Chapter Five – Proposals and Heartbreak
Logan couldn't sleep. He was too hyped up to sleep. He was in new territory. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he felt…well…happy. He was on such a high that he was itching to burst from the motel, allow the dark, snow-covered trees to swallow him up and howl his joy into the night. Straight at the Wolf Moon that Marie seemed so enamoured of.
He turned to watch her sleeping peacefully beside him, accepting that at the same time he couldn't bare to leave her. Never wanted to leave her side. Never wanted to stop inhaling her sweet scent, or stop savouring the comforting warmth of her naked body next to his.
He had never felt this way about a woman before.
Last night had been amazing. Making love to Marie – and it had been making love - had almost felt like a re-birth, a cleansing away of the old Logan and all the emotional baggage he had been carrying around for the past twenty years. He knew it was inevitable that the sentiment would wear off eventually, and his past, or lack of it, would soon return to haunt him again - this was real life after all - but for now he was appreciating every second of feeling so…so light…it almost felt as if he no longer had metal forged to his bones.
He wanted so much to reach out and touch her, just to prove to himself that she was real. That she wasn't just an illusion conjured by desperation and need. She had come into his life so quickly that she seemed like she was part of a dream. The first good dream he had had in a long time.
He fought to swallow down his emotions.
Yeah. A very long time.
A hint of a smile tugged at his lips.
If she was real, he was never gonna let her go, and if she wasn't, he was never gonna wake up.
His eyes grew heavy. Either way…she was his.
With that closing thought he finally succumbed to sleep.
And woke, three hours later to discover that she was still lying beside him, as real as the new dawn.
"Hey."
Marie smiled sleepily up at him as he rested his head in his hand, watching her. "Hey yourself."
He reached down to kiss her hard, impatient to taste her again, to reassure himself that she really was no illusion, the heat of her willing mouth making his inner Wolverine growl expectantly.
When they parted she slapped a hand to her lips, face colouring bashfully. "I've probably got morning breath!" she warned despairingly.
Logan grinned, amused yet surprised that such a trivial thing would bother her. The idea that she could suddenly become so self-conscious and coy after the passionate woman she had been last night turned him on incredibly. "You taste good enough to me." He reached across to run the back of his fingers down her flushed cheek. "You look good too, baby."
She dropped her gaze. "Logan…I…"
He felt a spark of concern as his eyes searched her face. "What is it?"
"I…" She sat up in bed hugging her knees to her chest and Logan couldn't help but sweep an appreciative gaze up the gentle curve of her naked back. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea…I don't usually…well…you're my first since David. I don't usually sleep with guys on the first date."
He let out a subtle sigh of relief. "So that was a date then?" he teased, his stare burning into her perfect profile, with the slightly upturned nose and full…so very inviting lips.
Marie turned to look at him. She smiled shyly. "I guess it was. Kinda bizarre one, huh?"
"Best date I've had, darlin'"
But he was done with talking, moving in to kiss her again as he pulled her back down onto the bed.
Logan scowled up into the sky. The clouds were low and sluggish and weighted with snow and he didn't think the morning was going to remain clear for long.
"Wanna grab some breakfast at the diner?"
Marie followed him out of his motel room. "Have we time?"
He shrugged. "Well, we're not punching a clock exactly. Eight was just a random time." He peered down at his watch. "It's almost eight now but I doubt the garage will be open until nine anyway."
She smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Then breakfast would be good."
As they crossed to the diner Logan came very close to slipping his hand into hers but something held him back. He still felt angry with himself for making the moves on Marie last night, especially after promising himself that he wouldn't, and he refused to let the fact that she seemed quite happy with the way things had turned out, excuse him in anyway.
To his relief the diner was much busier than the previous night and he thought it ironic that the greater number of customers seemed to usually ensure a greater amount of privacy. As they looked around for somewhere to sit he also noticed that a different woman had replaced the nosey waitress from before.
"That booth beside the radiator is free," he gestured.
Marie followed his gaze. "D'ya know…I don't feel cold at all this morning," she breezed happily, although they chose the booth anyway.
They ordered coffees and pancakes and this time there was none of the awkwardness of the previous night. It had been replaced with a different kind of discomposure; that strained anticipation felt between new lovers. Logan warmed to the alien feeling quicker than he thought he would. It was another thing that was new to him. He had always been confident sexually, and still was, but he was now so very conscious of Marie, of wanting to please her, make her happy…in bed as well as out of it.
He was no longer just thinking about himself, his needs and desires, and he had to admit that the sudden sense of responsibility scared the shit out of him. But on the other hand, it also added to that good feeling that was steadily germinating within him.
"Marie…I'm sorry about last night."
She looked a little perturbed. "I hope you mean the claws and not the us part."
