OK off on a different tangent for me…as usual, don't own them even though I love to play with them, so please pardon my humble attempts at trying to bring them more to life.
This will be another long – ongoing project, so for those who are enduring my other long and drawn out projects, updates will come as they can. Another dream induced idea – Gods Bless Morpheus.
This is TOTALLY AU, as far as I know these characters do not exist in Marvel universe, other than Logan and the rest of the Marvel crew. I am throwing canon to the wind (comic) anyway, and writing my own version of the past. Reviews are always welcome, but be aware this is completely OFF CANON, so flames about canon WILL be IGNORED.
A/N
PyroWhore - I thank you.
CaptMacKinsey - The Jane Eyre wasn't intentional - and as for Logan being like Mr. Rochester...I always imagined him that way - at least when he lived through the whole Victorian Era - however it wasn't intentional, I didn't even notice until you mentioned it. Of course now that you have I can see it.
Chapter 3
The night was uneventful and the next morning he woke Mel, and after she dressed, they went and paid for the coach. He dozed most of the way, while she stared out the window. Neither one had said much. The coach made good time, with no stops and they arrived in London before nightfall. From the coach to another cab, this time to the Two Lions.
"Mel, I will have to go to the bank tomorrow. I will also go by the Army office and see if I can find out where your uncle's regiment is stationed."
"Do we have to go, couldn't we just write him a letter."
"I want to get out of England – I don't trust Abbott and we will be safer if we are on the move, at least for now." She just nodded.
"We need to get some rest; I didn't sleep much on the coach." He grinned.
"Dinner might be nice." She said. He laughed and they went down to the common room. The Two Lions catered to merchants and ship's masters, so both the clientele and service were not as crude as some inns. The food was better, if pricier than more common inns. They ate in silence, as Logan scanned the room. His instincts were telling him they were safe, but he was second guessing even himself. He had to keep her safe.
Maybe she was right; maybe traveling wasn't a good idea. Maybe they should look into settling down. No, settling down was for old men – and he wasn't an old man yet. He'd never been to India, had heard a great deal of good things about the land and the people, it would be fun – she would see.
They went back to the room, and she shyly prepared for bed. He moaned, he had promised himself he wasn't going to touch her again, not until she was healed – and he had time to do it right. He waited until she was dressed in her nightgown before unbuttoning his shirt and taking his place at the basin to clean up.
"Mel, go to sleep." He said softly.
"Logan?"
"Just get some sleep." He unpacked his razor and mirror from his saddle bags. He hadn't shaved in days, and it showed. He needed to straighten up his chops – he wanted to look presentable at the bank tomorrow. He needed to sit down and try to estimate how much money they were going to need – they needed clothes, toiletries, passage money and money to live on while looking for her uncle. He had about a hundred pounds on him, enough for lodging while in London but he would need more than that for the trip they were taking.
He wiped the soap off his face, his chops clean and neatly trimmed. His hair was in its usual style, the two upswept peaks impossible to tame. He glanced over to the bed; she was curled on the far side, away from him – facing the wall. He couldn't tell if she was asleep or not. He grimaced at the thought of sleeping in these pants – again – but decided, for decencies sake, one more night wouldn't kill him. Tomorrow they would buy new clothes, both of them.
He pulled back the blankets on his side of the bed and slipped under. She scooted further away from him, and he almost climbed back out of bed to sleep on the floor or in a chair, but he was just too damned tired. He closed his eyes and allowed himself the luxury of sleep.
His mind was groggy – he felt something warm and very female under his arm, and felt a small smile creep across his face. He inhaled the scent of the woman in bed with him and the smile widened. She was his, he'd already claimed her. That was good – he could feel himself straining against his trousers. He shook his head, waking fully – and realization hit him. Her bare skin was under his hand. He was stroking his fingers along her belly. He froze. She was still asleep – and he tried to pull away without waking her.
"Logan?"
SHIT!
"Go back to sleep, Mel – go back to sleep." He quickly turned and faced the other direction, and kicked himself for being a letch and whoremonger. She rolled against him, one arm draping over his waist. This girl was going to be the death of him.
He lay there as she drifted back to sleep – her body pressed against his, and if she didn't stop wiggling and squirming like that he wasn't going to be accountable for his actions. He wanted nothing more than to roll over and wake her up properly – but she would hate him for it. She pressed her face against the middle of his back, mumbling in her sleep, her lips brushing against a spot right between his shoulder blades. He grabbed the blankets and pulled them back. He had to get out of this bed.
"Logan," she mumbled against his back "where are you going?"
