Disclaimer: Logan doesn't belong to me, which makes me very sad. He (along with the rest of the X-Men) belongs to Fox and Marvel. Angela, Buzz and some other people you'll be meeting soon DO belong to me and they get upset if other people play with them...so leave them alone!

Note: For all my American readers, happy 4th of July! Call this an Independence Day gift...:)

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Interlude: Dreaming

(Angela)

The light glints off the razor-sharp edge of the scalpel as a gloved hand lowers it slowly to your flesh. A wire-thin probe at the base of your skull keeps you from moving, but not from feeling the pain as it parts the flesh along your arms. A new pain flares up as the scalpel cuts through muscle, all the way to the bone. Your eyes widen in horror as you see your radius and ulna reflected in the facemask of your torturer. Clamps are attached to the edges of your flesh, keeping it from slowly drawing closed before they can finish their work. But this pain isn't anything you can't handle. They've cut you open before, when they were testing you upon your arrival to see if you were a good candidate for the program. They'd all but vivisected you then, opening you up from neck to navel, just to see what would happen. The shock had overloaded your system and you'd gone into cardiac arrest. Before they could do anything, you died.

The next day, just before you were to be taken to the crematorium on the other side of the lake, you came back. It was wholly unexpected; they hadn't known something like this was possible. But you'd sat straight up on the gurney with a gasp, looking around with wild eyes for something, anything to lash out at. The private that had been assigned to transport duties was the only person present and what was left of him wasn't worth talking about. Your status was changed from "deceased" to "operative" at that moment.

And now they were beginning the process of augmenting you. The head of the Weapon X project, William Stryker, had discovered a way to manipulate adamantium and had dubbed you "Hellcat". You were to be the one of the first of what he hoped would be many more like you. Naturally, they had to experiment with the best way to apply the adamantium to your skeleton. Would grafting it to the outside be enough? Or should it be injected into the bone marrow? They were reluctant to try the latter, not knowing if you would be able to live very long if you lost the ability to create new red blood cells. So, external grafting it was.

A high-pitched whine fills the room as a bone saw is turned on. They were scoring your bones before applying the metal, grinding them down and leaving only the tiniest bit of bone uncovered. In fact, just enough that the marrow would still be able to perform its main function. Once finished with that, they bring the gun-like injector up and slowly, carefully, apply metal that was roughly the same temperature as the earth's core to the exposed bones.

Bloodcurdling screams erupt from your throat, tearing the walls of your windpipe with their strength. The torturer never hesitates, simply continues with his work until the bones are covered in the marked areas. Without bothering to attempt to cool it, your muscles and skin are carefully put back in place and the torturer goes to the other side of the table to do the other arm. He continues this grim work until you finally expire with a gasp and a sigh of relief. Knowing full well you'll recover by the next day, he moves to continue on the delicate bones in your hands, but a gesture from someone across the room stays his hand.

"Stop for now. We'll continue when she comes back." Stryker said.

"Sir, wouldn't it be easier to do it now, when there's less chance she'll resist?" The torturer replied.

"Maybe. But we have her brat. By the looks of it, she'll become an active mutant within the year. As long as she's alive, Hellcat here will do anything we tell her to do. Besides, it'll be a good lesson for her. She'll know that we are capable of inflicting far more damage to her than she could ever do to us." He motions to a soldier who wheels the table to the side of the lab. "Of course, there has to be a way we can do more than a couple bones at a time. We'll give her a few days to recover from this while I figure something out."

Neither Stryker nor the torturer ever knew that, although you were dying, you hadn't died before hearing that exchange. Your dying thought is that someday, you will find a way to get revenge on them. No matter the cost.

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Chapter 3.

(Angela)

I sat straight up in the bed, screaming. I had a vague sense of Logan springing out of bed, probably preparing to defend me from whatever demon it was that woke me. But it was inner demons that I was fighting, something he couldn't do anything about.

I was in a state halfway between awake and dreaming and I felt like a passenger in my own body. I could hear Logan's voice, but it sounded miles away. "Angela! Wake up, baby, it was a dream!" He said, a note of panic in his voice. "Darlin', please. Come back to me. It's ok, it's over. Whatever it was, it's over." I felt him smoothing the hair away from my forehead, but when he gathered me into his arms, my body reacted before I could pull myself fully awake and I pushed him away. "Angela, please!" He was pleading with me, but my mind was still not my own.

