweatpants and a white undershirt and his feet were bare.
"What did you think of your first yoga lesson?" She was curious.
"Not bad," he admitted grudgingly. "It's not as easy as it looks."
"How does your back feel?"
That got him grinning. "Really not bad."
"You should stretch more before you start your little escapades in the Danger Room. Just 'cause you regenerate doesn't mean you shouldn't treat your body right beforehand."
Logan looked over at her. She was leaning back on her hands, legs in a lotus position, her face turned away as she gazed at a flower in a nearby bush. She was sweaty, in her dull gray workout scrubs, and still she was absolutely stunning.
Marie spoke, interrupting his thoughts. "Sorry for conking out on you last night."
"It's ok," Logan shrugged, "I didn't mind." He glanced at Marie. "My idea worked then?"
"I guess."
He guessed too; she'd had no problem with little touches this morning; moving his elbow higher for the Sun Salutation, straightening his neck for the Downward Dog pose. They lounged in companionable silence for a while, content to sit in the morning sunshine.
"Logan?"
"Yeah?"
She didn't look at him. Hadn't even known she had wanted to ask him this until it came out of her mouth. "Can I ask you something super personal?"
His chin tucked in toward the ground and his brows furrowed. He shrugged and nodded.
"Before you escaped from Stryker...the first time...what was it like? What was the worst part?"
He took a deep breath. It was something he didn't like to talk about. With anyone. Of course, Marie wasn't everyone. She'd been through something very similar to what he'd experienced. Being the non-consentual subject of genetic experiments wasn't something that happened to everyone on the block. He'd been expecting something like this but knowing it was coming and actually discussing it were two different things.
"The pain." He paused. "It never stopped. I could..."
It had been over ten years since he escaped. Nightmares plagued him, the need for answers drove him on a decade long quest, and yet this was the first time he had talked about it, really talked about not just what happened but how he felt. He had to wait a moment for the lump in his throat to dissolve.
"...I could see them watching me. Making notations. Hovering. Watching me scream..." A shudder ran through him. The light, relaxed feeling from Yoga was gone and he was suddenly aware of how heavy his body felt. Three hundred pounds of adamantium-laced heavy. "I tried to kill myself. But every time I slashed my wrists, every time I cut my throat, I would heal." Logan sighed. "I just wanted to die."
Marie reached over and squeezed his hand. When he glanced at her there were tears in her eyes. She was nodding in sympathy and he wasn't annoyed at her womanly reaction like he'd normally be if it were some trailer trash and not Marie. He was inside her head, she'd seen exactly what had happened. Not just scenes as if from a movie, like Jean saw, but the entire memory in one solid chunk. Why had they never talked about this before?
Marie was crying now.
"Listen darlin', we don't have to talk about this-"
"No," she insisted, sliding her hand out from under his to wipe at her cheeks. "We do. It's just hard...I had you in my head for such a long time...I saw what you went through, I had nightmares for weeks. But I never really knew...how awful it had been for you...until I...I..."
Her throat closed up for a second. She turned her mind away from the hurt, and distanced herself from the memories until she was calm again. "The worst part for me was waiting to die. I didn't want to die...but I couldn't imagine there being so much pain while living."
He wasn't sure he could hear this, but he knew she needed to tell him. "What did they do?"
Marie chuckled, but it was sad. "It was another machine. Not like Magneto's, but it reminded me of it. It was like...being caught in the middle of a lightning bolt while someone tap danced on my DNA. Dr. Sinister...he told me beforehand what he was going to do. That I was nothing more than a lab rat. Mystique even made a joke about it, told me they were doing me a favor. Like my mutation was something I'd rather be without."
She grinned at him.
"This isn't funny."
Her grin grew slightly wider. "You know what I kept thinking about the entire time it was happening?"
"What?"
"You."
He swallowed. "Me?"
"Yeah. You. If you could survive...then so could I."
Marie seemed to have said her piece, and there was silence again.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there."
"You can't be there all the time."
"I promised I would take care of you. I promised."
She shook her head at him. "You promised a fifteen year old girl who had no family and no friends that you'd watch out for her. That was almost seven years ago. I'm not that kid anymore, I don't need you there to watch out for me all the time." She patted his hand and smiled sadly. "Anyway...I didn't want to talk to anyone on the team about...you know...cause they...they wouldn't know. So thanks."
"No problem." He felt a moment coming on, a pause in the conversation that he would find himself filling with words that he wasn't sure either of them wanted to hear right now. Luckily, she stood and stretched.
"What do you want to do now?"
He wanted to kiss her.
"Go get your knives."
Marie groaned. "You're not gonna throw more apples are you?"
He didn't throw apples. But three hours, two shallow cuts, and a barrelful of bruises later, she was ready to scream.
It sounded like a good idea, so she did scream. Right in his ear, as he closed in for an attack. It bought her five seconds of surprise, which gave Marie enough time to grab a fistful of his shirt, hook her leg around his and push. HARD.
He fell down, and she was on top of him, her knees on either side of his hips, more than slightlysurprised that her ployworked.