He frowned, his gaze turning serious. He hoped that she was just teasing and wasn't actually thinking that last night meant nothing to him. "Marie…" he insisted firmly. "What happened…between us last night…was…was…"
Her eyes urged him to continue but he couldn't. He couldn't find the words. It was too hard. Frustrated, this time Logan and not the Wolverine growled within him, hating his one weakness.
"The claws part," he finally blurted.
She looked disappointed but perceptive enough to remain understanding. She fleetingly dropped her gaze to the table before slowly meeting his eyes again, the chocolate brown seeming to soften and liquefy. "I'll say it for you," she murmured, leaning toward him slightly. "Incredible," she literally purred and Logan was hypnotised by her bonding stare. "And that wasn't the claws part."
He found his own breath snagging in his throat. "Yeah…" he agreed huskily, wanting nothing more than to drag her back to the motel and reinforce that statement.
"But…about the claws part," she added quietly, her sultry countenance swiftly replaced by an edge of apprehension, much to Logan's disappointment.
He felt his stomach lurch and he flicked his gaze out of the window, eyes narrowing at the bleak grey morning. Not now, baby, he begged silently. Don't spoil things. Not yet.
"Is that…is that actually a mutation? It seems so…"
His eyes snapped back onto her. "Unnatural?"
"Yeah," she whispered sympathetically.
"That's 'cause it is." He ran a hand through his hair uneasily. "Mind if we take a rain check on that subject?"
She reached her hand out across the table and he found himself clenching it desperately.
"Of course I don't mind."
"I will tell ya," he promised, and he knew that he would. He wanted to. He wanted to keep nothing from Marie.
"I know you will," she soothed. "When you're ready."
"Your breakfast," the new waitress suddenly announced and they swiftly released hands. This time, however, they exchanged discreet wry smiles as she deposited their plates and mugs onto the table. "Enjoy." The woman had as much enthusiasm as a dog about to be spayed.
As she walked away Marie rolled her eyes. "I think it's a conspiracy!"
"I think you might be right, kid."
Marie glanced down at her breakfast and Logan followed her gaze to the generous pancake oozing maple syrup. He couldn't usually stomach breakfast but this morning he found himself with a craving for something sweet.
"Pancakes look good," she pointed out. "Wonder if they taste as good as they look."
"You sure did, baby," Logan couldn't resist saying.
He loved to see her blush. It brought out her eyes strikingly. For a distraction she promptly reached for her fork. "Let's eat," she teased, echoing her words from their previous diner visit.
Logan felt disheartened to be back on the road and he wondered what was going to happen now. He didn't think that Marie had seen last night as a one off, in fact he was sure of it, but she hadn't said anything to confirm her feelings one way or the other. They had eaten their breakfast, agreed that the pancakes were indeed good, discussed the possibility of more snow on its way, paid the bill and left. That was it.
And now here they were again.
Logan knew that he had to kick his ass into gear before it might be too late.
"Marie…"
She had been peering out of the window and she looked around at him hopefully.
"Marie…I have a proposal."
"Of marriage?" she laughed nervously. "That's a bit soon, don't you think?"
After his initial shock of the idea had faded (or was it the shock that it wouldn't seem such a bad idea?) he grinned. "No…the other kind of proposal." But never say never, darlin', he found himself thinking.
She nodded gently. "I'm listening."
That hope in her face intensified and Logan felt some of his fears dissolve away. He realised that she might want this too.
"How's about we explore Canada together? Let me show you around. I know the best places to go…the safest…we could share motel rooms, divide the costs…but if I'm moving too fast for ya…" It came out as one long desperate plea; he could hear it in every syllable, every subtle shift in pace and tone. He was literally begging her. Begging her not to leave him.
At his words the Wolverine turned away angrily, retreating deep within him, not wanting to be a part of this pathetic display. But Logan didn't care. All he cared about was her answer.
The smile she gave him in return was the most beautiful one to date. Her face literally shone with delight. "I would love that, Logan," she whispered shakily.
"We could even spend a few days in my cabin in the Rockies, if yer like. It's pretty basic but there's great views."
She nodded, seeming too overwhelmed to speak. Eventually she managed: "But what about your fighting?"
He shrugged dismissively. "Made enough money to last me a good while. Competition's been getting a bit stale anyway."
That wasn't entirely true, he admitted to himself, recalling his last fighting opponent. He had proved to be a challenge in more ways than one. Not just physically tough but driven in a way that Logan had found mildly disturbing. There had been something unsettling about his eyes…they hadn't seemed…stable. And yet there had been a fire within them that Logan had recognised all too well, because he saw it in his own eyes every time he looked into a mirror.
Demons. Lots of them.