He sat up and looked at her sleep hazed face. He leaned down, to kiss her forehead but that other part of him had other ideas. He captured her mouth, groaning as she responded to his kiss. He stretched out next to her, never breaking the kiss. Hell – he was going to regret this in the morning – but he would wait for morning for regrets. He could feel that dark part of him, screaming to possess her, but he wasn't going to give in. She was his wife, and deserved respect and decency – and caring.
He traced her cheek with one hand, as he lifted his lips from hers.
"Logan?" She whispered, fully awake – a trace of fear in her passion filled eyes – just a trace.
"I told ya I'd make it up to ya." He whispered – as he leaned down to kiss her again. He could smell her body responding to him, it almost pushed him over that edge, but he forced that black bastard down, he wasn't going to hurt her again.
He quickly removed her nightgown, her protests ignored. He brushed away her hands as they tried to cover her naked body from his eyes. He smelled the tears before the fell, and was there to kiss them away.
"I won't hurt you – ever again." He whispered. She just turned her face away, fear rising in her scent. He just grinned – he wasn't inexperienced with women by any means, and knew it was going to take all that experience to convince her. He traced her cheekbone with his lips, down her ear, then the column of her throat. One hand traced her naked waist, stroking the tender flesh, her giggle was a surprise.
'That tickles?" He asked against her collarbone, his lips trailing to her shoulder.
"Yes." He could still hear her tears in her voice.
"I'll remember that." He whispered.
"DON'T YOU DARE!" She turned to face him – indignation that he had discovered her secret across her face.
"Why does that bother you?" He asked as he stroked that tender spot again. She couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her lips, and he kissed her.
"It gives you and advantage." She said when she could speak again.
"Really…" He took her hand and put it against his own stomach; he felt her tentative strokes as he leaned down and kissed her again. Her body's instincts were starting to take over and he felt her palm flatten against him, and then her fingers found that spot – and he laughed against her lips.
"I'd say we are even – now." He said.
"Why would you do that? Show me your weak spot."
"Darlin' laughter isn't a weakness, and a good tickle fight can be downright fun." He grinned as he stroked his hands down her thigh. He had distracted her enough that he was able to caress her without her resistance.
"Really?" He was surprised by a sudden look of mischief in her eyes, and then she tickled him again – and wouldn't let up. He rolled over and pulled her on top of him.
"You learn quick." He said through the laughter.
"I never said I was stupid, Logan."
"No – just a girl." He said back.
"OHHH!!!!" She tickled him again. Her laughter joined his, and he kissed her – the moment was something he never wanted to end – and then she moved, and he moaned.
"Did I hurt you?"
"No, Darlin'" He took her hand and placed it on the bulge in his pants. "It didn't hurt."
She tried to pull her hand away as if burned, but he held it against him – until her curiosity overcame her fear and she started tracing it through his pants. He moaned at her inexperienced touches, and every part of him wanted to roll her over and bury himself inside her. He finally had to cover her hand with his again.
"What?"
"Darlin' do you have any idea what that is doin' ta me?" He asked his voice harsh with need.
"I'm not hurting you, am I?" She asked, trying to pull her hand away, he groaned.
"No, Mel – you are definitely NOT hurting me." He tried to grin. "It feels TOO good."
"Too good?"
"Let me show you." He watched the fear creep back into her eyes.
He rolled her over, onto her back, and slipped his body between her legs. He just kissed her, until her body started to relax under him. Taking this slow was going to kill him. He kept having to force the darkness in him to the back of his mind, whatever he was – whatever he had, it was like another person sometimes, it took over in the blackest moments and he would never allow it to touch Mel – she would never know what kind of animal – what kind of monster he could be.
He could feel and smell her body's response to his touch – her small whimpers weren't of pain this time, he slipped away from her body, and hid his grin at her moan of protest.
"I need ta get rid of these, Darlin'" he said as he slipped his pants off and onto the floor. He reclaimed his place, and took one of her hands, slipping it between them to explore him without any barrier between their flesh. He moaned as her small fingers slipped around him. He wasn't going to be able to hold back much longer, her touch was driving him insane.
He allowed himself exploration of his own, and found her body ready and wiling, he gently claimed her mouth and took her hand with his, pulling it away as he claimed his rightful place. She moaned – but he didn't think in pain, he still forced himself to be still, to allow her body to adjust – to sniff the air for fresh blood. All he could smell was their combined need, and that was all he needed to spur him on.
After they lay, breathing heavy – his head resting on her shoulder.
"God, Darlin' tell me I didn't hurt you." He whispered, still throbbing inside her.
"No – Logan – I don't know what that was – but it wasn't pain." He laughed. She had screamed his name – over and over. He rolled to his side, moaning as their bodies parted.
"That's how it should have been."
"Mmmm…" She curled against his shoulder, and he wrapped one arm around her. He felt her body relax, and was surprised by a light snore. He followed her into Morpheus's arms.
