Disclaimer: We don't own these people.  Get over yourself, bub.

Rating: Strong R for language, violence, mature themes, nudity, and sexual content!

Summary: What if Logan was a woman?  Read and find out… ^_^

Author's Note: This is an AU, so all comments about how we messed up the X-universe will be disregarded and we will laugh at you for a very long time. 

Feedback and Archiving: addie_logan@yahoo.com

Shameless Webpage Plug: https://www.angelfire.com/scifi/addielogan

 

Leather and Lace

By: Addie Logan & GambitGirl

*** *** ***

She follows the path of least resistance
She doesn't care to see the mountain top
She twists and turns with no regard to distance
She never comes to a stop

And she rolls, she's a river
Where she goes, time will tell
Heaven knows, he can't go with her
And she rolls, all by herself
All by herself

He's headed for a single destination
He doesn't care what's standing in his path
He's a line between two points of separation
He ends just where it says to on the map

And he rolls, he's a highway
Where he goes, time will tell
Heaven knows, she can't go with him
And he rolls, all by himself
All by himself

And every now and then, he offers her a shoulder
And every now and then, she overflows
And every now and then, a bridge crosses over
It's a moment that every lover knows

And she rolls (and he rolls), she's a river (he's a highway)
Where she goes (where he goes), time will tell (time will tell)
Heaven knows, she can't go with him (he can't go with her)
And she rolls, all by herself
And he rolls, all by himself

Fare thee well

Chapter 1.

She never mentions the word addiction

In certain company

Yes, she’ll tell you she’s an orphan

After you meet her family

 

She paints her eyes as black as night, now

Pulls those shades down tight

Yeah, she gives a smile when the pain comes,

The pain’s gonna make everything alright

 

Says she talks to angels,

They call her out by her name

She talks to angels,

Says they call her out by her name

 

She keeps a lock of hair in her pocket

She wears a cross around her neck

Yes, the hair is from a little boy

And the cross is someone she has not met, not yet

 

Says she talks to angels,

Says they all know her name

Oh yeah, she talks to angels,

Says they call her out by her name

 

She don’t know no lover,

None that I ever seen

Yes, to her that ain’t nothing

But to me, yeah me,

It’s everything

 

She paints her eyes as black as night now

She pulls those shades down tight

Oh yeah, there’s a smile when the pain comes,

The pain’s gonna make everything alright, alright yeah

 

She talks to angels,

Says they call her out by her name

Oh yeah, yeah, angels

Call her out by her name

Oh, angels

They call her out by her name

Oh, she talks to angels

They call her out

Yeah, they call her out

Don’t you know that they call her out by her name

Logan arrived at the mansion, parking her Land Cruiser between Scott's dorkmobile compact and Remy's latest bright red sports car.  She grabbed her small duffle bag out of the rear and headed for the kitchen entrance.  As she was about to push the door inwards she smelled someone approaching from behind.  Logan turned slightly.

"Hi, Cajun."

"Hey dere," said Remy, stepping from the shadows.  "How was th' trip?" 

"Same as always."

"Dat's nice.  Uh, Logan?"

"What?"

"I…uh…" Remy ran a hand through his floppy hair.  "I don' t'ink you should go in dere."

"In where?"

"De mansion."

"And why is this, exactly?  Scott and Jean turn it into a yuppie-filled day spa?"

"Non…it be worse den dat, chère."

"Really?  Now this I gotta see…"  Logan again started to open the kitchen door.

"NON!"

"For Chrissake, Remy, what's the matter with you?"  Remy inserted himself between Logan and the door. 

"Chère, jus' trust me on dis one, okay?  Mebbe you got to de Inn for de night, come back tomorrow, oui?"

"I don't have any clean underwear."

"Umm…I give you money t'buy more.  Jus' stay away from here."  Logan pretended to think it over, then gave Remy a hard shove with her hip and darted inside as he stumbled.  Once she entered the kitchen she stopped dead.  She sniffed once, twice, her delicate nostrils flaring. 

SNIKT!

She whirled to face Remy.  "Where is he?!"

"Chère…"  Logan let out an enraged growl and made a beeline for the lower levels of the mansion.  Remy sighed and hit the comm. by the kitchen door.  "It's me.  Logan jus' got back.  Yeah, I know.  I be right dere."  He released the switch and sighed again, knowing he would find nothing but an ugly scene when he reached the holding cells.

Logan stormed into the lower levels of the mansion, hell-bent on making her way to the brig.

"Logan, just calm down…"

Logan froze, her blue eyes narrowing. "Outta my way, red. Something tells me Scott wouldn't take too kindly to me gutting his wife."

Jean's eyes grew a little wide. "There's no need for violence…"

"What is he doing here?"

"It's complicated…"

Logan pushed Jean to the side. "Then let me get rid of your little complication."

"Logan!"

Jean tried to run after her, but the other woman was already to the brig before she could stop her.

 

Logan came to a stop before the glowing red force field that marked the first holding cell.  The figure inside was mostly shadowed, but there was no mistaking who it was.  Logan spat the word at him.

"Creed."

Victor Creed's mouth formed an almost-psychotic grin. "Hello, runt. Long time no see."

"Not long enough."

"I was wonderin' when you were gonna get back from your latest little escapade. Where was it this time, Logan? Romantic getaway in the Canadian Rockies with some guy you probably won't recognize a week from now?"

"Fuck you, Creed."

Victor just smiled. "You kept me waitin' too long, frail. I've been here two weeks already and I haven't seen yer hide in here once."

Logan's eyes grew a little wide at that. Two weeks and no one had said a thing to her. She'd have to yell at someone for that. Probably Remy. He was supposed to be the one that told her what everyone else was hiding from her…

At that moment Remy came barreling around the corner, followed by Cyclops and Xavier, as well as a cadre of other curious mansion dwellers.  Remy's shoulders slumped with relief when he saw that both parties were still on their respective sides of the force field and no blood had been shed.

"Welcome home, Logan," said Xavier gently.

"What the hell is this?!" Logan exploded, pointing an angry finger at Victor. 

"That is Sabretooth, Logan."

"No shit, Sherlock!  What's he doing here?"  Scott stepped to the professor's shoulder.

"Sabretooth was badly wounded by Phoenix during a battle a few weeks ago, and he was brought back to the mansion."

Logan's thin black eyebrow went up.  "Since when have you people taken in the enemy like this was a fucking B&B?"

"Sabretooth has assured us he has a desire to be rehabilitated," said Xavier in the same soothing tone.  "I scanned his mind upon his incarceration and found that he is being truthful.  The holding cell is merely a safety measure until I can help him control his bloodlust."

"Sure," said Logan.  "And Toronto will play a hockey game in Hell." 

"Don't believe me, runt?" Victor rumbled from just over her shoulder.  Logan took a disdainful step away. 

"You are all idiots," she said succinctly, and stormed back the way she had come.  The curious onlookers parted quickly before her. 

"All right everyone, show's over," said Scott briskly.  "Go back upstairs."  He turned to Xavier.  "She's going to make trouble over this."

"When has she not?" said Xavier.  Scott's mouth quirked. 

"The runt doesn't bother me," said Victor from behind the field.  "In fact I kinda like havin' her around." 

"Nobody asked you," snapped Scott.  He turned on his heel and followed Logan's direction. 

"Please make an effort to get along," said Xavier to Victor.  Victor smiled.

"Ya know me, Prof.  I can play nice when I have to."

"I'll hold you to that."  Xavier wheeled away.

 

Logan was ripping dirty clothes out of her bag and slamming them vengefully into her laundry basket, still seething about her confrontation with Creed and his presence in the mansion.  His smell was everywhere, invading every corner, and she could hear his sardonic chuckle even though he was locked deep in the bowels of the mansion.  Was Xavier insane?  Victor was psychotic, a killer who could never be redeemed, and every person in the mansion was in danger while he was here. 

There was a tap on her door.  Logan flung it wide. 

"What!"

Tabitha Smith stepped back. She'd heard stories about Logan's anger, and she didn't feel like being too close to her if she was in one of her "moods." "Um, I wanted to talk to you about Victor."

Logan crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. "What about him."

"He really is trying to be good. He told me he doesn't want to hurt anybody anymore. He feels so bad about everything he's done."

Logan sighed. "Look, kid, I'm sure he seems really nice to you, but let me tell you now—for your own good—that that man is nothing but a homicidal maniac. He'll only let you close so it'll be easier for him to rip out your throat when he's ready to."

"He said you'd say that. But really, he's a changed man."

Logan suddenly had the same feeling she got whenever there was someone at the door trying to convert her to a new religion. "I know Victor Creed. I know how his mind works. You don't. So just run along and play with your dollies."

"Look, you don't know me! I'm not just some immature kid! I've been through all kinds of stuff!"

Logan sneered. "You have no idea what it is to be though 'stuff,' Boom Boom. Get the hell off my welcome mat."

"You don't have one…"

"Exactly." Logan slammed the door in her face and flopped back on the bed.

 

Chapter 2.

When the truth is found to be lies

And all the joy within you dies

Don't you want somebody to love, don't you

Need somebody to love, wouldn't you

Love somebody to love, you better

Find somebody to love

When the garden flowers baby are dead, yes and

Your mind, your mind is so full of bread

Don't you want somebody to love, don't you

Need somebody to love, wouldn't you

Love somebody to love, you better

Find somebody to love

Your eyes, I say your eyes may look like his

Yeah, but in your head, baby, 

I'm afraid you don't know where it is

Don't you want somebody to love, don't you

Need somebody to love, wouldn't you

Love somebody to love, you better

Find somebody to love

Tears are running down and down and down your breast

And your friends, baby

They treat you like a guest

Don't you want somebody to love, don't you

 Need somebody to love, wouldn't you

Love somebody to love, you better

Find somebody to love

Undisclosed Location

Late 1960s  

"I think you'll be very happy with our little unit, Ms. Logan," said General Chasen as he walked ahead of her down a plain metal hallway.  They could have been in any government installation, anywhere in the world but Logan's enhanced senses told her they were deep underground.  

"I guess we'll see," was all she said.

"You're working with four of our top men," said Chasen.  "All exemplary service records like yours—on or off the record."

Logan wasn't surprised this new covert team Chasen was auditioning her for had at least one black-book agent among them.  She just hoped he wasn't a psycho.  

She scanned the room, her eyes going slowly from person to person as she tried to size up her new teammates. 

Her eyes stopped on one for a moment. He was her type—other than the "just breathing" variety that she often found herself falling in with. He pulled his long black hair back in his hand, revealing his handsome features.

"Already got your sights set on the team pretty boy, eh frail?"

Logan jumped. No one could sneak up on her. She turned around slowly. "Who are you?"

The tall, blond man grinned. "They call me Sabretooth."

There was something unsettling about him, something Logan couldn't quite put her finger on. She wasn't sure if she should threaten his life or put a move on him. "They call me Wolverine."

"Aren't those little snarly things that run around the Canadian wilderness?"

Logan glared at him. "They can rip a man apart."

