Hannah remained on the bathroom floor for what felt like forever. After years of being protected from the real world, being shut up and kept prisoner by her parents and agents and piano teachers, she now was finally experiencing life and making decisions on her own. Her thoughts for the first time were actually her own, not being force fed to her by someone who thought they knew what was best for her. Her eyes remained focused on the opened door. She heard Logan shuffle on the bed and then click on the TV. What she was thinking was something the old Hannah Masterson would never even have dreamed of. A man. Tonight she kissed a man for the first time, tonight she saw a man naked for the first time. She felt light headed and giddy when she thought about him Her body was experiencing sensations it had never felt before. She stood up and turned the tap on, placing a hand under the warm water, she watched it spray across and over her hand filling the tub. She stood up and looked into the small rectangular mirror above the basin, feeling she must look different, since she felt so different. Running her hand through her long black hair, the only thing that was different was a look of contentment on her face. A feeling that only the piano had provided before. She smiled as she put her hair into a pony tail and then twisted it up into a bun.
Logan went to the window, he lit another cigar and looked out into the street. Even at 2am, there was heavy traffic, both on the street and on the sidewalk. His instinct told him to be on the watch for Portman. The guy seemed to have connections and if he wanted to find someone, he more than likely would. He turned back towards the bathroom. What the hell did Hannah know that was so damn important to him? He closed the blinds and headed to the bed, picking up the remote he began channel surfing. He couldn't help but feel restless. And it wasn't just Portman that had him all riled up.
He heard the tap turn on. From the bed he could just see into the bathroom, Hannah putting her hair up. Then slipping off her jeans. That girl was doing something to him. This wasn't supposed to happen.
As she began to pull her top over her head, she saw Logan's reflection in the mirror staring at her. Surprised she quickly slammed the door shut and then leaned up against it, her heart racing.
Logan shouted out, "Nothing I haven't seen before, darlin." And that was the truth. There had been plenty of women, but lately his flirtation with Jean had been enough. He could count on one hand the women that meant anything to him and he really hadn't bargained to add another to that list. Restless he got out of bed and headed back towards the window, but instead of looking for danger down on the street, his ears only made out the sounds of the other potential danger that now lurked in his bathroom.
Hannah's bath couldn't have been less relaxing. Sitting in the bath she clutched her knees up to her chest, and closed her eyes. The images were invading her thoughts. The words that jumbled up meaning nothing. MUTANT. RELOCATION. CAMPS. Mixed with snippets from Logan's file WEAPON X. JAMES HOWLETT. THE HAND. They meant even less, and then the pictures. The ones in the magazine she had found in Logan's room. Naked women. She looked down at her own gangly pale body and realized that she would never be able to offer this man anything. She took deep breaths and started to concentrate,placing these images once again to the back of her mind. She had to do the proper English thing. Roll with the punches, plod on like always. As she took the warm washcloth to her face, she had a epiphany, or at least that's what it seemed like to her. She asked herself Why? Why did she have to sit back and let everyone else control her life? She had already changed so much since her arrival in the United States. She had tasted freedom and wasn't about to let it go, so why did she have to resort back to her old English habits? It was about time Hannah took some control of her own life, no matter what the consequences.
Back in the bed channel surfing, Logan watched out of the corner of his eye as the bathroom door opened. Hannah dressed only in a baggie tshirt and panties, looked up at him and smiled then averted her glance as she tried to concentrate on letting her hair down, but do to her nervousness she managed to get it knotted up and the frustration built as she cussed under breath only making it worse.
Logan noticed the frustration, "Come here, I can help."
She sat on the edge of the bed as he leaned over her head sussing out the situation. The SNIKT of the blades startled her at first as she looked down at the shiny metal now protuding from his left hand, "Just don't move. I'll cut the damn thing out. Promise I won't touch one pretty little hair on your head...but that's only if you're still."
The blade cut through the hair tie, and he was true to his word, not one hair was harmed. She smiled nervously at him, as she watched the blade retract back into his hand. "You're quite handy to have around, I would say." When his eyes met hers she immediately, refocused on her hands and the brush she was holding. She wanted to just be herself but did she really know who that was? She said silly things, and blushed. Like a schoolgirl. A child. It was exactly how she appeared to him. A child. This only caused her more anguish.
Logan looked down at her hands and watched as she began to hit the back of the brush against the palm of her other hand. The tension was evident and he hated seeing her in this state. Gently he released her grip from the brush, taking it in his own hand, and she followed his movement as he held it up to her head, "May I?"
Hannah nodded. He gently brushed the knots out of her tangled hair and with every stroke her hair began to glisten and fall down over her shoulders. Hannah closed her eyes. It wasn't the first time her hair had been combed by someone other than herself. There had been her personal maid and assistant, and on a few occasions her mother, who would help her get ready for a concert. But never had it felt this way.
As her long black hair fell across her back, Logan had an image, one that he had suppressed for a very long time. Mariko. He use to brush Mariko's hair. Always before they made love. Just as that thought occurred to him the guttural moans and gasps of one of his neighbors penetrated through the walls and he dropped the brush. Hannah's eyes opened wide as both sounds simultaneously invaded her relaxed state.
She looked down at the brush, then at Logan who was now laying back onto the pillow his eyes shut. She looked towards the sound of the voices, "Does that go on all night?"
"You get used to it." Logan at that very moment, wondered if tonight he would be able to block it out like normal. This was just bad timing all around. The sounds of the prostitutes, the hair, Mariko...Hannah. God, what was he thinking. This was all wrong.
