Grimacing, Logan shot a glare at the window, as though the sheer magnitude of his disapproval would sent the storm clouds scattering as it often did with his young students. While it certainly wasn't pouring down as he had often seen happen around Vancouver or raining freaking sideways as was wont to happen during the monsoon season in Thailand, the steady drizzle that had settled itself over Westchester County would still be a righteous pain in the ass, particularly on his bike. He wondered quietly if he still had any of that saddle soap Kiera had given him. Her own special blend, she had told him, that would both keep his leather supple as well as slightly waterproof thanks to the significant amount of grape-seed oil she mixed in.
Shooting one last glance at the pattern of streaks and drops covering his window, Logan sighed. He would just have to rent a room sometime in the next 8 hours or so and give his gear a good rub down. "Not really sure when I last weather-proofed that stuff." He muttered, trying to think back. Shaking his head, he began to slowly shove the last of his necessities into the two large saddlebags that he would soon swing over the back of his Harley as he rode off into the proverbial sunset. He wanted to travel light, no more than what he could take with him in the old army bag he kept folded under the seat of his bike.
Quickly, he ran over the initial stages of his plan. He'd head out within the next half hour or so and head north. An ancient buddy from his days wandering Japan of his was looking for a gift for his grandson (kid had just gotten his motorcycle licence.) What better gift than a Harley Davidson? The kid would be raving about it for years to come which would promote Ole Yuri up to the level of 'Best Granddad Ever' for probably the rest of his born days. In exchange, Yuri would give him the beat up old pickup he always kept out in the barn. Not really the fairest trade in the world, especially given how much work he was sure that old heap would need, but it was high time he picked up a new bike anyway. It would be a Harley; it would always be a Harley. Probably try picking up another old beater from his day, give another go at making her sparkle again. It would mean less time stuck for days on end in the mansion, something a little more than virtual figures in the Danger Room to beat his hands against.
Logan smiled as he thought of it, remembering those months he had spent out in the garage all those years ago, gradually improving the bike he had now. There had been fewer Danger Room sessions during those months as he could recall, with the bike acting as a secondary outlet for any aggression and anger he would feel. The pain of rapping his knuckles on the inner workings of his girl's engine, while fleeting, often served to redirect some of the angry feelings that would flow through him now and then. It might prove to be a good investment to repeat the process.
Spotting a flash of red out of the corner of his eye, Logan sighed. He had hoped to avoid dealing with this today, but obviously that wasn't meant to be. "What do you want Jean?" He called, not even sparing a glance towards the psychic at his door as he continued to move about his room, gathering his things.
Jean lowered the arm she had been about to knock with and stepped into the room. "You know, sometimes I wonder if you don't actually have some kind of psychic ability." She was trying to joke, he realised. Too bad it really wasn't her forte. Or maybe he was just getting really tired of her attempts to worm her way back into an influential position in his life.
And so he said nothing, simply continued packing, hopefully she would either get to the point or get out. Behind his back, Logan felt more than heard the nervously frustrated sigh. "So you're leaving us again. Any idea for how long?"
"Depends on what kind of answers I can find."
Jean sighed once more, once again highly frustrated. "Logan, we've been over this. You have to find these things out on your own. I can't just tell you what you were."
"Wasn't asking you to." Feeling as though there wasn't anything he had forgotten Logan grabbed his bags, preparing to go. Flipping the hood of the sweatshirt he wore over his head, Logan moved to grab the leather jacket he had flung over the back of a nearby chair. As he moved, the jacket spontaneously began to float towards him. Rolling his eyes, Logan snatched the jacket out of the air and slipped it on over his sweatshirt, hoping the leather would at least keep him somewhat dry and the sweatshirt would keep him reasonably warm.
"You're welcome." Jean uttered, incredulous.
"It was two steps Jean and I didn't ask you to do it." Logan replied, stepping around her and out into the hall, swinging the bags up over his shoulder as he went. "I thought it would have been obvious, particularly to you Jean, that I am not a child who needs to have his things brought to him."
"I never said you were, but is it such a bad thing for me to want to help you? Even with a small thing like this?" Reaching out, Jean clutched at his arm, desperation coloring her scent. Unbidden, the kiss Kiera had slapped him with the night before floated to the forefront of his mind. The passion of the kiss, the strength she had used to yank him down to her, the towering fury she had shown him, all were at such complete odds with the cringing desperate woman before him. "What happened to us Logan? We used to be so close, such good friends." Logan felt her fingers digging even harder into his flesh at his silence. "Logan..."