Sabretooth gave her a look that made her take a step back. "So can I, frail. So can I."

 

A week later they were called into a "team meeting" with Chasen and their field leader John Wraith.  Logan could tell Wraith had taken great pains to appear one of them, but he gave off an obsequious air unique to what Logan and her cohorts in Korea had contemptuously called "company men."  They were not to be trusted, just tolerated. 

"Welcome to Team X," Wraith began.  "This is a covert, top-secret black-bag group that will be carrying out highly sensitive missions vital to our nation's freedom.  Because of this, you will all observe strict security procedures.  This includes revealing no personal information to one another.  You will use code names for communication.  Please go around and introduce yourselves."

"What the fuck is this, first grade?" said Sabretooth sarcastically.

"Stow that talk or you'll be on a fast boat out of here," snarled Wraith, his handsome face suddenly contorting.  Sabretooth looked like he was going to fight back for a moment, but then he sprawled back in his chair like an indolent lion.

"Sabretooth," he said, grinning at Logan, something he did whenever she was in view.  It was really beginning to bother her.

"Silver Fox," said the handsome man Logan had noticed the first day. 

The blond man next to Silver Fox shifted in his chair.  He always seemed to have trouble sitting still.  "Maverick," he said in a German-accented voice.  Logan guessed he was a spy on loan from West Germany.

"Wolverine," she said quietly.  Sabretooth snorted. 

"Now that that's out of the way," said Wraith, "we will be running a training sim at 0600 tomorrow morning, then pairing you off into teams.  Assignments are already backing up."  He looked at Chasen, who nodded.  "Team dismissed."

"I've never worked with a woman before."

Logan looked up at Silver Fox, who had caught up with her in the hall leading away from the meeting room. "There's a first time for everything, bub."

Silver Fox grinned at her. "So how does a pretty girl like you get mixed up in an operation like this?"

Logan returned the smile. "The guy in the cowboy hat said no personal information."

Silver Fox smirked. "I guess that means you'll tell me no if I ask you out for a drink?"

"Well…"

Logan stopped when she felt something hit her shoulder. She looked behind her to see Sabretooth, one arm draped around her and the other around Silver Fox, as if the three of them were old friends. She pulled away angrily. "What the hell do you want?"

"Just makin' sure the two of you weren't exchanging any personal information. Wouldn't want anything to compromise the team."

Silver Fox stepped away, glaring up at Sabretooth. "I don't believe we were having a conversation that concerned you."

Sabretooth smirked. "But all Team X business concerns me. You can't be having secrets with just one other teammate now—there's no 'I' in team." He walked away, laughing to himself.

Logan glared at Sabretooth's back. "I don't like working with him. He gives off this creepy homicidal vibe."

"Most people like us do," Silver Fox said.

Logan smiled at Silver Fox. "You don't."

"So what about that drink?"

She glanced around, making sure there was no one there to hear her. "What they don't know won't hurt them."

 

The sun was barely over the tops of the evergreens, but Logan relished the cool air flowing through her lungs as she ran at top speed through the forest.  Loaded down with a gear belt and an M-16, any normal soldier would be hard pressed to keep up the flat-out sprint Logan was doing, but she enjoyed the feeling of her muscles burning and her heart pounding to keep up with her. 

The training sim was a 6-mile obstacle course over rough, hilly terrain, complete with trap pits, a river crossing and simulated enemy fire.  The hard rubber bullets stung, but Logan let them hit her—it was faster that dodging the gun turrets.  She knew she had beaten Silver Fox and Maverick, having long since left their scents behind, but Sabretooth she wasn't sure about.  He had slipped away into the trees as soon as the sounding gun had started. 

She could see the finish line just ahead, Chasen and Wraith standing there ready to clock their times. She'd be there in just a few more seconds, putting her ahead of the rest of the team.

Suddenly, Sabretooth strolled out of the woods right in front of her, walking as if he had all the time in the world. Logan ran past the finish line right after him, doubling over and trying to catch her breath.

"Moving a little slow there, runt?"

Logan glared up at him, wishing Chasen and Wraith were somewhere else so she could show Sabretooth just how frail she wasn't. "How'd you get here so quickly," she asked. "And without a mark on you?"

"Found a shortcut."

Wraith walked over to Sabretooth and Wolverine, handing them both a folder. "While the other boys take their sweet time getting down here, why don't you two suit up and go on your first mission."

"Why don't I just go on my own?" Sabretooth asked. "Better than bein' slowed down by female baggage."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "If anyone would be a liability it would be you, psycho."

Sabretooth just looked at her and laughed.

Wraith gave them both a stern look. "This is counterproductive. Suit up and move out before I fire you both and find someone who's more of a team player."

Sabretooth and Wolverine both continued to glare at each other, but said nothing.

 

Logan didn't know what time it was, or even what day, but it was pitch black when the Bell helicopter finally set down on the tiny pad outside the Team X compound.  Logan stumbled off the chopper, fighting to keep her eyes open.  She'd lost count of how many hours straight she'd been awake.  Sabretooth followed her, letting his gear pack drop heavily on the tarmac. 

"After a mission like that I could use a hot bath and a woman."  Logan just rolled her eyes.

"Who were those people?"

"Who gives a flyin' fuck?"

"Guess you're right…that report was pretty sketchy.  Nice how they forgot to mention the fifteen armed guards."

"They didn't forget, frail.  It was a test."  Logan looked back at him as the chopper lifted off.  It blew his long blond hair around his face, almost obscuring it.

"I don't like tests."

"Well, get used to it."  He walked past Logan, clapping a hand briefly on her shoulder.  "Ya backed me up and ya didn't wimp out.  Nice job."

"I'm not your backup!" Logan called after him.  He turned and gave her a wink over his shoulder.

"Whatever ya say, frail."

Logan couldn't help but look around the room one more time to make sure there wasn't anyone there who might recognize them.

"Wolverine, I told you, this place is remote. No one's going to look for us here. Just relax."

"We could get in trouble with the big wigs for this one."

Silver Fox grinned. "And I thought you were the kind of girl who liked trouble."

"What gave you that idea?"

"Probably the fact that you're here in the first place."

Logan winked at him as she walked up to the bar. "You got Molson's in this place."

The bartender gave her a toothless grin. "Sure do, ma'am." He grabbed a bottle from behind the bar and popped it open, sliding it down to Logan.

"Thanks."

"And fer the gentleman?"

"Water."

Logan gave him a funny look. Who the hell went into a bar and ordered water?

"Yeah, we got that," the bartender said, his own look echoing Logan's.

Logan and Silver Fox went back to a booth, hidden from the other patrons in the bar. Not than any of them were paying them much attention anyway.

"So what's your real name?" Silver Fox asked.

"Doesn't that count as 'personal information?'" Logan said teasingly.

"I'll tell you mine."

"What is it?"

"Silver Fox."

Logan gave him a funny look. "That's your codename…"

"Yeah, I told them my real name was something else."

Logan smirked. "My name's Logan."

"Isn't that a boy's name."

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing, I guess. You have any name besides Logan."

"No. That's it. Take it or leave it."

Silver Fox reached over and stroked her cheek. "You make the name beautiful."

Logan smiled politely, but honestly she didn't want to be in that bar, drinking beer and making small talk. She didn't want the preliminaries—she wanted the main event. She'd been worked up ever since her mission with Sabretooth. She leaned forward across the booth, making sure Silver Fox could get a good look down her shirt. "I think I saw a hotel a few miles back up the road. Wanna go check it out."

Silver Fox raised an eyebrow. "Well, I…I'm not used to women being so forward."

Logan winked. "Does it bother you?"

"Um, no, I guess," he said, grabbing his wallet from his pocket to pay their tab. He threw the money table and took her hand, leading her out of the bar.

Logan wished the car could go faster the whole way to the hotel. She'd been locked up in that Team X compound for too long.

Silver Fox looked nervously around the small hotel room. He turned to Logan, trying to think of something romantic to say. "I…"

"Just shut up and kiss me," Logan said, pushing him onto the bed.

Silver Fox's eyes grew wide as he fell backwards, but he soon decided to just go with the flow.

After all, it promised to be an interesting night.

 

"And just where the hell have you been?"  Logan turned to see Wraith standing behind her, arms crossed.  She hated have a boss who was a teleporter.  It made sneaking around ten times harder.

"Out," she said, deciding not to lie.  Not totally, anyway.

"There are strict directives about leaving the compound, Wolverine.  I'm afraid I'll have to call the general."

"Aw, don't get yer panties in a bunch, John," said Sabretooth's gravelly voice from behind her.  "She was with me."  Logan turned, her mouth opening.

Sabretooth was clad only in an undershirt and sweatpants, looking as if he'd spent the night rolling around in a hayloft.  For all Logan knew he might have. 

"What are you saying?" demanded Wraith. 

"We were downstairs in the rec room playin' poker," said Sabretooth.  "Ya know," he leaned in towards the shorter man.  "Special poker."  Logan felt heat creep up her cheeks and she opened her mouth to protest.  Sabretooth's index talon poked her in the small of the back.  "Shut up, runt," he muttered so only she could hear.

"Fine, but next time you don't check in by lights out you'll be disciplined, Wolverine."  He turned and went into his office.  Logan looked up a Sabretooth.

"Uh, thanks…" she started.

"Aw, Christ, don't get all sentimental," scoffed Sabretooth.  "Now ya owe me.  If I need ya to cover my ass some night ya better be there."  He shuffled off barefoot towards the kitchen.  Logan blinked tired eyes and went to her room to sleep.

Chapter 3.

Didn’t I make you feel like you were the only man, yeah
Didn’t I give you nearly everything that a woman possibly can ?
Honey, you know I did!
And each time I tell myself that I, well I think I’ve had enough
But I’m gonna show you, baby, that a woman can be tough

I want you to come on, come on, come on, come on and take it
Take it!
Take another little piece of my heart now, baby
Oh, oh, break it!
Break another little bit of my heart now, darling, yeah, yeah, yeah
Oh, oh, have a!
Have another little piece of my heart now, baby
You know you got it if it makes you feel good
Oh, yes indeed

You’re out on the streets looking good
And baby deep down in your heart I guess you know that it ain’t right
Never, never, never, never, never, never hear me when I cry at night
Babe, I cry all the time!
And each time I tell myself that I, well I can’t stand the pain
But when you hold me in your arms, I’ll sing it once again

I’ll say come on, come on, come on, come on and take it
Take it!
Take another little piece of my heart now, baby
Oh, oh, break it!
Break another little bit of my heart now, darling, yeah
Oh, oh, have a!
Have another little piece of my heart now, baby
You know you got it child, if it makes you feel good

I need you to come on, come on, come on, come on and take it
Take it!
Take another little piece of my heart now, baby!
Oh, oh, break it!
Break another little bit of my heart, now darling, yeah, c’mon now
Oh, oh, have a
Have another little piece of my heart now, baby
You know you got it

Take it!
Take it, take another little piece of my heart now, baby,
Oh, oh, break it!
Break another little bit of my heart, now darling, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
Oh, oh, have a
Have another little piece of my heart now, baby, hey
You know you got it, child, if it makes you feel good

"So Silver Fox, is she as good as she looks?"

