Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone from X-Men or the Marvel Universe. Stan Lee does. I only own Annica Sawyer.
Lonesome Days
By Leah Pensotti
Chapter Two: The Second Meeting
Annica stood with the door wide open, trying not to glare at the man before her. He wore jeans, a flannel shirt, a leather jacket, a bag slung over his shoulder and a very unique hairstyle. He stubbed out his cigar and threw it over the railing before opening his mouth to speak.
"This is yours." He handed her the badge that she no longer needed. Annica sighed heavily, she needed answers.
"You want to come in?"
He shook his head, "No."
He spun on his heel and walked down the stairs to where his motorcycle sat. Annica jogged after him determinedly and came to a halt right before the front end of the bike.
"Please. I've been suspended. I'd just like to talk for a minute about last night. I can't arrest you if I wanted to. I don't even have a weapon in the house." The last part was a lie. She had two guns. One in the laundry room and the other in the bottom drawer of her night stand.
Annica realized that she sounded ridiculous and a little crazy. She didn't even know this man. He could be a hardened criminal or a thief, but he helped her last night and she needed to know why he did it if he was only going to run off afterwards.
He smirked at her as if he were highly amused, "I'm not afraid that you're gonna arrest me. I don't think you could, Detective."
"It's just Annica." She was a little offended by his doubt, but she refused to let it show through. She put her good hand on her hip and mulled her options.
"I was just about to fix some dinner. I've got steak...and beer. You interested? We can talk some..."
He cut her off brusquely, "I'm not looking to be analyzed or to get all touchy-feely. I'll come up and talk, but I got some questions I would like answered, too."
Annica waved him on and nodded. The terms sounded fair. As they entered her apartment, Annica shut the door behind him and motioned for him to drop his bag wherever he chose. She walked to the refrigerator and opened it to retrieve another beer. She slid the bottle across the dining room table to him and recovered her own from the living room.
"I just realized I don't even know your name." She took a swig from her bottle and watched as he took a seat at her table.
"Logan."
"Okay, Logan. How do you like your steak?"
"Medium rare."
Annica retreated to the kitchen again, and rustled around as she prepared the meal. She had left the radio on as she waited for the phone to ring and decided to leave it on as she cooked. She would begin the onslaught of questions when she was in the same room with the enigmatic Logan. Annica nursed her beer, hummed along to Bruce Springsteen's "Hungry Heart" and then she popped in a few potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil to bake.
She realized that she was foolish to invite a very strange man into her home and cook for him, but he had stopped someone from doing something completely horrible to her. He helped her get to the car and radio so she could get her partner medical attention. The future of Marcus's life and her career was up in the air. The night before, she had witnessed hell on earth. She had never been shot before, not even in her years as beat cop...
Logan looked around Detective Annica Sawyer's apartment. White walls, earthy tones, not much for decor except a photograph of an older man on the wall, in full police uniform. He drank his beer and heard Annica in the kitchen with the radio. Logan did not know if agreeing to dinner was such a great idea, but it was a free meal and beer.
Besides, he did have a few questions concerning the night before as well. He wanted to know why she was at that dive and what the men with the masks wanted.
It was then that she appeared by the table with a handful of silverware and asked if he wanted another beer. He nodded. She brought him another beer and sat down as the food continued to cook.
"How's your shoulder?" Annica asked him timidly.
Logan wanted to avoid anything having to do with the things he wanted to keep secret-- like his certain abilities...unless a situation arose that was completely unavoidable. He shrugged lackadaisically, "It was a graze. I got lucky."
Annica tilted her head, "I thought it was worse than that. Hell, I could almost see straight through my arm. I was really lucky that it didn't hit bone."
"What were you doing at the bar last night? It wasn't exactly your type of place, was it?" Logan questioned. Annica chuckled in a low tone.
"That evident, huh?"
"Let's just say I thought about asking you 'what a nice girl like you is doing in a place like this?' But, I realized you might have heard that before. I saw your gun while you were getting your drinks. Then I realized you couldn't be that nice."