He was surprised too. This was only a training excercise, but Logan always approached each session like he would a real fight. No sense in doing anything half-assed, right? So he should have just lifted her off of him- it's not like she weighed that much-
But he hesitated.
He fucking hesitated.
It was just the sight of her, above him, panting and flushed and grinning at herself for actually pinning him, her hair hanging loose and free and framing her face in chestnut and snow white waves-
He remembered the moment in the tent, Mystique/Marie hoveringover him with a knowing smile on her face, and the resulting shame for wanting an eighteen year-old girl...the guilt for not being there to save her when she needed him the most-
"Logan?" Her dark eyebrows knit together in confused worry. Marie knew he never lowered his defenses; not during a fight. His eyes were focused on something over her shoulder.
She was straddling him, he could almost feel the heat of her through his sweats. It would be so easy to flip her, cover her, cut a hole in her sweats while pushing his down at the same time-
NO! This was MARIE!
He bared his teeth and growled, a deep rumble in his chest that tickled its way out his throat.
A wary look crossed her face. Marie had heard that sound before and slowly rolled back on her feet, moving away calmlybut not running- God no, running would only provoke him into chasing -her hands deliberately kept in the open within his sight.
"Logan?" She tried to keep the fear from her voice but it was hard. He may have been AWOL for a few years, but she'd heard that sound before and she knew it meant trouble. LOTS of it. It was the sound of the Wolverine struggling to be freed. "Come on, sugar, you're scaring me. Logan, say something."
He sat up, his fingernails digging into the ground so hard it hurt. He looked up at her from beneath furrowed brows.
"Something," he growled. It was all he could manage. She looked calm but he could smell her fear and it was stimulating him in all the wrong ways. His desire for her opened the Wolverine's cage, and the mixture of arousal and fear in her scent was luring the animal out in the open. Logan had to control it before it slipped completely out of his grasp. If that happened he'd fuck her or kill her...he wasn't really sure which.
"Are you all right?"
He laughed and it was harsh. "Fine, kid."
"Do you-"
"I said I'm FINE," he barked. The muzzle was on the Wolverine and he was regaining control. "Lesson's over for today."
"I guess so," she whispered. "I'm gonna...go for a walk...I'll see you around dinnertime."
She walked backwards, not turning her back on him until she was around the cabin and out of sight. She wasn't lying; she really was going to go for a walk. The abrupt shift in his moods scared her and she wanted time alone.
She kept the knife sheaths on.
She walked all the way to the lake, her muscles sore from being locked into defensive mode for the last hour and a half. Marie had no idea what had set Logan off- maybe sharing about the experiments was too much for him- but she couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't follow her...wouldn't try to overprotect her. Shit even...hunt her. It felt like such a wrong thing to think...but then she remembered the animal quality of his growl, the wild light in his eyes, and she'd get paranoid again. So every now and then she'd stop and listen, her fingers twitching toward the blades that lay along her skin. She never thought she'd be reassured by their presence; she'd been wrong.
There'd been no noise, no sense of being watched. He was leaving her alone, and for the first time in a long time, she was glad he wasn't coming after her.
Marie toed off her shoes and hooked her socks off. Rolling her pant legs up to her knees, she sat on the dock and dangled her toes in the cool water.
What had set him off? She'd seen him caught off guard in the Danger Room before, and he'd never reacted like that. In fact, the only times he ever let the Wolverine loose was when he was enraged...or afraid.
Afraid.
Some of his memories resided in her head. She knew how he'd panicked when he first woke up at the mansion. Saw it as if she had been there. The reaction to the needle then and his reaction to her on top of him had been nearly one and the same. Only this time he managed to control himself.
What was he afraid of?
Was he afraid of her?
Was he afraid for her?
Why?
The most likely explanation would be that he was afraid she couldn't defend herself. His big-brother position in her life had been threatened when he hadn't been around to protect her, and he was feeling (rather stupidly, in her opinion) that he had failed her. That was the excuse he'd come charging back into her life with: that he wanted to support her and protect her while she recovered from the experiments. But she'd successfully managed to pin him, gain the upper hand in a fight. That usually deserved a grin and a hug instead of a growl.
So what about her suddenlypresented a threat?
It wasn't a rhetorical question. She needed to know the answer, but every time she tried to center on a possibility, the idea would skate around and slip through her fingers. It was damned frustrating.
Marie wiggled her toes in the water. The temperature had been getting colder every day. The lake was cool but it wasn't freezing.
She removed the arm sheaths and stood. Slowly, methodically, she pulled her shirt over her head. It was followed by her sweatpants. She debated about her bra and panties and decided to keep them dry as well. First the bra; she shivered as it slid down her arms, and her breasts immediately peaked in the light breeze. She pushed her panties off her hips and down her legs and kicked them to the side.
Before the experiments, before her skin was normal, she sometimes liked to sneak down to the Olympic-sized pool in the mansion and skinny dip. It was always empty at two in the morning, and it was one of the only times she could be comfortable in her mutation. It was always relaxing, and right now she really needed to relax.
Marie dove off the pier.
