A/N: Some fluff in this chapter. But then again, it is a romance, after all. :-)

Lyrics to "Happy Trails" by Dale Evans Rogers.


Disclaimer: I do not own Sabertooth or any of the X-Men characters in any universe that I'm aware of.

I'm not making one red cent from this story. I'm just havin' some fun.


Once they motivated themselves to get up, the two of them took a bath together. This wasn't quite as pleasurable as it might have been, since most of the hot water had already been used up earlier. After they dried off and got dressed, Tessa finished putting the deer meat away while Victor, in an uncharacteristic show of chivalry, volunteered to cook dinner.

"You can cook?" Tessa asked, her expression more delighted than disbelieving.

Victor drew himself up. "What? You thought I was one of those guys who lived on microwaved takeout?"

"Alright then," Tessa indicated the kitchen with a sweep of her arm, "Impress me."

Victor cooked venison steaks (and by "cooked," he seared the outsides for a few seconds on a hot skillet, leaving the centers red and bloody), prepared two baked potatoes, and just to show he wasn't just some meat 'n' potato caveman, sauteed asparagus spears in butter. Victor in turn was thrilled to see Tessa devour her meal with enthusiasm. Despite her willowy frame, she could really pack away the food. When she finished she leaned her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands, gazing at the man across from her with a teasing smile. "So … what's for dessert?"

Victor grinned. They turned in early that night.

Victor woke the next morning with a firm mattress beneath him and Tessa's body pressed up against his back, one slender arm and leg slung over him. He couldn't remember ever waking up in bed with a woman who didn't charge by the hour; and none of them, no matter how well they concealed their emotions, ever held him as they slept, preferring instead to put as much mattress between them and him as possible once their work was done. Victor never thought anything of it, but the way Tessa clung to him, it felt good. Plus, the bed was actually long enough to accommodate his height. One of the most annoying aspects of his work was having to spend so many nights in shitty motels with his feet jutting over the ends of the beds.

"Mmmm." Tessa's body flexed against him as she woke. He half expected her to draw away, but if anything she tried to bring herself even closer. Her breasts pressed against his shoulder blades, her pelvis curved against his ass, and the leg she slung over him twined with his own. Oh yes, this was definitely better than paying for it.

"Mmmorning," she murmured groggily. She ran her fingers through the forest of hair on Victor's chest. "I love your hairy chest."

Victor couldn't help but chuckle. "Bet you say that to all the guys."

She pressed her lips to his shoulder. "Well, I like hairy men, but yours is much thicker than most I've been with. You're like a giant teddy bear."

He blinked in surprise. "That ain't what usually springs to people's minds when they look at me."

"A teddy bear." Her arm tightened around him. "I'm gonna call you Huggy from now on."

A long silence. "The hell you will."

"Or Fuzzy, or Kitty … Oh!" Tessa laughed as Victor suddenly turned and pinned her to the bed, only to look up at his face and feel the humor vanish.

Victor glowered down at her, dangerously still. "You think I like bein' laughed at?"

Tessa licked her lips. "I was only playing, Victor." Her fear-scent began to rise. He couldn't kill her, or even damage her, but she could still experience pain like anyone else. The tension grew between them. Then Victor released his hold on her and sat up, forearms resting on his knees, not looking at her. After a moment Tessa sat up as well. She placed a tentative hand on his arm, rested her head against his shoulder. "I won't tease you again if you don't like it," she said quietly.

Victor swallowed. Despite his long life, he didn't have any experience with relationships. He'd never spent time with a woman for more than a few hours, and they were not pleasant experiences for the women by any stretch of the imagination. Victor just knew he was going to fuck this up somehow.

"Sorry." The word came out in a mumble. He never apologized, not even to his brother.

"It's okay."

"It's just …" He fidgeted, tried to find the words.

"It's alright. I understand." Tessa stroked his furred cheek. "You can't be seen as weak. That's you you survive."

Victor looked at her, startled by her understanding and grateful that he didn't have to put his feelings into words. He took her face into his hands and kissed her. "How'd you get to be so damn smart?"

"Just lucky, I guess," she smiled.

They lay back down, Tessa on her back, Victor propped up on his elbow and staring down at her. She certainly wasn't built like the plush women he usually found attractive; just shy of six feet tall with absolutely no excess body fat. Victor thought about the hearty appetite she showed at the dinner table and wondered where the hell it all went. Her skin was unblemished white, save for the freckles scattered across her chest. They tapered at the valley between her small breasts and continued in an uninterrupted line down her torso, past her belly button, and disappeared into the dark triangle between her legs. Victor traced its path with the tip of a claw, eliciting a shiver from her.