"Hey Logan." The speed at which Jean dropped his arm was staggering. But then again, that was generally the trend when ones husband showed up while you were trying to worm your way back into the good graces of your other man. "Hi sweetheart." Wrapping an arm around Jean's waist, Scott planted a soft kiss against her temple. Quietly, Logan wondered to himself how he could have ever imagined coming between them. Scott adored Jean, for reasons he was slowly becoming less and less aware of.
She had played them, was still trying to play them. The look she was giving him could not have been more obvious if she had broken into his mind and laid out her intentions for his inner eye to see. But this time he chose to turn his attention back to Scott. "So you're leaving us again, huh? Where are you headed this time?" As he spoke, Scott kept his arm possessively entwined about his wife's waist; still thinking Logan's wolf would suddenly rear up and start ravaging her.
A small smirk played at the corner of Logan's lips as he replied. "A buddy's place first. I owe him a favour. He's been looking for a decent bike to give to his grandson ever since the kid got his licence and apparently my old Harley fits the bill."
"But you love that bike." Jean exclaimed, her eyes wide. He sensed her shock and, in a way, understood it. Logan was not a man who changed his ways easily and yet, here he was, ready to give up his most prized possession. It shocked even him a little bit.
So he shrugged. "Yeah, I love her. The old girl's done a lot for me over the years. But that kid's going to love her just as much as I have for probably the better part of his life, and I think it's time to start rebuilding another one. Make some new memories with a new bike." Shooting a quick glance at Jean, he groaned inwardly. She was reading far too deeply into this, seeing herself as the old Harley, about to be replaced by another. 'Damnit! I really do not need this kind of aggravation today.' He thought, pulling his gaze back to Scott.
"Planning another restoration session?" the shaded man asked, now actively curious. He and Logan might, at one point, have been rivals for the same woman, but that hardly meant they couldn't appreciate some of the same things. Scott had always been interested in his bike, just never quite had the personality or the stones to ride one. 'Not yet any way, but maybe down the road.'
"Yeah. Thinkin' about a two-fer this time. Yuri is going to swap me a beat up old junker he likes to call a pick-up truck for the Harley." Glancing around at the school, Logan slowly started for the door, Scott and Jean slowly falling into step alongside him. "Figured I'd fix that one up first, if it's possible, then maybe pick up a new bike to work on."
Scott nodded thoughtfully. "School could use another work truck. Kiera could use the one we have now to help her, without it interfering so much with anything else that might be going on here at the school." Logan made no comment on the soft wince that crossed Jean's face at the mention of her rival's name.
"That was the idea." Logan said, glancing about, quietly wondering just how much this place would change in the time he'd be gone. Just how long would he be gone this time? And bearing that in mind, would this trip actually shed any light on the issues he was having with Kiera and his feelings for her. "Besides, since she's started forging all her horses' shoes, she needs the space to store her forge and her materials."
"Forging shoes. Well I suppose that is fairly impressive." Jean muttered begrudgingly.
Scott either ignored or chose not to comment on his wife's petulant tone. "She's been taking on a lot of responsibility over there hasn't she?" he said as he glanced out one of the many windows, out towards the lawn being spattered with rain. "We might want to try broaching the subject of hiring on some help for her again."
"You go ahead and do that Scotty-boy. Just wait till I get back so I can keep her from hurting you too badly for the implication." Giving Scott a firm clap to the shoulder, Logan began to stride towards the door. "You know how she hates taking on any kind of help from outside the school. Doesn't trust it."
"With all the extra weight she's been taking on, and with you hitting the road, you would think she'd welcome an extra pair of hands." Jean's tone stopped Logan in his tracks, nearly causing divots in the brickwork of the front of the Manor. Snide and scheming, it caused his vision to tinge red ever so slightly and him to turn on his heels, ready to finally shut Jean up.
A pleasant surprise occurred though, when Scott beat him to the punch. "It's not that she's against the help honey," Scott said, his voice slightly reproachful. "She just prefers to do things her way. She usually makes the kids in her lessons help her out, but with them having their own schedules to deal with, they can't always do everything that needs doing. Having her forge any of the shoes the horses need is actually a really cost effective option for the school. Now all we need is to see if we can find an extra set of hands to help her out that she would be willing to take on. She's going to run herself ragged otherwise."
"I know Big Blue is more than happy to help her whenever he's able to, but let's face it, that's few and far between at best." Logan said, eager to leave and feel the rush of freedom running through his veins. He got a brief taste of that feeling as the wind shifted, brushing over the side of his face. "Whenever he's not occupied with something in Washington, there's something here at the school that needs his attention. The same goes for the rest of us. We've all got our own responsibilities." Taking a few, quiet breaths, Logan smirked, scanning his surroundings before resting his eyes on a small patch of shadows clustered at the side of the mansion, waiting for him. "I'm sure you'll have figured something out by the time I get back." Shifting his feet, Logan made a decision. He held out a hand to Scott. "I suppose this is goodbye for now Cy. Try not to get yourself into too much trouble while I'm gone."