Victor froze in the shower. This was something he didn't want to hear. He didn't know why he should care who was banging Wolverine, since it was obvious the woman wasn't exactly chaste to begin with, but he didn't like the idea that Silver Fox was probably about to brag.

"Better, Maverick," Silver Fox replied with a grin, rinsing shampoo out of his long black hair. "She does this thing with her tongue…"

"That's enough, Fox," Sabretooth growled, snatching a towel as he stalked out of the shower. "The last thing I want is a mental image of that scrawny runt naked."

Silver Fox sneered, getting out of the shower himself. "Are you sure it's not just a little jealousy? After all, you and Wolverine seem to have gotten awfully close these past couple months."

Sabretooth roared, grabbing Silver Fox by his throat and slamming him into the wall. "We're just partners, ya little fuck."

Silver Fox rubbed his neck as Sabretooth dropped him back to the ground. "Yeah, just partners."

Sabretooth snarled before storming out of the locker room, unphased by his state of undress.

Maverick looked down at Silver Fox and frowned.

"I'm sorry I brought it up."

 

Logan looked over at Sabretooth as he sharpened his claws on the edge of a bowie knife. "Everything okay with you?"

He shot her a dirty look. "Peachy."

She lifted a box of guns and ammo into the truck, then went over to where Sabretooth was sitting. "Well, I know it isn't a lack of good sex. This heightened sense of hearing isn't much of a blessing when you live next to you, Casanova."

Sabretooth rolled his eyes. "Like you should talk. A few times I've wondered if maybe I should run over there and make sure your little boyfriend ain't killin' ya, the way you scream."

Logan gave him a dirty look. "Pervert."

"You started it, runt."

Logan decided it was time for a change of topic. "So it looks like we're paired up again for a mission."

"Yeah, they seem to like to do that." He grinned. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say we were full-fledged partners."

Logan smirked. "I guess I can think of worse people to work with."

 

In the belly of the B-52, Logan and Sabretooth sat in silence.  Sabretooth claimed that talking before missions made him edgy and Logan had a lot on her mind.  The hours-long flight could only mean one destination, a tiny war-torn peninsula halfway around the world.  It always felt like she was leaving a part of her behind when she went into the jungle, like part of her still lingered with Silver Fox back in the mountain compound. 

She didn't like the feeling…it wasn't longing for a lost love, it was more like a nervous twinge in the back of her head.  She couldn't focus, and that was dangerous in combat.  Sabretooth was counting on her.

Sabretooth glanced over at Wolverine. He wondered what she was thinking, if she was nervous about the mission, or if she was thinking about the kind of greeting she'd give that pretty boy of hers when they got home.

He stopped short. What was he doing? Since when did he give a damn about what anyone else was thinking?

He wanted the damn contraption they were stuck in just to land so he could kill something. It had been too long since he'd gotten to sink his claws into someone.

If he was honest with himself, he'd admit that when the time came to kill again, all his victims would bear Silver Fox's face.

 

Logan's heart thudded against her ribs as she tore through the jungle, bullets ripping the foliage to shreds all around her.  She swung around and returned fire with her M-16, screaming over the gunfire to the running man behind her.  "Sabretooth, MOVE IT!"  She cursed him silently—he always had to stay as long as he could at the site of the kill, make sure every last target was nothing more than a bloody smear.  It was that insatiable urge of his that had made them moving targets for a 35-strong unit of Viet Cong guerilla soldiers, now chasing them through the dense, muggy jungle towards their rendezvous point. 

Logan tumbled out of the trees as Team X's Chinook set down in a small clearing, blades kicking up leaves and dust.  She turned as she swung into the cargo hold, making sure Sabretooth was still behind her.  He was almost in the chopper when a blast of automatic fire slammed into his back, spraying Logan's tank top with blood and bone.  Sabretooth grunted and pitched forward, managing to grab a hold of the lip of the cargo bay as the chopper lifted off unevenly.  Logan grabbed his arm and hauled him inside, leaving a bloody smear across the steel floor. 

Sabretooth ripped off what was left of his shirt, letting the bullets fall from his skin to the floor of the chopper. He looked over at Logan, his usual grin shifting to something other than psychotic. "Y'know, runt, fighting beside you is almost better than sex."

Logan looked at him in disbelief. "I can't believe you just said that."

"You know it's true, darlin'."

"I am not your darlin'," Logan growled, wiping away the blood that was dripping in her eyes.

Sabretooth blinked. "Hey, that's a lot of blood there," he said, changing the subject. "You all right?"

"Most of it's yours."

"Ah. Well, that's good."

Logan sat back against the wall, staring forward. Sabretooth sat beside her. She looked at over him, realizing just how close she'd gotten to him in the past few months that she'd been with Team X. They'd fought side by side, put their lives in each others hands, and she didn't even know his name. She voiced the thought aloud, asking him, but still staring forward.

"Victor," he replied, also staring forward. "Victor Creed."

"Logan."

"Nice t'meet ya," Sabretooth said, patting her leg.

"You, too." Logan realized suddenly how good he smelled.

She scooted away.

 

Logan was glad once they got back to the base. She'd had enough blood and jungle for one day.

She leaned down, picking up her pack. Victor stood behind her, smirking. Logan turned around, glaring at Sabretooth. "What are you looking at?"

"Yer ass."

Logan rolled her eyes. "You have issues."

"Tell me about it."

She started to walk away, but Victor grabbed her arm. "Hey."

"What?"

He ran his fingers through her hair, combing his talons through the long, black strands. "Hey."

"You already said that."

"Yeah. Um, I…" For once, Sabretooth couldn't think of anything to say, sarcastic or otherwise. He felt Logan tremble beneath his hand, and he moved closer, his lips almost touching hers.

"Wolverine!"

Logan jumped back at Silver Fox's voice and the pounding on the hull of the helicopter. She glanced back at Victor, but he'd already pulled away.

She walked out into Silver Fox's waiting arms. He grabbed her and spun her around, kissing her passionately. "I missed you, baby."

"I missed you, too."

"You two loverbirds better be careful. Someone might see that who you don't want to."

Logan glanced over at Victor, who nodded at her before walking out.

She couldn't figure out why being with Silver Fox suddenly made her feel guilty.

 

CHAPTER 4.

I am watching the rise and fall of my salvation
There's so much shit around me
Such a lack of compassion
I thought it would be fun and games (would be
fun and games)
Instead it's all the same (it's all the same)
I want something to do
Need to feel the sickness in you

I feel the reason as it's leaving me, no, not again
Its quite deceiving as I'm feeling the flesh made
me bad

All I wanna do it look for you
And when I fix, you needed to
Just to get some sort of attention, attention

What does it mean to you?
For me its something I just do
I want something
I need to feel the sickness in you

I feel the reason as it's leaving me, no, not again
Its quite deceiving as I'm feeling the flesh made
me bad
 
Just made me bad

"Victor?"  Tabitha stared into the darkness of his cell.  She saw his huge form stir and come forward.

"Whatcha got for me, Tabby?  Roast beef?"  Tabitha nodded and passed the large sub through the food slot. 

"Extra meat, just like you ordered."

"Beautiful."  He took the sub in both hands and proceeded to consume it in three bites.  "Sure beats the crap the X-geeks've been feedin' me."

"Hey, I'm one of those 'X-geeks'."  He chuckled low in his throat. 

"I've been around 'em enough to know they never let small fry like you go inta battle, Tabby.  Betcha that burns ya up, huh?"

Tabitha held her head up high. "That isn't true. I'm as tough as any of the X-Men?"

"Then why they have ya babysittin' me instead of playin' with the big kids?"

"They don't make me come down here, Victor. I liked to. I like talking to you."

"Do ya now? And why's that?"

Tabitha blushed a little. "I don't know. I just…I just do."

Victor smirked. He had her right where he wanted her. "I like you, too, you know."

Tabitha brightened a little. "You do?"

"Yeah." Victor signed.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just hard, being in this cage all the time. I want to prove to them that I can be something other than a killer, but they won't give me a chance."

"Logan really hates you. Why is that?"

"I don't know," Victor said, doing his best to look sad. "We used to really mean something to each other, but she just threw it all away for no reason."

Tabitha looked almost like she was about to cry. "That's so sad."

"It's one of the reasons why I hurt so much inside."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"  Tabby's huge blue eyes were eager to please, and Victor smiled in what he hoped was a winning manner as he reeled her in for the kill. 

"Ya could let me go for a walk."

"A walk?"

"Yeah. A man like me needs fresh air, not a dark, cold cell. This place might end up making me worse, not better." He gave her his best attempt at puppy-dog eyes.

Tabitha didn't hesitate at pressing the code to deactivate the force field. Victor smiled stretching his limbs. "That feels nice. Thanks there, Tabby Cat." He grinned his trademark psychotic grin right before he smacked Tabitha into the wall.

Tabitha saw bright lights explode across her vision as her head impacted with the steel wall.  She slid to the floor, feeling it vibrate as Victor strolled out of the holding area and down the hall.  Tabitha's thin arm reached upwards, feeling for the comm. button.  "Logan…help…" she gasped before passing out.

Upstairs in the living room, Logan had been quietly reading, trying to ignore Bobby and Kitty fighting over MTV vs. A&E.  She was the only one to hear Tabitha's gasp from the small speaker in the corner of the room, and she knew instantly where the emergency had occurred.

The collected works of Shakespeare landed on the floor behind her as Logan raced for the holding cells. 

Victor was hoping he could make it out of the mansion without a fuss, but no sooner had he reached the elevator than the obnoxious alarm klaxons began to sound.  He guessed he hadn’t hit Tabitha as hard as he thought.  He stood patiently in front of the elevator and waited for the costumed freaks to pour out.

He was surprised to see only Logan, dressed in tight jeans and a t-shirt.  She had her claws out, and the stark, hateful look she seemed to only wear around him.  "I knew it," she hissed.  Victor spread his arms.

"Ya got me, darlin'.  Take me in."  He smiled, inviting her to a fight.  Logan reached behind her and hit a switch in the elevator.  The door slid shut and a red light went on above the car.

"I am not," said Logan slowly, "your darlin'."  She took a step towards him—if she had been his height they would have been nose to nose.  "Now I'm gonna finish something that should have ended a long time ago."

Kitty and Bobby ran to the elevator, Bobby pushed the down button several times. "What the heck is wrong with this thing?"

Kitty pointed up. "Um, the elevators are offline."

"At a time like this? What are the odds?"

Kitty looked at him like he was an idiot. "Pretty high considering Logan probably shut them off."

"Oh. Yeah, well, that makes sense."

"We're the only other ones in the mansion, aren't we?"

Bobby turned pale. "There's no one to protect us from the homicidal maniacs?"

Kitty rolled her eyes. "Come on, we can't get down there and do something about this, but at least we can monitor what's going on from the camera room. Maybe we can get a hold of Scott, too."