And anger.
But aimed at him personally, or the world in general, Logan hadn't been able to determine. In all honesty, he hadn't been able to suss out much over that awful reek that permeated from every pore of the man's body. It even overpowered his sweat and that had been potent enough.
Garlic.
What did he do? Eat the stuff by the bucket load?
"If you're sure?" Marie interrupted his musings and he instantly forgot about Garlic Man.
"Baby, I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
"Then I need to tell you something…"
He frowned his curiosity as he stared out across the freeway. "Shoot."
She fidgeted a moment in her seat and he guessed that she was turning her body awkwardly in the belt to face him. "Last night…after your claws came out…did you hear what I said?"
His frown deepened as he tried to think but he finally accepted that he had been too caught up in his nightmare to recall a lot that had happened before Marie had actually touched his claws.
A shiver of longing ran down his spine as he acknowledged that tentative caress. No woman had ever dared do that before. No woman had shown that much trust in him. It made Marie seem all the more special. All the more precious.
He finally shook his head. "Sorry, darlin'"
She hesitated a moment before finally revealing: "I was relieved that you were a mutant too."
He quickly met her gaze, thankful that this particular section of freeway was not only straight but seemed to be unusually light of commuter traffic.
"Logan, I'm a mutant too."
"What -"
"My skin. When people touch my skin they get hurt."
"But last night?" Logan was confused.
"I can control it. Turn it off and on at will. I didn't used to be able to but…but after the accident it just happened."
"You never said -"
"It's hard to talk about," she cut him off.
"So those scars? On your legs?" he asked curiously but immediately felt bad for doing so. She says it's hard to talk about, bub! he reprimanded himself angrily.
She nodded her head so subtly it appeared more like a nervous twitch. "From the accident," she confirmed wretchedly. "I was trapped…they had to cut me free…"
He saw her blink back tears and he reached out a hand to softly stroke her hair. "We can take a rain check on that too, baby."
"Thanks, Logan."
He took another deep breath and realised that he was doing that a lot around Marie. She made him care when he had never cared about anything before. Not even about himself. Not anything that went deeper than the fundamentals of survival. "We're in this together," he declared throatily, those emotions overwhelming him again.
"Yeah," she promised back.
Her scent, so saturated with happiness, seemed to flood the cab like an alluring perfume and Logan found himself unconsciously projecting out his whole body…just a fraction…in an attempt to absorb every single inch of her joy, just like she had tried to inhale his cigar smoke yesterday.
The thought made him smile.
"Why the smile?" she asked gently and he realised that she had been watching him.
"Nothin'," he insisted, caught off guard.
"If you say so," she countered and he could tell that she was grinning.
"Mind if I smoke?" he added, in an attempt to change the subject.
"I'd be disappointed if you didn't."
"So, I'm grandpa again?" he joked dryly.
He never would have believed that a laugh could prove so instantly addictive, but hers was like a drug to his senses. It made him think of poetry, of all the pansy ass things, of comparing it to the warmth of a clear summer's day, climbing up through lush forest, up into the mountains, to the only place he ever felt a moment's freedom from his travesty of a life. But what was even more surprising – even embarrassing to his inner Wolverine - was that he was eager to take a hit too, seduced by its warmth, its exoticness…and implications.
It sounded strange to hear himself laugh. Like he was listening to a stranger. Yet it felt kinda nice too. Like he was welcoming back a long lost friend.
He hoped, with what was left of his shattered heart, that he was here to stay.
They pulled into Laughlin City about ten minutes later and Logan was a little surprised to notice more vehicles than usual blocking the streets around the bar's car park.
Two were cop cars.
He didn't know why but he suddenly felt a little knot of dread coil tightly within him. Like his heightened senses had picked up on the fact that something wasn't quite right. When he stopped in front of the bright orange tape that cordoned off the car park blocking the entrance, that feeling intensified and the hairs on the back of his neck pricked up.
Marie must've detected his shift in mood because she turned to him in concern. "Logan, what is it? What's wrong?"
"I dunno," was all he could offer, and he could hear fear in his words, but at the same time every part of him was becoming alert in readiness as his eyes flicked frantically back and forth, searching the unusual commotion that seemed to be going on.
Already a cop was approaching the camper van and he motioned for Logan to wind down the window.
But no sooner had Logan did as the man asked, death rushed gleefully into the cab, like a predator who had finally been rewarded with its prey, and slipped an icy grip tightly around his throat. As Logan fought to breathe, the mocking message it brought was already old news.
Because Logan knew. He could smell it. Could smell the blood.
Treena's blood.
In a single instant, all of his hopes, his newfound happiness – his world - came crashing down around him as death joined life, reunited partners in crime, to laugh triumphantly into his face.