Annica nodded, "Marcus, my partner, and I have been working on a double homicide case for the past three days. We got a lead and similarities concerning another double homicide from a year ago. Then, an informant called and wanted to meet at Maynard's. We didn't get much out of him, but he agreed to come and give a statement and have protective custody. That is when they came for him. They knew he was talking to us. After they shot Marcus and myself, they drug him away. He's probably dead by now. I don't even know his name."
Logan opened the new beer, "Who do you think did this?"
"Gangs. Drug runners or dealers. The Mafia. Someone who could afford professionals." Annica trailed off wistfully and looked to the kitchen, "Food's probably ready."
Logan watched as she got up from the chair and realized that she would have some trouble carrying two plates and offered with a near-mumble, "Need some help?"
Annica turned on her heel and looked surprised by the offer. She shrugged and smiled, "Sure."
He followed her into the kitchen and helped her prepare the plates with the steak and potatoes. They quietly picked up their plates and walked back into her small dining area. They ate their meal in silence until Annica spoke up.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
"Just passing through." Logan spoke plaintively.
"Why didn't you want to give a statement?" She questioned lightly.
"I don't want any trouble. I just want to be on my way."
"Then why didn't you just leave town last night? Why did you stick around?"
"I had your badge"
"You said that you just didn't want to see me die...you said you had enough guilt as it is..."
Logan shook his head and growled in a low warning, "That's personal."
Annica looked away and took another bite of her steak. Silence unknotted between them and she spoke up once again.
"I didn't mean to pry."
He smirked, "Prying is you job and something tells me that you are good at it. It's my turn for questions now."
Annica raised an interested eyebrow to him. She thought that she had told him everything.
"Why did they suspend you?"
She sighed thickly. Talk about a touchy subject. She shrugged, "It's common protocol. Anytime that a police officer shoots someone there is an investigation. This is pretty open and closed, though. Not only that, but I am of no use to them at the moment, unless I work at a desk and shuffle papers. I can't stand that. So, I opted for some time off. Actually, it was suggested to me by the head of my department. Got another question?"
He nodded to the picture hanging on her wall, "Who's that."
"My father. He was a detective, too. Twenty-five years on the job and he was shot and killed five years ago in a raid. He worked in narcotics." Annica looked at the photo and felt the lonesome ache of being orphaned at 23. Even at 28, she felt as sad as the day that happened. She had lost her mother when she was a child of 5, when a drunk driver had hit the car that her mother had been driving. Annica grew up with her father as her hero, her small planet rotating around his sun. Even as she grew older, the pain never seemed to subside, instead it just lingered over her like a gray ghost.
Logan nodded. He seemed satisfied with her answer. He pushed back his seat from the table and began to rise.
"Thanks for the dinner, Detective. But I better be on my way..."
"I told you. It's just Annica." She stood up and continued, "You could stay here tonight. The couch is pretty comfortable, then you can leave in the morning."
Logan looked at her in an odd way, "You usually invite strange men to spend the night?"
"You'd be on the couch, for one thing. And the answer is no. I think you are the first visitor ever to step foot in the door." Annica glowered a bit at his insinuation.
"You mean to tell me you partner has never..."
"No. We have only been partners for a year. That's it. He hasn't even come over for a beer. I see him at work." She didn't know why she was defending her work relationship with Marcus so vehemently. That was something that should go without saying.
Logan shrugged and wrinkled his brow, "What do you want from me?"
Annica didn't know. She wanted nothing, really. She had an ominous feeling in her gut that he should not leave.
"Nothing. You don't have a place to stay, it'd save you some money. I just want to help you out. You helped me out."
Logan stepped closer to her and looked her square in the eyes, "You don't owe me anything. I don't need your help."
"Look, my gut is telling me not to let you leave. My gut is never wrong. I don't know what it is, but you shouldn't leave yet." She felt herself on the verge of trembling.
"Then where was your gut last night when you and your partner got shot?" He shot back.