Logan slowly advanced on Victor, who surprisingly took a step back to match her.  Logan realized after a moment he was drawing her into the wide hallway that ran outside the Danger Room—a dead end, with no exits.  The perfect place for a battle to the death.

Logan didn't waste time—she launched herself at Victor, intent on cutting him to pieces.  He sidestepped her and she felt his talons rip across her back.  Because of her speed against his superior reach, they were usually perfectly matched, but Logan knew her anger was getting the better of her in this case—that had been an easy hit. 

Victor roared as she spun and jammed her claws into his side up to the hilt, feeling flesh rend and ribs crack under her assault.  She followed up by slamming her knee into his kidneys, hearing a refreshing clank and a moan of pain from her opponent. 

Bouts with Victor could go on for hours, until one or both of them had lost too much blood to stay upright, but this one ended as suddenly as it had begun, with Logan gaining the upper hand.  She slammed Victor into a steel wall with a knee to the gut, holding him there with a claw on either side of his face.  Panting, she stared into his eyes, almost black from rage and pain. 

"I win," she ground out. 

"Guess you do," he panted.  "Ain't ya gonna finish the job?"

"You're going to a real prison this time, Creed—a black hole in the Vault for the rest of your life."

He started to laugh, his bloody chest shaking droplets onto Logan.  "That's the best ya can do, runt?  Threaten me with a little kitten growl? If you were really as tough as you let on, you'd have that last claw out."  Logan's eyes narrowed.

"Don't tempt me."

"No one's stoppin' ya."  Logan growled again.

"I won't give you the satisfaction."

"I dare ya."

"Shut up!"

"C'mon runt, do it!"  Victor wrapped his huge hand around the wrist Logan held to his throat.  "Do it."

"I'm not like you!"

"That's a laugh.  We're two sides of the same coin, Logan.  We're the same."  His grip could have crushed normal bone. "Do it!"

Logan gritted her teeth, feeling the red rage bubbling to the surface and fighting to keep it at bay.

"Do it!"

She couldn't…it would make her no better than the murderer in front of her.

"Do it!"  He bared his fangs into her face.  "Silver Fox woulda killed me, runt."

Logan let out a sound of pure rage.  Victor smiled.  "That's the spirit runt!  Do it!"

"I hate you!" Logan screamed.

"Then do it!"

SNIKT! 

 

Chapter 5.

At my door the leaves are falling
A cold wild wind has come
Sweethearts walk by together
And I still miss someone

I go out on a party
And look for a little fun
But I find a darkened corner
because I still miss someone

Oh, no I never got over those blues eyes
I see them every where
I miss those arms that held me
When all the love was there

I wonder if she's sorry
For leavin' what we'd begun
There's someone for me somewhere
And I still miss someone

 

"I don't want you going on that mission next week with Sabretooth."

Logan rolled over, looking at the man lying beside her in the bed. "Why not?"

"Because whenever you go on a mission without the whole team, you go with him."

"Well, he is my partner."

Silver Fox took a deep breath. "I should be your partner."

"You're my lover. It's a different thing."

"Well it shouldn't be! You have a connection with him that you don't have with me."

Logan sighed. "We kill people together. I don't think you can exactly call that a 'connection.'"

"But you have that mutant thing, too—with the sniffing."

"Sniffing?!"

"Yeah. And the healing."

"Where is this going?"

"I think you should ask Wraith for different assignments—ones that don't always involve him."

"No fucking way!"

"Why not?"

"Because we work well together! I'm not going to compromise the team over your petty jealousy!"

"It isn't petty! For all I know you're fucking him behind my back."

Logan jumped out of the bed, grabbing her clothes and putting them on haphazardly. "I can't believe you'd accuse me of that," she snapped.

"It's a valid concern, Logan. How many men were there before me?"

"You're being a dick."

"How many?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does."

Logan threw her arms up in the air. "Why are you suddenly being so possessive?"

"I just want to know what kind of woman I'm dealing with."

Logan glared at him. "How many women for you?"

He met her eyes. "Three."

She blanched. "That's it?"

"I don't take these things lightly."

"Are you implying that I take us lightly?"

Silver Fox sighed. "I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I'm just sex to you."

"Then why do I keep coming back, huh?"

"Because you can't have Sabretooth?"

"Drop it with him! Dammit, why do you do this? Why can't you just live in the day, accept what it is that we have for what it is?"

"Because I want a life past this! I want a wife—a mother for my children—not a woman who falls into bed with every man she can get her claws into."

Logan turned around, slamming the door behind her.

Wraith was in the hallway. She glared at him. "I'm fucking him. Got a problem with that?" Wraith started to say something, but decided against it. Logan stormed down to her room, slamming the door behind her.

She fell on her own bed, unable to stop the tears from coming. What if Silver Fox was right? What if she was that kind of woman? She didn't want to be. Even with all her lovers, she wanted something more than one-night stands.

"Ya in there, runt?"

Logan groaned. That's just what she needed, him seeing her like this. "Go away, Sabretooth."

Victor came in anyway. "You know, if you want people to stay out, you should really try locking your door."

"Fuck off."

"No." He sat down beside her on the bed. "What did he say to you?"

"None of your goddam business."

"Want me to smack him around?"

"No." She paused for a moment. "But thanks."

She sat up, her eyes still red and puffy. Victor froze. He didn't know how to handle a woman when she cried. "Uh, you need a hug or something?"

The idea of Sabretooth offering her a hug was so absurd that Logan had to laugh. "I think I'm okay."

"The offer to smack him around still stands."

"I know."

Victor took a deep breath. He was out of his element. Women were for sex, not consoling. He looked over at her. She was disheveled, and her face was splotchy from tears. "You're beautiful."

Logan's head snapped up, and he realized he'd said that out loud. Victor's eyes grew wide. "I…um…I…"

Logan laughed. "I look like shit."

"Nah, you don't. I've woken up next to women much less attractive." Logan glared. "Um, that came out wrong."

"I've never seen this side of you before, Victor. You're almost sweet."

He looked offended. "Sweet! Ha! I'm just trying to charm you outta those tight pants of yours."

Logan rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

"It's what makes you want me so much."

"I do not want you!"

"Oh yeah?" Victor grabbed her, pulling her into a crushing kiss. Logan grabbed his hair, kissing him back harder. He pushed her back on the bed, his hands roaming her body freely.

Logan moaned, her body responding almost on instinct. She wanted him more than she had wanted anyone in a long time. But she couldn't. Silver Fox…

She pressed on Victor's chest. "No."

That was the one word he didn't want to hear. From her, it meant something. She was his partner. "He isn't good enough for you."

Logan looked away. "He's too good for me."

Victor got up, knowing he had to leave before he did what every bit of him was screaming to do. "A false sense of honor doesn't make you worthy, darlin'."

When Victor left, Logan began to cry again.

 

"Logan?" Silver Fox entered her room long after lights out."  Logan had been staring at her wall for hours, wide awake.

"Go away."

"I will…I just need to, well, apologize."  Logan rolled over.

"What?"

"I was…uh…well…"

"A jerkoff," Logan mumbled.

"For lack of a better word."

"I didn't meant to imply that…"

Logan sat up. "That what? That I'm no better than a common whore?"

Silver Fox turned red. "No, I didn't mean that." He knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in his. "Logan, I didn't mean what I said. I'm just, well, insecure. You seem to share something with Sabretooth that you don't have with me. I don't want to lose you, Logan." He looked into her eyes. "I love you."

Logan started. "No man's ever told me that before."

"It's the truth. You mean so much to me. Look, I have a cabin up north. We both have some leave time coming up. Let's take it together, spend some time as I real couple. I want to show you what you mean to me."

Logan smiled. "I'd like that."

"Good." Silver Fox stood up and kissed her forehead. "You get some rest. You look like you could use it. I'll see you in the morning."

"Silver Fox?" Logan said softly.

He turned in the doorway. "Yes?"

"I…I love you, too."

He smiled before leaving her alone.

 

The next morning Logan was packing a jeep with camping supplies when she smelled a presence behind her.  "Hey, Victor." 

 "Don't go with him."

She didn't look at him. "Why? Because I almost had sex with you? That was a mistake, a vulnerable moment."

"No. Don't go with him because he's an asshole. Look, I know I may not be the best guy in the world, but…"

Logan turned around. "Don't, Creed. You and I, we'd don't work like that. We can kill together, fine, but I know how to be something more than an animal from time to time."

Victor narrowed his eyes. "You know, maybe I was wrong. Maybe you are the kinda bitch that prick needs."

"Fuck you, Creed."

"Yeah, fuck you, Logan." He started to leave, but then turn back around. "You're a lot more fragile than you let on, runt. You aren't unbreakable, and he's going to be the one to break you. But when he does, don't come cryin' to me. I don't give a flyin' fuck about what happens to you." He sneered. "Animals don't care about partners or anyone else."

"Well I guess we're about equal then, since I don't care about you either!" Logan yelled.

Victor just rolled his eyes. "Have fun fucking his brains out this weekend. Hope for your sake he's still there in the morning to start building the white picket fence."

"At least he could give me a life, a family. You never could."

"Yeah, who would really want to." Victor walked away as Logan angrily stuffed the last of the supplies in the jeep.

 

Logan lay curled up next to Silver Fox as she watched the dying embers of the fire. She sighed happily, relishing the one moment of peace in her life.

Silver Fox kissed the top of her head. "The fire's dying, baby."

She sat up. "I'll get some more firewood."

"No, let me, baby. I'm the man after all."

Logan kissed him. "Don't be silly. You got it last time. It's my turn."

Silver Fox knew there was no point in arguing with her. "All right, but hurry back. I'll worry about you if you're gone too long. It's dangerous out there, you know."

"I'm a big girl, I can get firewood and come back in one piece."

Silver Fox gave her hands a light squeeze. "I know, but I still worry about my baby."

She kissed him. "I'll be home soon. I love you."

"I love you, too."

 

In the Team X compound, Victor restlessly stalked the halls, playing his last conversation with Logan over and over in his head.  How dare she treat him like that?  Hadn't he proven he was capable of being more than a vicious predator?

Victor wondered why he even cared, but the answer was obvious.  There was no denying his desire for Logan went way beyond a partnership.  Victor let out a growl and ran his sharp talons along the cement walls, flaking off paint.  He could have any woman, anywhere and yet the one that was right in front of him was unreachable.  Wasn't that just his rotten luck.

He ended up in the rec area.  The compound was deathly silent—Maverick was off somewhere cleaning his guns, and Wraith and Chasen had gone home.  Unlike the Team X operatives, they could actually go somewhere other than this rabbit hole. 

So what's stoppin' you, Creed? he said to himself.  He should just go out, find a couple hookers and fuck Logan off his mind.  He sighed as he paced.  It wasn't that simple…he didn't want some sixteen year old who looked like her, he wanted her.  Her smell, her face, her skin under his hands. 