That caused Scott to let loose a barking laugh. "You arrogant bastard." He laughed, reaching forward and clasping Logan's hand in his. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Arching an eyebrow, Logan smirked. "So... What, you want me to enter the priesthood?"
"Whatever man, just try and stay out of trouble alright?" Scott asked, rolling his eyes as he stepped back, moving to wind his arm about Jean's waist.
"You know me Scott, couldn't stay out of trouble if I tried." Turning, Logan nodded his head slightly. "Stay safe Jean." He said, turning away, not even bothering a glance back as he heard her murmur a response as he strode over to the garage.
As Scott stared after the feral, his smile shrunk ever so slightly. Glancing down at Jean, the little voice in the back of Scott' mind began to whisper to him, wondering exactly what he had just witnessed going on between Logan and his wife. "Come on Jean." He said, deciding to leave the question for another day. "We've got to get to class."
As the couple turned and headed inside, Logan rounded the shady corner of the mansion. "They're gone Kiera." He said, pausing in his walk. "You can come out now."
"Didn't think a scene between Jean and me would have been the most appropriate thing for the time." A shadow slowly detached from the wall as a slightly dripping Kiera came into view. Her hair darkened and plastered to her body by the falling rain, but it didn't seem to faze her. "So this is it? You're leaving?"
"Seems like." He replied, wondering just where this was going.
Kiera sighed, frustration coloring her scent, but frustration at what, Logan wasn't sure. "Look, what happened between us last night is over and done with." She said, shaking her bangs out of her eyes. "Now, I'm not going to lie, I don't want you to go. I like having you here."
"If only because you find it fun to make my life a nightmare?" He asked, a joking smile tugging at his lips.
Her laugh was quiet, and yet it echoed against the brickwork of the manor. "Among other things." She replied. There was a pause as she slowly considered what to say next, unwilling to allow her meaning to be lost in nuances and double meanings. It was a trait Logan often wished he number amongst his strengths. Often times, when it was most important that he be heard, was when Logan was the most careless with his tongue. The frustration would be too much for his short fuse. And though her fuse was no longer than his, Logan noticed that the more important the argument was to her, the harder Kiera would try to keep her composure and make herself heard. "I'm going to miss you Logan." She said, finally settling on the safer option.
"I'll miss you to kid." He replied, smirking.
Rolling her eyes, Kiera took a half-hearted swipe at his arm, one he easily dodged. "That was your one free pass Old man." She said, smirking as Logan growled low at her, trying her best to quash the shivers running up her spine. "So... how long are you going to be gone?"
As the words left her lips, Logan marvelled at the difference between two near identical questions. A single hesitation, a different phrasing, and a question that had annoyed him beyond belief earlier that day now made him wonder.
And so he shrugged and gave her the same answer he had given Jean. "Depends on what kind of answers I can find I guess."
Unlike this morning though, Kiera paused, staring at him. "What kind of answers are you looking for?" His confusion was obvious as she continued. "Are you looking to find out who you are... or what you've done?" she asked, taking a step towards him, raising her right hand as though to stroke his cheek. But hesitation once again prevailed and it fell back to play with the pendant at her neck.
"Who I am would probably be a good start." Logan said, eyeing her. "Kiera... Kiera, I need to find this out on my own."
"I know." She replied, nodding as he took another step closer, bringing them toe-to-toe. "But do you really want to go traipsing about the world on little more than rumour and innuendo for however long this trip takes you?"
"What are you suggesting?"
She shrugged. "We're still friends Logan. If you'd let me in... You're right; you do need to find these things out on your own. But I'd like to at least be able to point you in the right direction, maybe help you find some of the answers you're looking for."
It was a tempting offer she was presenting, and it would save him a great deal of time once he was done with Yuri and at least he would know the trails he was on would eventually lead somewhere, if he asked the right questions of the right people. It would still be frustrating, but at least there would be the promise of success. So he nodded.
Her right hand dropped the pendant, a Celtic tree of life knot; he now realised and brought it back up towards his cheek. "And just so we're clear here," she said, her fingertips hovering just above his temple. "Anything I find in there, unless you want to ask me about it yourself, I will take to my grave. Your secrets and memories are yours to keep until you see fit."
"Thank you." He murmured as she lowered her hand to gently stroke his face.