She surfaced, gasping and laughing at the cold shock of the water. Oh, but it felt so good on her bare skin.
She swam lazily, never straying too far from the shore, while her mind kept petting the question of why, why...why?
He hadn't come back for Jean and Scott's wedding. She'd seen the invitation; hell she helped stuff the envelopes. He hadn't come back when the Professor had suffered a mild heart attack. He had deliberately stayed away from the X-Men for years, only to come running back when she was hurting most.
He came back for her.
What did that mean? Was she his permanent ward? Was his reputation threatened when he failed to protect her? He cared for her; that was obvious.
Just how much did he care?
Slowly, Marie stopped her strokes and instead floated in place, her ears filled with the muted song of the lake, her face turned up to the clouds drifting by overhead.
She could lie to him and to the X-Men but she couldn't lie to herself. When she pinned him it had felt good in more ways than one. Sure, actually toppling him was a notch to her ego, but feeling him between her thighs was a huge accomplishment for her libido. She liked being on top.
What if he'd liked it too?
Marie gasped.
The swim did more than clear her thoughts. She was aware of every single action and look he threw her way. Or lackthereof; he'd avoided her most of the day, coming back to the cabin only now, only at night, and looking like he'd rolled around in a mudpile.
"You look like hell."
He didn't turn around at her contrary compliment. She didn't relent.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." He paused. "Sorry bout this morning."
She tried to circle around to see his face, he deliberately turned away. She frowned. "Don't worry about it." Logan was acting closed, sullen. She wanted him grinning and playful so she could test out her theory. That Logan was a lot easier to potentially flirt with. One more try-
"Want me to make dinner?"
"Already ate."
Strike three. Marie shrugged and retreated to her closet/bedroom to change out of her sweatsuit. It was getting late, and they probably weren't going to be going outside again. Which left the two of them, alone and moody, together in the cabin. Great. She contemplated the silky nightgown Jubilee and Kitty had smuggled into the pile of clothes Logan gathered, and discarded the idea quickly: too obvious. Low cut jeans and a tube top? Too immature.
She scowled. She wasn't cut out to be a seductress. Yesterday she could barely stand being touched. The scowl turned into a sigh; it was a stupid idea anyway. She snatched a pair of dark blue pajama pants and a tank top and headed for the shower. He was fiddling with something in the sink and didn't turn around as she crossed the room. She paused in the doorway.
"Can you build a fire?" she asked.
He didn't respond. She sighed and shut herself in the bathroom.
Slightly miffed, she rinsed the lake-water out of her hair with the taps turned to scalding. Typical. It was so typical of him to reside in her head like a smug parasite. Maybe her idea was stupid; even if she was right, even if he did want her as much as she wanted him, then what? She couldn't see him settling down to life in the mansion, and she couldn't see herself deserting the X-Men for a life on the road.
Were there other options? Was her heart strong enough to survive a fling?
Was she even right in the first place?
Marie stepped out of the shower and toweled herself off more briskly than usual.
She was no longer a mutant. That fact was becoming easier to live with every day. She could touch. She could be touched. It was only a matter of time before the urges to move on with her life started; the desire to find a man, start a family. In her heart of hearts she was still a Southern belle and she had their natural born instinct to live in a large house with drooping willow trees, sitting on a front porch fanning herself while watching her children romp in the yard. It was a secret dream of hers that until a month ago, could be nothing more than a fantasy.
She'd eventually want these things. She'd eventually find a man, whether it was Remy or Bobby or someone else.
Marie stared at herself in the mirror. Her resolve hardened.
Even if he couldn't be the one to share her dream of a home and children, she wanted Logan to be her first.
Even if he was brooding, he started a fire that warmed the cabin.
He was sitting on a log outside watching the sunset and smoking a cigar as she fixed herself dinner. By the time he came back inside it was fully dark and she was curled up on the sofa reading more of Red Dragon and drinking a beer. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of the filched bottle but didn't say anything. He wound up sitting in the battered armchair opposite her, reading some Tom Clancy book.
"Why so moody?" she said without glancing up from her book.
He grunted. "I'm not moody."
"Liar." She turned a page. "Wanna talk about it?"
"No."
She shrugged and wiggled further into the couch cushions. "Suit yourself." She took a swig of her beer and read three more pages before adding, "but you're being an ass."
Logan mock-growled at her. "Am not."
"Are too."
"Just let it drop, kid."
She put her book down and rolled on her side, facing him. "I'm not the one that got pissy after he got knocked down."
"It's not that, okay?"
"Then what?"
He scowled and buried his nose in the book so far he wouldn't be able to read the pages without going permanently cross-eyed.
Marie rolled her eyes and picked her book back up, opened it back to where the killer was primping before his next attack. "See? Liar. So you got knocked down by a girl. So what?"
"Marie-"
She ignored him. "I know what's bothering you. I tell you what: next time, you can be on top." What a perfect innuendo...
She maintained an innocent face as he threw the book down and grabbed the sleeping bag from the corner before storming outside. He slammed the front door shut with so much force that that cabin shook.
Marie grinned and took another sip of beer.
Bingo.