Victor let out a snarl of frustration and swept an abandoned game of checkers off the rec table.  His eyes lit on the small liquor cabinet in the corner—just enough booze to allow the team to relax, but not enough to get them into trouble.  Victor yanked open the doors and gathered up the bottles.  It wasn't enough to overcome his healing factor, but it was a start.  If he could numb himself enough, he could forget about Logan for tonight.

 

Logan brought the axe down hard into the block of wood. She'd been enjoying her time alone with Silver Fox, but she couldn't get her mind completely off Victor. She thought about what she'd said to him before she'd left and felt guilty. She hadn't had any room at all to call him an animal. He wasn't any less human than she was herself.

She set the axe down for a moment, wiping her hair away from her face. What did she want in life anyway? She loved Silver Fox. He gave her a sense of stability that no other man ever had before.

But Victor… She couldn't deny her attraction to him, no matter how hard she tried. Silver Fox had been right in one respect—there was a connection with Victor that she didn't have with him. But what was that connection? Was it the type that led to something long-term, something real?

No, it couldn't be. Victor wouldn't love her the way Silver Fox did, and that's what she really needed.

She picked the axe back up and drove it through another block of wood.

 

The room swirled slowly around Victor as he let the last bottle drop out of his hands.  He had searched the entire compound until he'd found Chasen's private stash in his office.  More bottles of single-malt scotch than he could count, Victor was in a blurry area between reality and unconsciousness.

In this state, he was only mildly surprised when Chasen's office door swung open and a small, white rabbit stuck its head in.  It had large pink eyes and floppy ears. 

"How'd ya get in?" Victor slurred.  The rabbit hopped around his chair once, and then went back to the door, looking back at Victor as if to say, 'are you coming?'

 It suddenly became perfectly clear to Victor what the rabbit wanted.  What he wanted.  He had to go get Logan back, get her away from Silver Fox, make her his…any way he could.

 

Victor parked his jeep crookedly downwind of Silver Fox's cabin.  It hadn't been hard to find.  He sat in the perfect dark, aware that the rabbit was still with him.  Presently the cabin door swung open and he saw Logan go out, down a path away from him.  Victor watched her disappear into the tree line, then looked at his traveling companion.  "Whaddaya think?  Should we go in?"

The rabbit twitched its nose.  Victor took that as a yes.

Victor burst into the cabin, finding Silver Fox sitting in front of the fire. Silver Fox jumped up. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to get my woman," Victor growled.

"Who are you talking about?" Silver Fox asked. "Logan?"

"Damn straight." Victor lunged at Silver Fox, knocking him down and pinning him to the floor. "She should've been mine, pretty boy. She's my kinda woman—not yours."

"She's too good for the likes of you. Your kind of woman lives in a cave somewhere."

Victor roared, swiping his claws down on Silver Fox's face. Silver Fox screamed in pain, his vision blurred from the blood running into his eyes.  "You'll…you'll never have her…" he stuttered from between slashed lips.  "Even if you kill me, you can't have her."

"We'll see about that, punk."  Victor raised his claws and brought them down again and again, until the man once known as Silver Fox no longer looked like a man at all.

 

Logan was halfway back to the cabin when she heard Silver Fox scream.  She dropped the firewood and ran at a dead sprint back to the small dwelling. 

"Silver Fox?!"  Logan saw him as soon as she skidded to a stop in the doorway—or what was left of him.  "Oh dear god…" Logan's stomach bucked and she clapped a hand over her mouth.  Next to Silver Fox's flayed body she saw the form of Victor Creed, passed out face down on her floor but very much alive.  Hot tears began to gush from Logan's eyes, the scene before her simply too much to process. 

"Why…" she said from between her fingers.  "WHY!" she screamed at Victor's prone form.  But she was rooted to the spot, all her instincts that demanded she take revenge for her lover's death deserting her.  Logan turned and ran from the cabin, going anywhere where she wouldn't have to see any more. 

 

"Logan, I understand you've very upset by this whole affair," said General Chasen.  Behind him, a janitor was sweeping up broken glass from liquor bottles.  "But you have my personal assurance that every step will be taken to discipline the party available."  Logan barely looked up from her cupped hands in her lap.

"I want out."

"Team X was scheduled to disband at the end of six months anyway," said Chasen.  "However, you have proven yourself an asset time and time again.  If you are interested…"

"I just wanna go somewhere else, General."

"Department H is beginning a new mutant program, one which you would be ideal for.  Top secret.  Are you interested?"

"Would Sabretooth be involved?"

"Of course not," Chasen assured her.

"Then I'll do it."

Chasen grinned, a rare event. He leaned across the table, shaking Logan's hand. "Then welcome to the Weapon X Project."

 

Chapter 6.

Welcome to the jungle
We've got fun 'n' games
We got everything you want
Honey, we know the names
We are the people that can find
Whatever you may need
If you got the money, honey
We got your disease

In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your knees
I wanna watch you bleed

Welcome to the jungle
We take it day by day
If you want it you're gonna bleed
But it's the price you pay
And you're a very sexy girl
That's very hard to please
You can taste the bright lights
But you won't get them for free
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Feel my, my, my serpentine
 I wanna hear you scream

Welcome to the jungle
It gets worse here everyday
Ya learn ta live like an animal
In the jungle where we play
If you got a hunger for what you see
You'll take it eventually
You can have anything you want
But you better not take it from me

And when you're high you never
Ever want to come down, yeah

You know where you are
You're in the jungle baby
You're gonna die
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your knees
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Feel my, my, my serpentine
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your knees
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your
It's gonna bring you down!

 

Xavier rewound the tape and played it again, ignoring Logan as she winced at the scene. "I don't think I have to remind you that Victor Creed was here for rehabilitation—not a lobotomy."

"He was trying to escape!" Logan exclaimed. "He knocked Tabitha into a metal wall!"

Xavier wheeled around, meeting Logan's defiant gaze. "I understand the need to subdue him under the circumstances; however, your methods were…excessive. The fact that he is still alive is a miracle, although he will probably never be quite the same again."

"And this is a bad thing because…"

Xavier looked at her sternly. "Your blatant lack of remorse for your actions disturbs me. I thought we had made progress with you since your arrival here. You know Logan, when I first brought you to Westchester, you weren't much better than you claim that Sabretooth is."

Logan's nostrils flared. "Listen, Chuck, I was never like him. Yeah, I may have my demons, but I'm not a psychotic killer. I can play well with others when I have to."

"I have yet to see proof of that," Xavier said. "I have been debating what disciplinary actions to take following this event, and while your behavior makes me question your position on the X-Men, you are a valuable asset to the team. Being as such, I will allow you to remain part of the X-Men; however, for the next three months you are confined to the mansion. During that time, you will be expected to stand guard over Sabretooth—making sure no harm comes to him now that he is in a weakened state."

"WHAT!" Logan yelled. "You can't do that!"

"If you wish to remain a member of my team, you will do as I say."

Logan popped her claws, but then brought them back in just as quickly. "I understand, professor," she said through gritted teeth.

"Good. You are dismissed, Wolverine."

Logan stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her. She glared at the group of X-Men gathered in the hallway. "What the hell do you want?" she yelled. They quickly scattered, allowing Logan a clear path through the hall.

 

Weeks passed before Sabretooth did anything more than lounge on the Danger Room floor while Logan sat in the control room, watching him intently.  She was almost beginning to believe the professor—maybe Victor's healing factor hadn't been able to handle the massive brain trauma she had dealt him.  But not once did she feel sorry, even when Jean showed her the mind scans she'd taken of Sabretooth.  They were of forests and streams, rabbits and deer and songbirds.  The colors were bright and oversaturated.  Childlike. 

Victor rolled over on the steel floor, a placid smile on his face.  He was seeing a hologram that Kitty had programmed after the images from his mind, to keep him calm.  He was feeling the sun beating on his face and hearing the soft sounds of a stream, while Logan was stuck in a hard chair in a tiny, hot control room.  She reached under the counter and disconnected the smoke alarm for her afternoon cigarette. 

"There's no smoking in here."  Logan shot a black look at the other woman.

"Bite me, Jean."  Jean took a seat in the other control chair and lifted the Danger Room's Cerebro helmet off it's stand. 

"Time for your daily romp through the psycho's mind?"

"It's a lot more pleasant than your mind."  Right on cue, a buzzer sounded and Tabitha stepped into the Danger Room and Victor's simulation.  He smiled wider as he saw her, not a sardonic grin but a genuine expression of happiness.  Tabitha sat cross-legged in front of him and the two began conversing eagerly. 

"That's cheap," Logan commented.

"What?" said Jean, as she activated the Cerebro controls. 

"Using the kid to distract him like that.  I thought telepaths weren't supposed to go around someone's mind uninvited."

"Deal with it, Logan," said Jean shortly, and shut her eyes.  Logan turned her back and took another drag on her cigarette as she watched the pair below.  It had been easy for Tabitha to forgive Victor.  The girl had rarely left his bedside in the med lab, and now she visited him every day, for as long as the professor would allow. 

Logan wished things were that easy for her.

Jean let out a cry and Logan spun around in her chair, just in time to see the redhead tear off the Cerebro helmet and collapse, shaking, into her chair. 

"What's wrong?" said Logan, although she had an idea.

"We…"  Jean took a deep breath and got a hold of herself.  'We have a serious problem."  Logan shot a look back at Tabitha and Victor, but they were still acting ordinary as ever.

"What did you see?"  Jean pressed the playback on Cerebro, and Logan's blood chilled.  The sylvan forest was black, clouds obscuring the sun and the trees charred down to twigs.  Dead animals lay scattered around a stream that ran red with blood. 

"His mind has reverted…" said Jean.  "I didn't think it was possible."

"Looks like you were wrong, red."  Logan clicked on the comm..  "Tabitha, time to go."

"No it's not!" Tabitha whined back, holding up her wristwatch as evidence.

"Get out of there now," Logan growled, leaving no room for argument.  Victor twisted around to look at the control room, his face still holding the sweet, slightly befuddled expression he'd worn since their battle.  He waved at her. 

 

"We've restrained him," said Xavier at the team meeting the next morning.  "I must say, I held out a hope that he could be cured of this insatiable urge to kill but it seems now that that is impossible."

"Thank you Captain Obvious," Logan muttered. 

"What course of action are we taking with him now?" asked Storm.

"I've spoken to the warden at the Vault, and a team will collect him as soon as possible," said Xavier.  "Sabretooth is going to prison for the rest of his life."

"Yeah, sure," said Gambit.  "Where we hear dat one before?"

"Be quiet," said Scott.  Remy got up and left the war room.  Logan followed suit.

"Is he gonna be okay again?" said Boom Boom softly.  Xavier inclined his head sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, Tabitha, but someone like Victor can never be cured.  It is a hard fact, but a fact all the same.  The best place for him is the Vault."  Tabitha's lower lip trembled, but she just nodded and left the room.