Sunlight streamed into the room, waking him. Her body was warm against his side. He looked down at her mahogany hair, tangled from his fingers and from sleep. He couldn't stop smiling. She was his girl – his wife – and suddenly he realized this was exactly what he had been looking for.
"Wake up, Mel. We have shopping to do." He said. She mumbled and burrowed deeper against his shoulder.
"I need ta get to the bank this morning." She lifted her head, and looked at him, her sleep filled eyes showing her confusion.
"Can't we sleep a little longer?" She moaned.
"NO! Today is an adventure." He stroked her cheek and kissed her. He could feel her body responding and seriously considered staying in bed a while longer, but the sounds of people moving around in the inn made him realize they weren't alone. "Get up lazybones." He said, patting her naked backside. He felt the heat rise in her face against his chest as she tried to hide her embarrassment at her undress.
He climbed out of bed and grabbed his saddle bags. He had one pair of pants that he had been saving for today, a clean shirt and his vest and jacket finished his preparations. He ran his fingers through his hair to try to tidy it, and looked over at her. She had slipped on her under things and was struggling with her corset.
"Leave off today, Mel. The damned thing is a nuisance." He said. She glared at him, and continued lacing it.
"A lady doesn't go out in public un-corseted." She said back, fire in her eyes. He picked her up and spun her around.
"Fine, then let me help you." He said as he set her back on her feet.
"What's gotten into you?" She asked.
"I don't know – I made love to my wife last night." He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. She blushed, but allowed him to help her get dressed.
London was a bustle, the Old Lady was crowded, but his accounts were in order so the withdrawal took little time. He slipped the notes into his wallet and into his jacket pocket. He had probably pulled more than they were going to need, but – he planned on spoiling her a bit.
He asked the teller if he knew a good respectable dressmaker, and with a reference in hand they went looking for her some new clothes. He stopped in at his haberdasher to order a few more suits and shirts. He explained in both establishments that they would be leaving for India and to plan their wardrobes accordingly.
He dragged her all over London, buying trunks – things they would need for the voyage. She seemed to be enjoying herself. They stopped for luncheon in a small restaurant and then went to the Army office. Her uncle was assigned to the 19th Foot, and were currently was stationed in the state of Punjab. That would mean a long road trip once they reached Bombay.
"First a ship, now a long road trip…can't we just rent a nice house and stay here…send him a letter?"
"Darlin' you are goin ta learn, I don't settle well. It's an adventure."
"Whatever you say, Logan." She sighed. They spent the rest of the day getting making purchases and ordering what they would need for the trip. Logan groaned at the cost, but paid without complaint. They returned to the inn late that evening and ate dinner in the common room again. Daniel and his men arrived and joined them.
"How's married life?" He asked after Logan sent Mel up to the room.
"Good – better than I expected to be honest. The girl doesn't have an adventurous bone in her body, but we will fix that." He grinned.
"Still a girl – huh." The ship's master grinned.
"No – MY girl." Logan grinned back.
"Good. I heard Abbott was in England."
"I dealt with him. We aren't stickin' around to see if it worked. Headin' ta India to find her uncle still."
"I will be meeting Miller here tomorrow night. I can introduce you. He's a good man – good crew. They will get you there safe."
"I appreciate it, Dan." They finished their beers and Logan went up to bed. Some of their purchases had been delivered already and the room was crowded. Mel was curled up in bed, covered in her nightgown again.
"Darlin' that thing is about as big a nuisance as the corset." He said as he stripped to his trousers.
"Why?"
"I'll just take it off." He grinned over at her. She blushed.
"Logan – are you…are we going to do – that – every night."
"Don't see why not." She blushed again. He laughed. "Darlin' you are my wife, a man expects to make love to his wife on a regular basis."
"Is that what they mean by wifely duty?"
"Yes, Darlin' that's the main duty."
"Well it's not so bad." He burst out laughing.
"We'll see about 'not so bad' when you are screaming my name again." He didn't think her face could get any redder – and then he took off his pants.
"Darlin' you are goin ta have ta get past this shyness. I don't like ta sleep in my clothes."
He pulled her against his side, the cotton nightgown harsh against his skin. "You have two choices, Darlin'. I can rip this thing to shreds or you can take it off. I prefer the feel of your skin to this harsh fabric." He whispered against her hair.
She blushed, but sat up and pulled the gown over her head, throwing it on the floor next to the bed.
"That's better." He said as he kissed her. He reached over and snuffed the candle with his fingers.
It took them two weeks to get everything ready for the trip, and then hire a carriage to take them back to Portsmouth. They boarded the JeannieDawn, and set sail. This time they shared a cabin, and he held her through her getting her sea legs. The JeannieDawn was a passenger ship first, and they had the company of several Army wives and families heading to join up with their husbands in India. Melanie recovered quickly, and before long was a good sailor. Storms caused her to become ill, but that was about it.