"Get away from me! Just stop it!" I yelled, but my voice sounded foreign to my ears. "I'll gut you, I swear to fucking god!"

He backed away a bit and held his hands up in front of me in a gesture of peace. "Angela, come on. It's over. You're here with me, at the mansion. It's over." He sounded much closer now and my eyes came into clearer focus. I felt his hands cup my face and force me to look into his eyes. "It's me, Logan. You're safe."

Finally, the dream lost its hold on me and was fully awake. "Logan? Oh gods!" I threw myself into his arms and wept uncontrollably. I felt him stroking my back and he whispered softly to me, letting me work it out until I was done. I was still trembling in fear and my heart was pounding in my chest.

It took about an hour, but I finally calmed down enough to talk. He pushed me away from me a little and wiped the tears from my face. "You ok now baby?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Gods, I haven't dreamed about that in almost ten years!"

"The lab?"

"Yeah. The first process, when they did my arms. Before Stryker came up with the tank."

"Before? You mean he put this shit in you out in the open?" I nodded again and he pulled me back to his shoulder. "Jesus darlin', why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I try not to think about it anymore. I can't even describe how it felt; it was beyond pain. They only got to the forearms that first time before I died on them."

"How long after that did he come up with the tank?"

"I don't know, maybe the third or fourth time. They did all my small bones without it."

His arms tightened around me and I could feel him trembling, but in rage instead of fear. "I swear, darlin', if it's the last thing I do, I will find every one of those bastards."

"I know, Logan." I whispered, wrapping my arms around him. "We'll get them, someday. We'll get them." I lifted my face and kissed him softly, pulling him back down to the bed with me. I snuggled up to his side, resting my head on his shoulder and he held me close until I fell asleep again. It's been over fifteen years and still that place hangs over us like some damn ghost. My last thought before I once again sank into dreams was of revenge. I wanted those bastards to pay for what they did to us, inflict pain upon them for the sake of doing it. Then, I would sit back and watch them die. And I would do it all with a song in my heart.

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I came awake slowly as the first gray light of dawn came through the windows. The first thing I noticed was that Logan was gone. As sleep lost its hold on me, I heard the shower running and figured he'd awakened early to beat me to the hot water. I rolled over to his side of the bed, breathing in his scent and smiling. I don't have the hypersensitive nose that he has, which is probably a blessing. Still, I knew his scent intimately and it always made me smile. Of course, I couldn't smell him a mile away; I had to be right next to him or near something that was unmistakably his to catch it. But my truly guilty pleasure was rolling to his side of the bed after he'd awakened so I could surround myself with it.

I dozed back off again, but I came awake a bit when I felt Logan stretch himself out next to me on the bed. I rolled over and slid my arm around his chest, snuggling back into the warmth of his body. I felt him kiss the top of my head and he softly stroked my shoulder with his thumb. I knew he was trying to give me a few more minutes of sleep. After all those years running two different bars back in Detroit, it was still difficult for me to accept morning as any time of day before noon.

I heard his breathing begin to slow, the tension to drain from his limbs and I knew he was dozing back off. It would never do for us to be late to leave on our first solo mission for the Professor, so I moved up a little to kiss his cheek. "Morning lover." I said, still sleepy.

"Good mornin'." He replied, giving me a kiss. "Time to get up."

I smiled at him mischievously. "That's my plan." I purred as I slid my hand down his chest.

About an hour later, we both emerged from the shower. He was swearing up and down that I was trying to kill him, even though we both knew there was no way that would happen. Of course, if it did come to pass, at least he'd die with a smile on his face.

We collected our duffle bags and headed to the garage. True to his word, Charles had gotten us a fairly nice Jeep, black with the traditional soft-top and plastic windows. It was loaded with camping gear, most of which we'd done without before, but I was grateful for it anyway. We argued briefly over who got to drive first (he won), then settled into our seats. I checked the glove compartment and found a cell phone, a charger for it and an envelope with Logan's name written on it. I handed it to him and when he opened it, a card fell in his lap. He removed the note that was still inside.

Logan,

Although I am certain you could find a way across the border without using the normal crossing, I felt it would be best if you had some sort of identification just in case. I will try to monitor your progress as much as I am able, but do not hesitate to call if you have need of anything. Good luck and Godspeed.