"Francis, my husband before Dan, used to call that my happy trail," she explained with a laugh.

Victor grinned. "Happy trails to you, until we meet again."

Tessa burst into giggles. "Happy trails to you," she sang in a voice full of laughter, "keep smilin' till then."

Victor started to kiss his way down the line of freckles, pausing to dip his tongue playfully into her navel, making her squirm. Tessa continued to sing, "Who cares about the clouds when we're together? Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather."

Her legs parted at Victor's gentle nudge. Her breathing became heavier, her voice more reedy. "Happy trails to you … till we meet … ahhh …" Tessa arched her back as Victor's mouth closed over her sensitive nub. The last word came out as a sigh. " … -gain."


Once they jogged their memories about how to tan leather, the deer skin was used to make Victor a pair of moccasin boots which were then lined with fur taken from a couple of rabbits he caught. Now that the weather had settled, Victor went out almost every day, exploring the vast forest Tessa claimed as her own. He was amazed by the profusion of game available, even in the dead of winter. He couldn't remember the last time he saw a place so untouched my human interference. Often while he hunted he sensed a pack of wolves trailing him. Victor didn't mind, so long as they kept their distance. At least with them around he knew any meat he didn't carry home wouldn't go to waste. Tossing human victims aside like roadside litter was one thing, but Victor didn't like the idea of prey being left to rot. It felt wrong.

He recalled a time when he and Jimmy were both in their early twenties and chose to live out in the wilderness, far from humanity. They lived as wild predators, hunting, eating the raw meat of their kills, wearing their skins. Jimmy actually hunted with the local wolves, who of course treated him as their alpha. Victor preferred to go it alone, or with just his brother; he was never much of a team player. Those years they spent out in the woods brought Victor the most contentment. The constant anger that churned within him gradually slipped away. He understood years later that the rage was brought about by his sense of alienation, and away from humans he was free to be himself without the constant stares and judgments. He would have spent his entire life out there, but then the settlers began their inevitable encroachment and the brothers found themselves once again having to conceal their true natures.

Being a soldier, and later a killer for hire, was the closest Victor got to indulging his predatory instincts. And he also got to take out his hatred of the humans who'd denied him his nature, an endless cycle of blood and murder that ate away at whatever good remained in him. He called himself an animal, but what he really was was a lost soul wandering in a hell of his own making. That realization was brought home to him when his brother chose to leave and spare himself from the same fate. Now Victor found himself in another forest, experiencing the freedom he'd missed for so many decades. The rage slowly receded as the true animal was allowed to flourish. There was still violence, but the pure violence of survival, untainted by hatred or sadism.

And each afternoon when the weak winter sun hung low on the horizon, Victor returned to the cabin where Tessa waited. Even though her mutant ability allowed her to always know where he was, she would still smile with such happiness every time he stepped through the door. The sight of it brought an ache that Victor couldn't name, that both frightened him and made him hope it would never fade.

The months slipped by with little notice, neither mutant looking to the future, though for different reasons. Victor was content to live entirely in the moment, as any beast would, while Tessa tried not to think of the coming spring and the probable end to her new happiness. Sometimes, though, Victor would glimpse a sadness in her eyes, gone so fast he wondered if it was even there.

"You're getting awful shaggy," she said one day, running her fingers through his thick mane.

Victor grinned. "Thought you liked hairy men."

"There's hairy and then there's ape-man," she retorted. She pulled out a chair from the dining table. "Sit," she said, pointing imperiously.

Victor smirked and sauntered over to the chair, lowering himself into it in a way that said he was only humoring her. Tessa found an old sheet to drape over him and a pair of scissors. As she started to trim his unruly hair, the snip-snip of the scissors and the feel of her fingers against his scalp brought a memory from long ago; one Victor didn't realize he still had until that moment. One evening after he and Jimmy finished their lessons Tessa announced it was time to cut their hair.

"Just because we all live out in the middle of nowhere doesn't mean we can't look presentable."