Annica looked distant and shrugged, "I don't know."
Logan saw the look in her eyes and felt it somehow familiar. That look of knowing something that others could not see or comprehend. He backed off and took off his jacket, still not understanding the need for him to stay. But something in his own gut told him that he should listen to her.
"Fine. I'll stay."
She looked like she was breaking from her distant state and nodded to him, "I'll get you a pillow."
As she disappeared into the bowels of her apartment, Logan took their plates into the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher. When he walked back out into the living room, he saw Annica setting down a bundle of bedding. He murmured a thanks and watched as she turned to go into the dining area to see that the dishes were already put away.
She looked surprised, "Thanks for clearing the table. The tv remote is on the end table, watch whatever you want."
He sat on the couch and watched as she turned on her heel and retreated to her own bedroom.
Annica was stirred from sleep in the small hours of the morning as she felt a pair of hands around her throat and a rag shoved into her mouth. A man in a black mask hovered over her, his mouth smiling at her maliciously.
"Someone really wants you dead, little girl. You've been snooping where you're not supposed to."
Annica struggled as his gloved hands gripped her throat tighter. She kicked at him and tried to push him away, but her good arm was pinned and she was trapped. He continued to squeeze as she lessened her defense. She was losing.
Suddenly, a figure appeared at the door and growled at the attacker, "Get off of her."
The man sat up, but still straddled Annica. He turned to look at Logan in the doorway and kept his hands securely pressed against her windpipe.
"This ain't your battle, buddy. Just let me do my job and if you still want to tangle, then so be it."
Annica heard a very peculiar sound, a metallic sound, as Logan charged the man and pulled him off of her. They tussled for awhile and Annica saw more clearly that Logan had what looked like six claws pointed at the man, waiting to impale him if he moved.
She hurried off of the bed and fumbled for her night stand. She pulled out the weapon she hid there and pointed it at the man with her good arm.
"Who sent you?" She croaked, her voice gone from the struggle.
The man smirked at her, "I don't think you'll be getting any answers from me. All I know, I was hired to kill you. I've been hiding in your closet all damn day while you sweet talked this guy. Whoever you pissed off knows who you are. You're as good as dead."
He pulled out his own gun and aimed it towards Annica. Logan was ready to make a lunge for him with his claws, but the man turned and shot him in the stomach. Annica screamed as Logan slumped to the floor and made ready to swipe at the man with his claws.
"Logan! No!" She pleaded for him to stay down and pulled the trigger of her own weapon, shooting the man in the temple.
As the attacker fell to the ground, Annica ran to Logan's side. She looked down at his hands and saw three silver blades protruding from his knuckles. The retracted quickly and she put her arm around him. He looked up to her and shook his head.
"I'll be fine."
She pulled up the bottom of his shirt at the waist and saw that the bullet wound was slowly closing, the flesh healing itself. Annica's mouth gaped open, "Are you sure?"
"I am sure tired that I have to keep saving your ass. I thought you didn't have a weapon?"
Annica dropped her gun to the floor and picked up his hand to inspect it, "You should talk, Logan. You should talk."
A/N: In the next chappie; Annica wants answers and calls for backup. Logan comes to her aid in a different way. Truths are told.
To Kakashilvr: Thanks for the review, I hope this chappie lives up to your high praise!
To joegood2003: Never you worry. I am still on the fence about the whole Annica/Logan hookup anyway. Sorry about your first try at review! I hope to hear from you again! Thanks for the kind words!
To Angel of Harlem: Good to hear from you old friend! I met Bono and the whole rest of the band this time around in December. I am so sorry that it has been so long since I wrote. I am still deciding one of two paths for "Waking the Witch" and what I shall do about Halla and Boromir. Thanks for the critique. I wrote so late into the morning that the tenses didn't even register, and right now I am on the tipsy side and I hope that it turned out okay! I am so glad to hear from you! I love ya!
To Digital Tempest: Thank you for the loverly review. I truly appreciate it. Please keep reviewing and letting me know how I am doing!