Charles

He handed me the note and picked up the card. Glancing over, I saw that it was a New York driver's license. I don't know how the Professor had managed to get a head shot of Logan, but it was a pretty good picture. I looked at him with a smile, but saw that he had his eyes closed, a frown obscuring his features. My smile died. "Logan, what's wrong? Is everything all right?"

He opened his eyes and looked at me. "Yeah, I'm fine." He said, handing me the license. "Check it out, I have a whole name, a birthday and everythin'."

I looked at it closely, then giggled. "So, you were born May first? Explains quite a few things."

"What do you mean?"

I giggled again. "On the pagan calendar, May first is Beltane. It's…ummm…it's a fertility holiday."

He scowled at me and it just made me giggle more. I really needed about another two hours of sleep, but I figured I could doze in the car. He snatched the license out of my hand and shoved it in his coat pocket, grumbling something about me being a "silly woman", which only made me giggle more. Still scowling, he pulled a cigar out of another pocket and lit it, puffing on it furiously. I shook my head and settled into my seat as he pulled out of the garage. We were on our way.

Most people don't realize how massive New York State really is unless you actually live there. We made pretty good time, avoiding the major roads in favor of less-traveled highways where we could ignore the speed limits with a little more safety. We also didn't make any long stops, pausing only for bathroom breaks and quick meals. It was almost sunset when we finally crossed the border into Canada, with no incident. Logan asked the border guard where we could find good backpacking and camping areas and he was more than happy to give us directions. He thanked him (in French, which he didn't realize until I pointed it out to him later) and we drove off, now in full mission mode.

We decided to spend that first night in a motel, our last opportunity for a real bed for gods only knew how long. It had been a long drive and I was itching for a shower. Much to my dismay, the shower wasn't really big enough for two so Logan let me go first while he checked in with the Professor. I spent a goodly amount of time in there, knowing this would be my last good shower for a good long time, so I luxuriated in it. I emerged about half an hour later, wrapped in a towel, to find Logan stretched out on the bed flipping channels.

"So, what'd the Professor have to say?" I asked as I toweled off my hair.

"Our guy is still about seventy miles to the northwest of us." He replied, shutting off the television. "There's some pretty rough terrain up there that he'll probably have to go around. So, we're headin' that way first thing tomorrow."

I sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "Great. I'm guessing by 'first thing' you actually mean 'before the sun comes up', right?" He nodded. "This sucks. Can I turn in my decoder ring?"

"You didn't get a decoder ring."

I smacked him on the shoulder. "You know what I mean."

He chuckled and pulled me down next to him. "Yeah, I know. But I'm sure if you really wanted to, you could."

"No, I don't." I complained. "But I didn't know I was signing up for getting up at inhuman hours every day."

"We used to get up just as early back in the Bad Old Days, remember?"

"And that's part of the reason they're called the Bad Old Days."

He chuckled again and started kissing my neck. I let my head roll back and closed my eyes, just enjoying the feeling of his lips upon my skin. He reached up and slid the towel from my body, kissing down my shoulder, but I opened my eyes and scooted away. His head snapped up, a look of confusion on his face. I just smiled. "Now, that's not fair, Logan. I only had a towel on. You haven't even taken off your boots."

"It's more fun this way." He replied, moving back in to kiss me. He pulled me into his arms and I melted against him, totally unable to resist. He's got that effect on me. He buried a hand in my still damp hair, gently pulling my head back to expose my throat again. I moaned in pleasure as he worked his way down, finally sliding my claws out and very carefully using them to literally tear the shirt off his back. He gasped and sat up, scowling at me. "Hey now! I didn't bring that many shirts with me!"

"Let that be a lesson to you then." I replied, stretching out on the bed. "The jeans are next, unless you'd like to take care of them yourself."

"Evil woman." He said, but complied with my wishes. He finally stood there, gloriously naked and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. I don't care if I live five hundred years, I will never get tired of seeing him that way. I held my arms open and he slid into them, pulling me close and kissing me. We definitely made the most of the last real bed we would be seeing for a while.

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AN: I'm really tired today, so i'm going give a blanket Super Excellent Swanky thank you to beta readers, regular readers, DBK, my fiance and everyone who's reviewed...now, i wanted to let you all know that i'll be going on vacation from August 7th til the 21st...by my calculations (at my current update rate), i'll be almost but not quite done posting this story before i leave...now, if you'd like me to finish before i leave, please leave a review and let me know if you'd rather see 2 chapters in each update from now on...:) Go on, you know you want to!