The sensations he experienced were entirely different from what he had ever experienced with either Wheels or Jean. Wheels would quietly slip in and out with the precision of a surgeon, finding the information he was permitted and then withdrawing as quickly and seamlessly as possible, but still leaving a faint scar to indicate his presence. Jean, on the other hand, would simply march in and take what she wanted, not caring what she may trample on in her quest.
Kiera was different. Kiera was... warm. She slowly slipped into his mind, taking care to tread lightly. She moved slowly through his mind, gently sorting though his mind until she finally came up against the black wall that barred him from half his life. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt her tenderly run her psychic fingers down the wall, softly prodding and searching for a way in before deftly slipping in between the cracks he was never able to find. Her presence remained soothing and warm as she continued to take her time sifting through memories he hadn't experienced in years, taking as much care with each moment as one would a newborn infant.
And with a sigh, she was gone, his mind none the worse for wear as she pulled her hand back, blinking her eyes rapidly as she centered herself once more into the physical world. "Alberta." She murmured, more than a little breathless. "Late 19th century. There'll be records. You'll know it when you see them."
"Are you ok Kiera?" Logan asked, bringing his hands up to grasp her shoulders, steadying her.
"I'm fine." She said, taking a breath. "It just takes a bit out of me, being in there that long." Shaking her head, she took a moment to take a few breaths, finally wrenching herself from the images flashing through her head. "If you feel up to it, you might also be able find some help through the Blackfoot nation there. You'll probably find someone up there who knew you."
She looked as though she might have wanted to say more, like there was something she was leaving out. When she didn't speak, Logan grew a little impatient. "What is it Kiera?" he all but barked. "What aren't you telling me?"
She grimaced at his tone, not liking the anger that lay there. "You've had a very hard life Logan." She said, her voice quiet. "Harder than I think even you have imagined. Make no mistake, whatever you find out there, you're not going to like much of it."
"I rarely like much of anything." He replied, trying to bring a smile to her face.
He was partially successful, as a small smirk tugged at her lips. "Well, you know where to find me when you get back."
Nodding, Logan turned to go, shrugging his bags bag up onto his shoulder. "Take care of yourself Kiera. Don't make me have to come back here early and kick your ass for getting hurt."
"Hey Logan!" Turning back, Logan found himself just about swallowed up in a massive hug. Her scent surrounded him, sadness and longing the most prevalent notes tickling his nose. Dropping his bags, Logan brought his arms to return the hug, pulling her tight to his chest as he realized how long it might be until he saw her again. As the thought crossed his mind, he also realized just how little he liked that idea. "Do me a favour," she muttered against his shoulder. "Be careful ok? You can be a magnet for trouble sometimes."
"I'm not the only one." With one last squeeze, Logan let her go, his inner wolf once again going absolutely berserk, even as the more human side of him begged her not to let go. Shoving both sides back, Logan picked his bags back up and slung them over his shoulder. Turning, he began to walk briskly towards the garage. He needed to get out of there quickly before he did something he wasn't sure he'd regret. Turning his head, he called over his shoulder, "When I get back, I expect you to be in one piece."
"I'll do my best." She replied, watching him disappear into the garage. A few moments of silence, she heard his Harley's engine roar to life and watched him pull out onto the drive. Was it just her, or did it look like he was slowing down as he drew nearer? 'I hope it isn't just me.' She thought, raising her hand to wave as he rode past, down towards the gate.
The wind whistled around his head as Logan pulled out onto the streets, feeling the engine growl and shiver beneath him like a living thing. Inhaling deeply, he took in the myriad of scents Westchester currently had to offer as he flew past her buildings. He wasn't quite sure what this trip would bring, or where exactly it would take him, but at least it would take him somewhere.
Pulling to a stop at a red, Logan wasn't quite sure what it was that made him do it, but he spared a glance back towards the imposing building he was leaving behind. You could barely see it, but there it was, that little glimmer of wet, dark gold that he could pick out among a crowd of thousands. She continued to watch him go, even after he had become little more than a speck in the distance. He wasn't quite sure why, but it brought small smile to his face to see. This was the first time in all his years of teaching at the Institute that anyone had ever watched him, really watched him ride off into the sunset, cliché as it might have been.
The blare of a car horn behind him brought him back to the reality of the rain beating down his back and green light before him. Revving the engine, he slowly began to pull away, the smile still on his face, despite the weather. As his bike swiftly came up to speed, his smile grew with the feeling of the rain whipping his face, the freedom rushing through his veins was the best rush in the world he could possibly feel, and the fact that he was heading towards some answers, only made that feeling sweeter.
As she watched him disappear into the distance, Kiera sighed, glancing up towards the sky. 'Whoever's listening up there, give him strength.' She begged. 'Please, give him strength. He's going to need it if he does find the answers he's looking for.'