Josiah, too, was subjected to her ministrations. It was the sort of task everyone pretended to dislike, when in fact they enjoyed the attention. It was the most physical contact the young Victor ever allowed between himself and Tessa. He remembered keenly the close intimacy of their bodies, the deep sense of affection the older woman seemed to radiate as she gently wielded the scissors, and how her scent seemed to flood through his entire being. He felt these things again now, a century later.

Tessa maneuvered around to his front, situating herself between Victor's knees. Outwardly she seemed businesslike, but Victor could smell the faint sweetness that said tease. She was wearing drawstring pants and a T-shirt. Victor lifted the bottom of the shirt to expose her belly button and the trail of freckles running down it. He leaned in and dipped his tongue into her navel. Tessa flinched.

"Stop that!" she laughed. Victor responded by grabbing the drawstring with his teeth and pulling out the knot. Tessa yanked it away from him. He tilted his head up to give her an unconvincingly innocent look. Tessa tapped the end of his nose with the flat of the scissors. "Behave," she chided, "or you'll wind up with a wonky haircut."

Victor chuckled and put his arms around her waist, but did nothing further to hinder her. Tessa snipped away the last errant strands, then set her scissors down on the table and removed the sheet from his shoulders. "All finished."

"Don't I get a mirror?"

Tessa quirked an eyebrow. "What for?"

"Well, how do I know I'm gettin' my money's worth?"

She stroked his furry muttonchops. "Trust me, you're as handsome as ever." And there it was, that sad look in her eyes, gone in an instant. Victor's throat tightened. He stood and abruptly swept her up in his arms, carrying her like a groom with his bride. Tessa yelped in surprise. "Wait! I have to clean up—"

"It can wait." He headed for the bedroom. Tessa threw her arms around his neck. Her laughter trailed behind them.


The breeze carried a taste of warmth. The long icicles which dangled from branch and eave dripped away. Victor raked his claws against a pine's trunk, marking his territory as a mountain lion would. The wolves observed his actions from a safe distance, anxious for the kill he was certain to make.

Victor was able to travel greater distances now that the drifts began to shrink. Soon he might even reach the boundaries of the forest.

His deerskin boots sank into the hard-packed snow. His breath clouded the air. He was not consciously aware of the direction his feet carried him, but as the days lengthened and the snows gradually receded, Victor got nearer to the place where he was burned and left for dead.

In the cabin, Tessa sat cross-legged on the sofa, her eyes closed, looking for all the world like a Buddhist deep in meditation. In truth she was within the forest's song, listening to Victor's progress. The farther he wandered from home, the more her anxiety grew. Before, she'd stopped him from leaving because she knew he was only running away instead of facing his feelings. Should he choose to leave for other reasons, not running from his emotions, but to his former life, Tessa knew she couldn't hold him back forever. That would only make the woods a prison and herself a jailer. It would be cruel and only serve to make him hate her. She didn't want that. So Tessa watched and hoped each day that Victor would choose to turn around and return of his own accord. As long as the harsh winter kept them isolated that wasn't much of a problem, but now that the weather began to turn favorable the temptation might increase. Tessa didn't really know how Victor felt. She told herself she didn't want to pressure him, but the truth was she was afraid. Whenever a husband died, Tessa would live for years on her own, completely self-sufficient. But when she was in love she clung to that man with an almost desperate need, knowing she would someday have to face another loss. With Victor it was different; mortality was not the danger. The only way she could lose him was if he decided he no longer wanted her. She'd never had to face that kind of loss. She wasn't sure she was strong enough to bear it.

The music got stronger as the trees started to wake from dormancy. Soon buds would appear on their branches. Seeds would germinate and burst open. Grass and plants would sprout, lichen would spread, all adding their notes to the music to create a richer symphony.

She listened to the part of the song that told of Victor, moving farther away. Was he aware that he kept heading for the place where she'd found him, burnt and frozen? Was it a conscious decision, or did some instinct guide him there? She dreaded to find out what would happen when he finally reached his destination. Would the rage all come flooding back with the memory of what was done to him? Would his desire for vengeance outweigh his happiness here?

Today was not the day to find out. Victor's progress slowed, gradually stopped. He stood awhile in silence, perhaps contemplating his journey, then he turned and headed for home. The tension that built in Tessa without her knowledge seeped away as relief washed over her. A little more time, at least.


"Remember when I told you and James that I wanted to show you something after the thaw?"