Innocently Hannah smiled, "So that's what it sounds like, to make love."
Logan abruptly opened his eyes, "No."
She looked confused, "But..."
"Don't get that mixed up with the real thing. That is just sex. No love involved."
He seemed to know what he was talking about and his facial expression had changed within the last few minutes. It didn't seem as harsh. She knew he hated questions about his past, he had avoided it all night but Hannah couldn't help but ask, "You've been in love, with the women in the photograph in your room? ."
"You know, it's late. I got to get you back to the school bright and early. So how about turning in?"
"She's beautiful."
"Was." He corrected. "Was beautiful. Now get into bed"
Hannah got off the bed and went to the other side. Logan had rolled over on his side and his back was facing her. Knowing he was lying naked under the covers made her heart race as she slowly lifted the covers just a little and slipped under them. She made sure she stayed as close to the edge as possible. Keeping her distance, but in doing so pulled a good majority of the covers with her.
"I'm not going to bite you, Hannah. If you sleep over there, you'll fall off in the middle in the night plus you'll take all my covers with you. And you don't want to see my reaction if that continually occurs throughout the night."
"Sorry, I just thought I should give you your space."
"If I wanted my space I would have slept on the floor. But that would have only killed my back and I would be incredibly cantankerous in the morning. I figured sharing my bed with you, would only probably make me a tad unpleasant. The lesser of the two evils."
She shuffled closer to him, laying on her back listening to the groans coming from next door. Hannah couldn't stop thinking of the woman and Logan. And before she could stop herself she blurted out, "What happened to her?"
"Who?"
"The woman in the photo."
He turned towards her, "This isn't a good time,Hannah. I don't want to talk about it."
"But you don't want to talk about anything."
"That's my business."
"Do you shut Jean out too?"
"Jean? What does this have to do with Jean?"
"You are in love with her."
"Don't make me laugh. I am not in love with Jean. Where are you getting this from?"
"It's obvious. I've seen the way you look at her. The way she looks at you."
"And what do you know about love, Miss Masterson? The last time I checked your experience with relationships was pretty much non existent."
He was right there. "That isn't my fault. And you know it. That's an evil and cruel thing to say to me."
"I'm sorry. Can we just nix the 20 questions for now and get some shut eye?"He leaned over her, reaching for the light switch. His chest brushed against her own and Hannah felt a jolt trigger inside her. Logan too felt a bit uncomfortable. He had to push those thoughts out of his mind. This was Chuck's goddaughter. He was always good at suppressing his desires, but as he moved his body slowly back to his own side of the bed, he wasn't prepared for Hannah's action. She reached her hands up and ran her fingers through his tousled hair, drawing him close to her, her lips brushing over his own gently and sweetly. Logan was taken by surprise, slowly pulling back, he was now looming over her with an intense stare, trying to remain in control of a situation he wasn't so sure he was ready for.
She smiled up at him, "I wanted to say something. You brushing my hair earlier." Her fingers still messaging his scalp, "it was lovely."
"Hannah..."
"Please, Logan. Don't...I know what you are going to say."
"I don't think you do." Taking control of the situation he gained composure and removed her hands from his hair, holding them tightly in his own. "You are playing a dangerous game here. I don't think you know what you're doing."
"I think I know exactly what I'm doing. For the first time ever. So please don't contradict me and treat me like they did. All of them. I am not a child, Logan. I have feelings and I want to be allowed to feel them. You have no idea what it's like to not feel in control. Everyone making decisions for you. I want to be in control for a change, I want to make things happen. And everyday I feel freer and it's liberating. Tomorrow I will be back at the School and the professor will have plans for me. I will never have the freedom you do. Please let me have this one day, this one night. Tomorrow you can wash your hands of me and walk away. I will understand, Logan. But tonight...I just want to feel like other women. To know what it's like to love a man for just a little while."
Logan couldn't argue with her. He did know what it was like to not be in control. People making decisions for him, making him think thoughts that weren't his own. The freedom and solace he had now was something he would never give up without a helluva fight. He looked up at her pleading eyes. Charles would have a fit that was for sure, but he had to admit he cared for this woman. She had touched him in away that he hadn't felt in a very long time. He had been fighting it, those feelings because it was his job. He was supposed to be looking after her, not falling in love with her. This could only make things more difficult in the long run.
She could see the thought behind his gaze, "I know you don't love me,Logan. I don't expect you to feel that. But I think you care. And I don't think you could ever hurt me." She felt tears well up in her eyes.
He loosened his grip on her wrists and wiped the tears with his finger, "We wont have any of that. No reason to cry, not while you're here with me." She reached up and stroked his cheek. Logan closed his eyes, wondering what the hell had happened to his rationality. At this point in the game, he realized he couldn't fight it anymore. Her hands, the ones that he had watched passionately caress the piano keys now had found another purpose. He felt her fingertips gently stroke his face. Backing away from love hadn't been that hard to do knowing that he had a knack of putting the ones he cared for in danger on more than one occasion. But this wasn't love, he told himself. They both were adults and could deal with this. Surely.
He reopened his eyes to find the longing and desire in hers baring through him, deep into his soul. Letting out a sigh, he succumbed to the temptation, gently lifting her arms and removing her tshirt. Taking her into his arms he gently kissed her lips. And surprised himself with the sensation he felt from something so sweet and tender. His usual roughness was gone, and he knew at that moment, that this was more than just satisfying this woman's need. It was too late to back out now.