 

Victor felt sweat trickle between his body and the cold metal bonds that held him trussed up in the Danger Room.  He hated the dark, had ever since he was a child.  Only a single soft light shown down on him—the rest of the huge room was in pitch blackness.  Who knew what might be lurking there…waiting…watching…  A shiver passed over Victor's body and he let out an angry growl as compensation.  He had to think, had to make a plan.  Now was not the time to lose it.  But it was so dark.  It was closing in on him…

A small bar of light appeared as the Danger Room door opened, and Victor caught a familiar scent.

"Hey there, Tabby."  Tabitha's angry, tear-streaked face came out of the shadows.

"You…you lied to me."

"I lie to everyone, kid.  Yer nothin' special."

"I trusted you!"

"Then you're not too smart, are ya?"

"I should have listened to Logan."  Victor snorted.

"Shoulda coulda woulda, Tabby."  He leaned forward as much as his restraints would allow.  "But the runt's not here now.  What are you gonna do all by your lonesome?"

Tabitha brought her right hand out from behind her back, revealing three glowing time bombs.  Victor laughed, loudly.

"You don't have the nerve, girly."

Tabitha's small voice was almost a growl.  "Try me."  She sneered at him.  "I hope you rot in Hell, Creed."  She cocked back her arm and the bright projectiles flew at Victor, bouncing off his chest and leaving hot burn marks.  They exploded as they hit the floor, blinding and deafening him.  He felt the metal of his restraints sag, and he topped over, hitting his chin on the Danger Room floor.  Victor smiled.  Once again, his little Tabby Cat had saved the day.

 

Tabitha's tears began again as she saw Victor vanish in a bright fireball.  How could she have let herself be so easily fooled?  No one ever just cared for her, they all used her.  Her father, the X-Men and now Victor.  But he was dead now.  He had to be.

"Heh heh heh."  Tabitha's mouth dropped open.  It couldn’t be…  "Thanks for the jailbreak, frail," Victor grinned.  "Couldn't have done it without ya."  He was shirtless and burned, but perfectly alive.

Tabitha, all reason deserting her, screamed for help at the top of her lungs.  Victor picked her up by her neck like a rag doll and threw her too the side, knocking the wind out of her.  He ran out of the Danger Room, heading for the nearest exit.  Tabitha lay on her side, thinking that he didn't even care enough to kill her. 

 

Logan crouched, slinking through the sewer. It smelled, worse than almost anything—except the scent she was tracking. As far as she was concerned, Victor Creed was the vilest creature she'd ever encountered.

This time, he wasn't getting away. He was going to pay for what he'd done to her, to Tabitha—to Silver Fox.

"Lookin' fer me, darlin'?"

Logan spun around looking around wildly for Sabretooth. "Come out and face me like a real man, Creed."

Victor chuckled. "But you never let me show you how much of a 'real man' I can be."

Logan unsheathed her claws with a snarl. "Fucking bastard."

"That the best you can come up with, frail?"

"You afraid to fight me, Creed? Afraid I might hurt you again?"

"You ain't nothin' to me, girly. I'm not afraid of you or yer little can openers."

"Well you should be."

Creed jumped from the shadows, landing on Logan and knocking her to the ground. He pressed his body against her back, putting his mouth up against her ear. "You really want to fight me, frail? Or maybe you want something else…"

"I want you to die, you goddam son of a bitch." Logan turned her head and spit on him.

Victor pushed down on her head, slamming her face into the concrete. He sat up slightly, and Logan used the new leverage of the position to push against him, knocking him off her back. She crouched in front of him as her wounds closed again.

Creed mimicked her position, chuckling. "You wanna tango, darlin'?"

"I am not your darlin'!" she yelled, lunging forward and burying her claws in his chest. Creed howled, knocking her off and across the tunnel.

Logan got back to her feet, charging Creed again. This time he was prepared, grabbing her and lifting her off the ground, her arms pinned to her sides.

"Yer not playin' nice, frail."

Logan sneered. "I never play nice." She raised her knee, hitting Victor hard between the legs. His eyes filled with shock and pain and he fell down to his knees. Logan grabbed the suppression collar from her belt and turned it up all the way before slapping it on Victor's neck. He shook with the volt, falling back to the ground.

Logan turned on her comlink. "The target is subdued."

 

Chapter 7.

Canada, 1970

Just before our love got lost you said
"I am as constant as a northern star"
And I said, "Constant in the darkness
Where's that at?
If you want me I'll be in the bar"

On the back of a cartoon coaster
In the blue TV screen light
I drew a map of Canada
Oh Canada
And I sketched your face on it twice

Oh you are in my blood like holy wine
Oh and you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you
I could drink a case of you darling
Still I'd be on my feet
I'd still be on my feet

Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
I'm frightened by the devil
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid
I remember that time that you told me, you said
"Love is touching souls"
Surely you touched mine
"Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time

Oh you are in my blood like holy wine
And you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you
I could drink a case of you darling
Still I'd be on my feet
I'd still be on my feet

I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours
She knew your life
She knew your devils and your deeds
And she said
"Go to him, stay with him if you can
Oh but be prepared to bleed"
Oh but you are in my blood you're my holy wine
Oh and you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet
I could drink a case of you darling
Still I'd be on my feet
Still I'd be on my feet
I'd still be on my feet

James MacDonald Hudson made his way through the silent, snowy woods, leaving footprints that were soon filled in by the steady snow.  He looked back for his new bride Heather, but she hadn't yet caught up to him.  James smiled as he readjusted his hunting rifle on his back—this snowstorm had extended their honeymoon by a week, which was just fine with him. 

James readied his rifle as he heard a noise from the evergreens to his left—he and Heather were in pursuit of a deer for food, but grizzly also roamed these woods, and at this time of year they were hungry if they came out of hibernation. 

"Heath," he called quietly, "I got something over here."  He saw his wife's small red head bobbing towards him up the hill, and moved ahead cautiously.  The sound was growing closer, and James's heart sank when he recognized the moans of a wounded animal.  Trapping was illegal in a state forest, but the vast majority of backwoods residents ignored the restrictions.  Mac didn't relish having to put down a wolf or a badger that had gotten caught.  He pushed aside snowy tree branches, until a clearing came into view.  Mac stopped short.  Lying huddled in the snow was a woman.

"Heather!" Mac shouted, running over to the body and feeling for a pulse.  "Heather, get up here!"  It was there, surprisingly strong for someone who looked near dead.  Mac wondered how the woman had escaped freezing to death—all she wore was a bloody lab coat.  Mac stripped off his own parka and wrapped it around her.  She moaned again, one arm reaching out feebly to push him away.

"James?" Heather appeared out of the trees.  "James, what…oh sweet Jesus."

"She's hurt badly," said Mac.  "We need to get her back to the cabin."  Heather nodded, taking his rifle and gear pack so Mac could lift the woman.  She was much heavier than she looked—Mac had to strain to get her into his arms.

"No…" she muttered weakly.

"It's alright," said Mac.  "We've got you now.  You're going to be okay."

 

She didn't know where she was. The room came into focus slowly, but she didn't recognize her surroundings. Slowly, she sat up, clutching her pounding head.

The flannel shirt she was wearing came past her wrists and she smelled a male scent on it. She wondered if maybe she'd missed something.

"Is anyone there?" she asked, her voice cracking from lack of use. "Hello?"

A tall, handsome man with dark hair came in the room a moment later. "So you're awake."

"Sort of…"

He stood beside her. "My name is James MacDonald Hudson—Mac. My wife and I found you in the woods. We brought you in, and my wife administered medical attention."

"I don't need medical attention."

"I noticed. Your injuries started healing almost as soon as we got you in out of the snow."

She pulled the covers up to her chin, wrapping herself tighter. "Do you know me?"

"No." Mac frowned. "What's your name?"

She felt like she wanted to cry. "I…I don't know."

Mac sat beside her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her. She fell over on him, not caring that she was with a stranger. She didn't have any memories of anyone anyway, so what difference did it make? She sobbed into his shoulder.

"Um, I thought you might be hungry now that you're awake…"

Mac pulled away from her. "Heather, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure." She brought the plate over to the woman in the bed. "Do you like tuna fish?"

"I don't know."

Heather frowned, but gave her the tray anyway. She left the room with her husband.

Logan could hear their conversation even thought the redhead called Heather had shut the door.  It was like they were right next to her. 

"Who is she?" Heather asked.

"I don't know," said Mac.  "She doesn't remember."

"Amnesia?"

"Looks like it."  Logan heard Mac's feet shift.  "I wonder how she got there."

"Probably kidnapped and dumped by some redneck psychos after they'd had their fun with her."

"Maybe she's lucky she doesn't remember anything…"

"Traumatic memory loss wears off after a few days," said Heather, "or it never wears off…hopefully we can at least find out her name."

"She seems to be healed up from those wounds." 

"I know…I've never seen anything like it, in all my years in the Department."  Logan frowned anxiously to herself.

The Department…

"I wish the snow would let up—she needs to be checked out in a real hospital," said Mac.  Logan heard Heather take steps towards him and the soft sound of bodies pressing together.

"But I thought you liked being stuck here with me, James MacDonald."  Mac laughed.

"I do, Dr. Hudson, I do."  Heather kissed him, a soft wet sound.

"Then relax and let me worry about the mystery woman, okay?  She'll be fine here with us watching over her."

 

"Ya think maybe you could do something with black hair. A little longer." A frown. "Okay, make yourself a little smaller. Blue eyes. Yeah, that'll do."

Raven Darkhölme sighed. Sometimes she didn't know why she bothered with Victor Creed. Was he really worth it?

Victor grabbed her and threw her on the bed, kissing her so hard she could barely breathe.

Yes, yes he was.

Raven lay next to Victor afterwards, watching his chest rise and fall with his breathing. "You've never been that passionate before, Victor," she said, running her fingers down from his shoulder to the planes of his stomach. "I liked it."

"Yeah. I'm going to make a sandwich."

Raven pulled the sheets around her, allowing her body to shift back to it's normal shape and color, her short red hair brushing her cheeks.  Victor liked variety, and she was more than happy to turn into the woman of his dreams most nights, but she wondered what was different about this one.  The way he had looked at her…

"Raven!  Where’s the damn mustard?"

"In the refrigerator," she answered wearily.  She wished she could just ask him, but it would either provoke a silent, scornful look or one of his towering rages.  Victor strolled back into the bedroom holding a plate, sitting on the edge of the bed and devouring his sandwich. 

"What's on yer mind, blue?"  Raven started to speak, but changed her mind.

"Nothing in particular."

"That sounds about right."

"Fuck you, Victor."

"Been there, done that."  Raven gathered her clothes and stomped out of the bedroom.

"Bastard."

Victor finished his sandwich and sprawled across the now vacant bed, quickly falling asleep.

 

Her eyes snapped open. Something from her dream…something vague she could almost grasp. She closed her eyes, trying to bring it back to the surface.

Logan…

She jumped from the bed, running into the other room. "Mac! Mac are you awake?"

"He went to see if the roads are any clearer yet."

She looked over at Heather. "My name," she said. "I remember my name."

Heather smiled. "That's wonderful! What is it?"

"Logan."

"Is that your first name or your last name?"