"Sure," Victor replied a tad warily. It was morning; he and Tessa were in the process of getting dressed. For Victor it was jeans and a long T-shirt. Tessa put on an off-white sweater and a long earth-brown skirt. Her feet, as always, were bare. Victor suspected he was starting to develop a foot fetish, because every time he saw her bare feet peeking out from under her skirts or pant cuffs he just wanted to jump her. To him they were far more alluring than low-cut tops or miniskirts could ever be.

Tessa held out her hand. "C'mon."

For a second Victor thought she'd read his mind and wanted to hop back into bed, but as they headed for the door his mind returned to her earlier question. Curiosity outweighed disappointment for the time being and he followed her outside without protest.

A lot of snow remained, but a great deal had also melted away, leaving muddy ground behind. The sun shone down from an eye-searingly blue sky. The air smelled of wet earth and decayed foliage. The first birds home early from migration tweeted from the surrounding trees. Tessa released Victor's hand and backed away from him. There was something subdued in her expression, like an expectation of something she was powerless to prevent. It was a look Victor saw more and more often. "Watch."

"'Kaaay," Victor said, puzzled.

Tessa walked; wherever her bare feet landed fresh greenery shot up from the moist ground and began to spread outward like ripples in a pond. Victor's eyes widened. It was like something out of a fairy tale; the Lady of Spring bringing life back to the world after a long winter. Grass and wildflowers bloomed, the nearby stand of oaks budded and burst into leaf. When Tessa reached the outskirts of the clearing a bed of moss spread itself out beneath the shelter of the trees, so thick her feet sank into it like a carpet. Tessa lowered herself onto the mossy ground, knees drawn up to her chest, offering an immodest view from under her skirt. The soles of her feet were caked with dirt. The sunlight shone through the overhanging branches and dappled her skin. "What do you think of my party trick?" she asked with a smile.

Victor knelt before her, his gaze on her filled with intensity. His hands reached out, lightly encircled her slender ankles. They trailed up along her legs, pushed back the skirt to expose her knees, which he then kissed, first one, then the other. Tessa rested her hands on the ground and leaned back against her arms, grinning at him in that way that said she liked where this was going. The spicy scent of her arousal wafted around her. Victor reached under the skirt and hooked his claws in the waistband of her panties. Tessa arched her hips to let her underwear slide off without hindrance. She then twisted her body until she was on her hands and knees, peering over her shoulder with eyebrows risen in clear invitation. Victor was startled by this, recalling the night when he'd burst into her bedroom and taken her. Tessa assured him she didn't consider it rape, but he was still uncomfortable about it. After a moment's hesitation Victor pushed her skirt up over her hips, exposing her to the cool air. The scent of her arousal grew stronger. He could see that she was already wet. Victor's inhibitions fled as quickly as they came. He hastily undid his jeans and pushed them down around his knees. He then grabbed Tessa's hips, steadying her while his cock slowly penetrated. Tessa groaned and pushed back, seating him deeper within her. His hips began pumping in a hard, fast rhythm.

It felt right this way, mating like animals in the wakening forest. Victor rumbled a deep purr, the vibration in his chest felt against Tessa's back. His fangs bit into the nape of her neck, not quite hard enough to break the skin. Tessa moaned from the delicious pain. One large hand moved beneath her sweater to fondle her breasts, while the other slid down to carefully rub her clit.

Tessa felt tears spring to her eyes the closer she got to her climax. The sense that her time with him was coming to an end suddenly overwhelmed her. She bit her lip to hold back a sob, not wanting to upset Victor.

The steady thrusts slowed, stopped. Victor could smell the bitter tang of sorrow and the salt of unshed tears. "What's wrong?" he murmured, breath ghosting against her ear.

"Nothing," she answered as calmly as she could. She moved her hips back. "Please, don't stop."

Victor hesitated, then resumed his thrusting, quickly picking up speed. It wasn't long before he heard Tessa cry out, felt her inner walls tighten around him before his own climax washed over him. Panting, they rolled onto their sides, bodies spooned together as they lay on their bed of moss. Victor nuzzled the back of her neck. "Why're you crying?"

Tessa sighed, wiped her eyes. "Because," I love you, "I'm so happy."

Victor knew it was a lie. His arms tightened around her. It was all he knew to comfort her.

Tessa's hands covered his, fingers interlaced. The words she whispered seemed to slip out of their own accord, defiant of her wish not to burden Victor; so faint she hoped, even with his keen ears, he might not have heard them: "Don't ever let me go."

He didn't react, so perhaps she succeeded.