They marveled together as they watched the shores of Africa slip by, and he held her as they made the treacherous turn around the Horn. Whenever they made port, he took her ashore and they explored as much as they could before they had to return to ship.
They had been at sea about two months, when she started getting sick again. The seas were calm, but she complained about the motion of the ship. He let her sleep, as much as she could and she seemed to get better later in the day. They were about two weeks out of Bombay when one of the wives congratulated him, and he understood.
"Mel – are you alright?" He asked at dinner. She seemed fine, but he knew she didn't understand why she was ill.
"I'm fine. I don't know what it is. I am as hungry as a horse in the evenings and can't hold down anything at all in the mornings." She glared at him as he grinned. He couldn't help it.
"Darlin' I think I can say with certainty that this isn't sea sickness." She looked at him in confusion.
"But – I have never been sick like this before."
"You have never been with child before either." He waited for his statement to sink in.
"With – a baby – I'm carrying a child. How did that happen?" He spit his wine back into his glass, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
"Darlin' that's the normal result of what we have been doin' – in bed."
"Oh…OH!" She blushed furiously.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you where babies come from?"
"No." He rolled his eyes. Charles was lucky Abbott had killed him – Logan wouldn't have been quite as nice.
"Darlin' we can talk about this later. It's not exactly polite dinner conversation." He smiled at her.
"A baby!" She whispered.
One of the women traveling with them was a midwife and after Mel went back to their cabin he asked her to stop by their cabin and make sure everything was alright. He went out on deck, a cigar in hand. SHIT! A baby – maybe Mel had been right, maybe they should have rented a house in London – sent Billyboy a letter. Naaa – she would be fine. They would be fine. Women had babies all the time all over the world. It wouldn't make any difference if they were in London – or Punjab the baby would come when it was ready.
The midwife said Melanie was healthy and everything seemed normal, so he stopped worrying. They had time for adventure, before they had to stop for a baby. He grinned as he climbed in bed.
"Logan, I really just want to go to sleep tonight." She said, almost timidly.
"Sure, Darlin' – come here." He settled her against his shoulder.
"Mrs. Anderson explained a whole lot – I didn't realize how little I knew about married life – about being a wife and a mother. I will try to do better, Logan."
"Darlin' you are just fine. I know I said I didn't want to do this – that I only did it because I felt responsible. That ain't true – least not anymore. I can't think of anything I want more than you as my wife, carrying my child. You are my girl – don't ever forget it." He whispered against her hair, kissing the peak of mahogany at the top of her forehead. She snuggled deeper against his side, her fingers twirling the hair on his chest.
"I love you, Logan." She whispered. He felt his heart lurch to his throat. He never expected to hear those words – not from her. Comfortable – yes, care for – yes but love – never. He felt a burning in the back of his eyes.
"Darlin'" He tried to get the words out, but they caught in his throat. "You – I – love you. I think I have – for a long damned time." He felt her smile against his shoulder. He just held her, as she drifted off to sleep. How the hell had everything changed so quickly. He didn't care. He took life as it came, and if it chose to give him something good and decent for a change, he wasn't going to fight it.
Bombay was noisy – crowded and noisy – worse than London had been. Mrs. Anderson, whose husband was with the 19th also offered to take them to the lodgings set up for the military families. They agreed – Logan couldn't imagine trying to find lodgings in this city. They were given a room and were told a caravan was leaving for Punjab the next week. Mrs. Anderson was going to be traveling with them so Melanie wouldn't be the only woman on the trip. Logan smiled at the way this adventure kept falling into place.
They had been in Bombay two days when a dirty boy knocked at the door of the barracks they were living in. He was escorting an old man dressed in red robes. They were fortune tellers, Logan wanted to send them away, but Mrs. Anderson and some of the other wives thought it would be fun.
The old man entered the common room. The boy translated what he said. Each woman gave him her hand. The old man didn't pull any punches – he told the bad with the good, which surprised Logan a bit. Melanie put her hand in his – and he threw it to the ground, before grabbing Logan's hand.
"The woman and her children are doomed. Make her time in this world as happy as you can – for it will be short. You – sahib – are cursed – cursed to walk this world and never see Nirvana. Their deaths will be painful and frightening and alone and it will be one hundred and fifty monsoons before you will see her face again – before she has the courage to face life again." He could smell Melanie's fear.
"Get out – GET OUT!" Two soldiers removed the man and boy. Logan put his arms around his frightened wife. "He's just trying to get us to pay him to come up with something else. Mel, I won't ever leave you alone so how can you die alone." She smiled at him, and slipped her arms around his waist. He held her close, and made a silent vow to prove the old man wrong.