Logan frowned. "How the hell should I know?"

"They're starting to move some of the fallen trees off the road. I talked to someone who said we should be able to leave by the end of the week." Mac stopped, looking at Logan. "Hi."

"Hi." Logan smiled. "I remembered my name. It's Logan."

"That's great," Mac said, beaming at her. Heather turned away from the two other people in the room, concentrating on breakfast.

"I don't remember anything else," Logan said with a frown.

Mac took her hand in his. "But it's a start…Logan."

 

The pain pulled her back to consciousness. Her hands…they were burning. She looked down. There was blood on the sheets. She fumbled to get out of the bed, but her fingers didn't seem to want to work right. She looked down, and… Logan screamed. What were they?

"Logan! Logan are you alright?"

The sound of Mac's voice snapped her back to the moment. She wanted to make them go away. She took a deep breath, and with a *snikt* they were gone.

Mac burst into the room. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the blood on the bed and on Logan. "What happened?"

"Uh…that time of the month?"

Mac frowned. He didn't know much about that aspect of biology. "Um, okay. I'll have Heather wash the sheets."

Logan just nodded.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, sure. I'm just going to go change my clothes, all right?"

Mac nodded, and Logan made her way into the bathroom, picking up the jeans and sweater Heather had lent her on the way in. She shut the door and looked down at her hands. Nothing was there now, except the blood. She made a tight fist with her left hand.

*SNIKT*

Logan winced, but pushed the pain away. Three long, metal claws were protruding from the backs of her hands. She reached up, touching the tip of one. She cursed, pulling back as they pierced through the flesh.

She knew she didn't remember anything much from before the Hudsons had found her, but somehow she knew that these hadn't always been with her. And yet, at the same time, they reminded her of something from long, long ago…

She pulled the claws back in her hands. They were something she could deal with later. Right now she had other things to deal with. Like cleaning up all that blood.

She rinsed off her hands, watching the red water run down the drain. She turned off the water and gripped the edges of the sink, looking at herself in the mirror.

She sneered angrily at the stranger that looked back.

 

"Well, well, well if it ain't my favorite shapeshifter."

Mystique froze. "What are you doing here?"

"Takin' a hit. You?"

"Same." Mystique frowned. "Who?"

Victor pointed to a man a few feet away. "Him. You?"

"Looks like the guy was double-booked."

Victor smirked. "Ain't that sweet. Wanna pull a double like in the old days?"

"Old days? It's been less than a year since I saw you last."

"Seems like longer. You were a sweet fuck, babe."

"I'm not getting back in your bed. That's already ruined my life enough."

Victor cocked a blond eyebrow. "What are you talking about, frail?"

"You have a hit, don't you Victor?" Mystique started to walk away.

Victor grabbed her arm. "Hell no. Yer not just walkin' away from me. What were you alludin' to?"

Mystique threw his arm off of her. "You knocked me up, you bastard."

Victor stared at her for a moment, not even noticing that his hit was walking away. "So where's the kid?"

"I don't know. I left him somewhere."

"You what! What kind of a lousy mother are you?"

"What the hell do you care, Creed? Like you would've been the world's best father. You probably would've kept the kid locked up in a closet or something."

Victor snarled, grabbing her by her collar. "I wouldn't lock my kid up nowhere, frail."

Mystique tried not to let her fear show, although she figured Victor could probably smell it. "He's with people better than us."

Victor pushed her away. "It was a boy."

"Yes. I…I named him Graydon Creed."

"Heh. Nice to know my son's name." He glared at Mystique. "Don't come back around me. I'll kill you."

He walked away, pushing past anyone who got in his way, the hit long since forgotten.

 

The setting was familiar to Logan—a small room inside a military installation, her teammates around her, command personnel going in and out.  She sat on the edge of her cot and surveyed the small space.  It felt like home.  It felt right. 

"How are you adjusting?" Mac poked his head in.  Logan smiled at him.

"Not bad."

"It can seem sort of monastic at first, but we can get you some stuff to dress it up." 

"It's perfect."  Mac nodded.

"Good.  Come down to the common area when you're ready and meet the rest of the team."  He left, shutting the door behind him.  Logan opened her small duffle bag full of hand me down clothes, and the one blue sweater she'd never returned to Heather Hudson.  She knew it set off her eyes, and anyway, redheads wearing blue wasn't the most attractive thing on earth. 

She put her few things in the drawers of her dresser while she thought about Heather and Mac.  Mac was a wonderful, outgoing man who had been nothing but kind to her, but she sensed that Heather bore her some resentment.  Well, Logan reasoned, she had interrupted their honeymoon.  That would make her cranky. 

The last thing in Logan's bag jingled as she drew it out.  Another piece of the puzzle that was her past.  Tarnished dogtags that had been around her neck when Mac found her, or so he claimed.  They bore a serial number and a name.  Wolverine.  What kind of a name was that, anyway?

Logan put the tags around her neck, tucking them under her shirt.  Somehow that felt right.  She smoothed her long hair back, wondering why she cared how she looked.  She was pretty, but who was she trying to impress?  There was no one here but the rest of her team.

"Logan, this is Alpha Flight.  Everyone, this is Logan."  Mac gestured to the other people in the comfortable lounge.  A chorus of assorted hellos came back.  Logan felt suddenly intimidated.  "Have a seat," said Mac.  "Our CO will be in in just a moment."  Logan sank into the nearest seat, which happened to be on a couch next to a very short man.

"Howya doin'?" he stuck out his hand.  "Name's Puck."  Logan shook it tentatively. 

"Hi there Puck."

"So where's a pretty girl like you from?"

"Like she'd tell you."  Logan looked up to see a tall, elegant white-haired woman standing over her.  "Snowbird.  Pleased to meet you."

"Hey."

"Puck suffers from what we like to call a severe lack of tact, coupled with stalker tendencies."  Puck grinned.

"Aw, baby, you just want me and you can't have me."

"Not in my darkest nightmares."  She smiled at Logan.  "How did you come to be a member of Alpha Flight, my dear?"

"Mac found her in the woods," said Heather.  "Brought her home like a stray."

"Ah," said Snowbird.  Heather gave Logan a look and then stalked to the opposite end of the room.  "Don't mind her," said Snowbird.  "Heather has permanent PMS, plus she's paranoid Guardian is cheating on her."

"Guardian?"

"James."

"Oh," said Logan.  "Is he?"

"Of course not!" said Snowbird.  "He's the most faithful man in Canada.  Heather is just a…well…"

"A raving bitch," supplied Puck.  Snowbird looked down her nose at him.

"If you have to use that kind of language." 

"They seemed happy to me," said Logan. 

"Did they really find you wandering around the woods?" said Puck.  Logan nodded.

"I don't remember much before that.  Heather said I must have experienced a trauma."  Puck and Snowbird looked sympathetic.

"What are your abilities?" Snowbird inquired.  Logan looked down at her hands.

"Fast healing."

"That sounds handy," said Puck. 

"Very," said Logan.  "I can't even get drunk, really."

"Damn," said Puck.  "Sign me up for one of those."  Snowbird sat on the other side of her.

"Well, you'll find us generally a friendly bunch, although we do our share of bickering, like any team.  The CO really doesn't keep a close eye on us, and autonomy breeds anarchy."

"I don't wanna start any trouble," said Logan.

"Of course you don't, dear."  The door at the opposite end of the room opened and a man in a khaki green army uniform stepped through.  Logan's eyes lit on her face and for a second she couldn't breath.

I know him…

"Where's this new star member I've been hearing about, Mac?" he said, clapping Guardian heartily on the back.  Mac lead him over to Logan.

"Logan, this is General Howard Chasen.  Sir, this is Logan."  Chasen stuck out his hand.

"Good to have you aboard, Ms. Logan."  Logan blinked and swallowed.

"Yeah.  Uh, good to be here."  Chasen cocked his head.

"Something the matter?"  Logan's head pounded, but the memory would not surface.  She realized her hands were shaking and took a calming breath.

"No, sir." 

"Good.  Mac and I will review your abilities and combat level and then we'll place you on a sub-team, alright?"

"Fine, sir."

"See you tomorrow, little lady."  Chasen walked out with Mac.

"Oily as they come," said Snowbird.  "Word is he  worked on some kind of top secret weapons program before they transferred him here.  Don't trust him."  Logan looked at her.

"I'll remember that…"

"You looked as if you'd seen a ghost when he came in."

Logan stood.  "I'm just fine.  Peachy, in fact.  It was nice meeting you two.  See you later."  She walked quickly out of the room to try to make sense of the tangled jumble of barely tangible thoughts inside her head.

 

"Mac?"

"Yes, Logan?"

"Where did Chasen work before here?"

"I don't know, somewhere in the Canadian government, I suppose."

Logan frowned. "That isn't much of an answer, Hudson."

Mac shrugged. "Sorry, Logan, but it's the best I can give you." He paused. "Why did you ask?"

"It's just, well, for the past two months since I came to Alpha Flight I've been trying to place why he looks so familiar, and I just can't."

"Who knows why he looks familiar. Maybe he reminds you of your father or something, and you just don't remember."

"Yeah…maybe." Logan wasn't appeased by that answer, but she decided to let it go.

Mac yawned. "Sorry," he said. "Long night."

"Lots of paperwork?"

"I wish. Heather and I had an argument."

Logan looked at him sympathetically. "Is everything all right with the two of you now?"

"Yeah, I guess." Mac ran his fingers through his hair. "I love her so much, it's just that all this work with Alpha Flight is already weighing on our marriage. I'm not there for her as much as I should be."

"Well, if I were your wife, I'd think you were doing a great job." She patted him on the hand. "You seem to love her a lot, and I know you do what you can for her."

"She means the world to me, you know."

Logan tried not to let it show how much those words stung. "You're a good man, Mac."

"I'm just a man, Logan. I do the best I can, but I don't always do what's right."

"We all make mistakes. Heck, who knows what I did before you found me. I was naked in the woods after all."

Mac blushed a bit at the memory. "I'm sure you couldn't have been anything less than wonderful."

"Heh. Thanks, Mac." Logan shifted uncomfortably.

Mac stared at her, wishing she was wearing anything but her all-too tight uniform. "I have some, um, paperwork I have to get filed."

Logan stood up. "Yeah. I'll see you around, Mac."

"See ya."

As soon as she was gone, Mac slumped back in the chair, letting out a deep breath.

 

Victor stood on a pleasant suburban street in Maryland, watching the Tudor house across the way.  He had been standing there for a while, just waiting.  Victor could be patient when he wanted too—it was part of being a hunter.  No one was on the street, except for a single red station wagon making its way towards him at the 25-mile-per-hour speed limit.  It pulled into the driveway of the house.

"Honey, don't forget Don's diaper bag," a blond woman called to her husband as she got out of the passenger side and unstrapped a small toddler from his car seat. 

"Got it, honey."  The man was tall, well-groomed and in a suit.  He had a briefcase as well as the diaper bag.  Victor's lip curled with reflexive scorn.  But then he took a step back.  The little blond boy was smiling up at the man.  Stretching out his arms.  Saying "Daddy."

Victor growled low in his throat and walked back to his waiting car.  The kid was alright.  There was nothing more he could do. 

 

"You've been awfully quiet recently, Wolverine."

Logan frowned. "I'm fine, Snowbird."

"You sure? You've been moodier than usual. And you keep zoning out." She gave Logan a sideways look. "You're not in love, are you?"

Logan grew pale. "No!"

"That wasn't very convincing," Snowbird said. "Who is he? That cute assistant of Chasen's?"

Logan looked away. "I'd rather not talk about it."

Snowbird frowned. "It's not Puck is it?"

"Ah! No!"

"Good, you worried me." Snowbird patted Logan on the shoulder. "Well, if you need anyone to talk to, I'm here."

"Thank you."

Logan curled up on the couch after Snowbird left. She hated it when people got her pegged that well. She hadn't been able to get Mac Hudson off her mind since she'd met him, and each day it was just getting worse.

She didn't want to do something that would hurt Heather—after all, the woman had let her stay at her cabin in the middle of her honeymoon—but she couldn't deny what she felt for Mac. And she was pretty sure it was mutual.

Logan couldn't take it anymore. It was driving her crazy. She had to talk to Mac, had to clear the air. She went to his office, going in without even knocking. "We need to talk."

Mac looked up from the file he was reading. "Yes, Logan?"

"Look, I'm going to be perfectly honest here—I like you. More than I should. I know you're married, but I…" Logan looked at the pale expression on Mac's face. "And I've said way too much and I should go."

Mac jumped up from his desk, almost knocking over a file cabinet. He grabbed Logan. "Wait…"

She looked at him. "Yes."

Mac turned away from her wide, blue eyes. "I shouldn't want this, too, Logan, but I do."

Logan grabbed him and kissed him, not able to control herself anymore. Mac hefted her up off her feet, kissing her back as he used one hand to knock everything off his desk and lying her down. Logan ripped at his shirt, buttons flying to the floor with little clicks. Mac groaned. It wasn't like this with Heather…

Logan allowed herself to just focus on the present, pushing out the guilty thoughts in her head.

 

Logan sat beside Mac, both of them leaning against his desk. He tried to smooth his ruffled hair. "We shouldn't have done that," he said softly. "Oh God, I can't believe I just did that to Heather."

Logan stood up, gathering her clothes from the random places they had ended up in the office. "I'm sorry, Mac."

"That cannot happen again," Mac said in his stern, Guardian voice.

Logan bristled. "It wasn't entirely my idea, James."

Mac glared up at her. "You came into my office professing attraction."

"I didn't make you throw me on your desk and fuck me!"

Mac's eyes grew wide at her language. "I think you better go now, Logan."

Logan looked down at Mac, a sudden disillusionment coming over her. "You're not the man I thought you were." 

"I told you before—I'm just a man."

"Yeah, I guess you are."

Logan left his office and didn't stop going until she was off the compound.

 

She smelled Snowbird before she saw her.  Snowbird took a look at her sullen, morose-looking teammate and came over, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"He rejected you, my dear?"  Logan snorted.

"Nah.  The opposite, in fact."  Snowbird raised an eyebrow.

"You seem upset by that."

"I don't seem it, I am fucking upset!" Logan shouted.  Snowbird took a step back. 

"You're a bit wound up."  She drew a pack of filtered cigarettes from her parka.  "Have one.  It will calm your nerves."

"Those things will kill you."

"I think you're safe, Wolverine."

"I don't know if I even smoked."  Snowbird passed her one and Logan took it, accepting the light from the other woman's monogrammed lighter.  She inhaled and exhaled once.  It seemed natural, and Snowbird was right—it was calming. 

"You will find someone else who is worthy of your time and attention," said Snowbird.  "I assure you."

"I don't care any more," said Logan as she exhaled again.  "Men are nothing but trouble."

"You have discovered one of the fundamental facts of life, my dear."  She and Snowbird smoked in silence for a few more moments, then Snowbird flicked her butt into a snow bank.  "I am going in…enjoy your solitude."

"Yeah, thanks for the smoke."  Snowbird left her alone.  Logan looked out over the treeline and exhaled bitterly.  Who the fuck did Mac Hudson think he was, anyway, Saint of the Great White North?  He was no better than any other man who cheated on his wife, for whatever reason.  If his wife was too frigid to satisfy him, Logan knew she didn't deserve to have it taken out on her.  She was angry, really angry, the rage coursing through her like a drug.  She dropped the cigarette on the ground and let out a growl.  It felt cleansing, almost. 

Logan knew with a sudden clarity that this rage was coming to her from her past, that this feeling had served as an integral part of her old life.  And it felt good.  Logan walked towards the trees, a walk that quickly turned into a run as she chased the anger, not wanting to lose it.

 

"Wolverine, may I speak to you in Guardian's office?"

Logan heart clinched at the tone in Chasen's voice, coupled with the look on his face. "Yeah, sure, general."

She went into Mac's office trying to keep her eyes off the desk. A chagrined Mac Hudson stood beside a rather-angry looking Heather. Logan guessed the proverbial shit was about to hit the fan. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

"You're dang right there's a problem!" Heather exclaimed.

"Calm down, Vindicator," Chasen said. "Let me handle this." He turned to Logan. "A certain…indiscretion has been brought to my attention, and I believe that it may cause problems for the team—something I cannot have. Wolverine, I'm afraid I'm going to have to move you to another division."

"Fuck that!" Logan yelled. "Mac was just as involved as I was! How come I'm the one who's getting the shaft?"

"Wolverine, Guardian is the leader of Alpha Flight. He can't leave. You can. There's a place open in the business division…"

"Business division? Do I look like a goddam secretary? You know what you can do with your transfer, Chasen? You can shove it up your pasty white ass, ya bastard!"

Chasen sighed. Yeah, this was the Logan he remembered. He needed to get her out of this potentially dangerous situation. "It would only be temporary, until we can find a more suitable position for you. There's nothing else we can do, Logan. It's not like you can just walk out…"

"Oh no? Watch me, bub." She started to walk away, and Chasen stepped in front of her.

"You can't leave."

Logan's claws popped out and she sliced Chasen's tie at the knot. He grew pale. "Um, I…"

"Outta my way."

Chasen stepped back, deciding that it might be better to let her go for now than to risk his life with an unstable personality.

Logan stalked out of the base, not even going back to collect her things or to say her good byes.

 

Chapter 8.

Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick
and think of you
caught up in circles confusion is nothing new
Flashback, warm nights-
almost left behind
Suitcases of memories, time after—

Sometimes you picture me-
I'm walking to far ahead
you're calling to me, I can't hear what you've said
Then you say go slow
I fall behind
The second hand unwinds
 
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
time after time
If you fall I will catch you,  I'll be waiting
time after time

After my picture fades
a darkness has turned to gray
Watching through windows
you're wondering if I'm okay
Secrets stolen from deep inside
the drum beats out of time

 If you're lost you can look and you will find me
time after time
If you fall I will catch you,  I'll be waiting
time after time

You said go slow
I fall behind
the second hand unwinds

If you're lost you can look and you will find me
time after time
If you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting
time after time


 Jean sat back in her chair and shook her head.  "I don't understand it, Professor."  Xavier frowned, rubbing his chin. 

"Explain what you saw again."

"When I mind-scanned Sabretooth, the basic architecture of his mind was the same, but it's…changed.  Before, these images and feelings came at me with no control—it was like a tsunami.  Now," she paused.  "There is control.  Like he can turn it on and off." 

"Fascinating," said Xavier.  "We must send him to the med lab for a CAT scan…it's entirely possible that when Logan damaged his brain she severed the nerves responsible for his bloodlust urges." 

Jean sighed.  "All that for Victor Creed?  When are the agents from the Vault coming?"

"To tell you the truth," said Xavier.  "I have asked them to postpone taking Sabretooth away until we can gain a more complete understanding of him, as a mutant and a foe."  Jean pursed her lips.

"Does Scott know about this?"

"I have not relayed the information to Cyclops."

"No offense, Professor, but at the risk of sounding like Wolverine—this is a bad idea.  Sabretooth can't be trusted, he's demonstrated that twice.  He almost killed Tabitha, and God knows what he'll do if he gets out again."

"I don't trust him, Jean.  I wish to study him."

"So we just keep him caged up like a lab animal?"  The Professor frowned at her. 

"That is my decision, Jean."  Jean set her Cerebro helmet back on it's perch. 

"Of course, Professor.  You know best."  She stood to leave.  "Should I tell Logan?  She's his little bodyguard for the duration of her probation, after all." 

"I don't think revealing all the details would be wise—but you may inform her his bloodlust is sated, at least for now.  He can be allowed into the Danger Room periodically.  Maybe eventually the rest of the mansion.  It depends on his behavior."

"Yes, Professor."  Jean left to execute his orders. 

 

It was bad enough, Logan thought, that she had to baby-sit Sabretooth in a cell, but now that Xavier had decided she had "cured" him with a claw through the head and allowed him free run of the Danger Room, it was just cruel and unusual.  Having to watch Sabretooth tear up holographic ninjas was only marginally better, in Logan's opinion, than having red-hot pokers shoved in her eyes.

"Frail!" Victor shouted at her from the Danger Room floor.  "Turn it up another level.  This is kid stuff."  Logan sighed.  It was just common sense not to give Sabretooth voice access to Cerebro, but it gave him an excuse to treat her like a damn lackey.  "C'mon, runt!" Victor shouted.  "Move yer slow ass!"  Logan smiled and waved at him as she turned the Danger Room controls to maximum.  She heard Sabretooth give a yell as he was bombarded by the X-Men's worse villains from all sides, and soon collapsed in a smoking heap.

"Had enough for today, honey-buns?" Logan spoke into the comm..  Victor's scorched hand emerged from under his body with the middle finger extended.  "Cute, Creed."  Logan went down to the outside door and released the lock to escort him back to his cell. 

Logan decided this was the worst part of her job as Creed's babysitter—having to be alone with him like this. Sometimes it was all-too like the old days, back with Team X. Back before she knew what he really was.

"Ya know, I coulda taken those punks in the Danger Room."

"It was Apocalypse, Sinister, and Magneto."

Victor shrugged. "That doesn't bother me none. I coulda beaten 'em no problem."

Logan rolled her eyes. "Then why didn't you?"

"'Cause you were leanin' forward over that damn console up there. One look at yer tits, and my mind goes off the battle."

Logan restrained herself from sticking another claw through his head—and holding it until he stopped twitching this time. "You are such a fucking pervert."

"I always thought you liked it dirty."

"Just shut up. I'm sick of listening to you flapping your jaws."

Victor just smirked, slowing down his pace so he could walk behind her.

Logan sighed. "Are you staring at my ass again, Creed?"

"Of course. You sure you won't stay a little while tonight, frail? I get awfully lonely in that dark, cold cell all by my lonesome."

Logan punched the code to open his cell door.  "Very sure."  She ushered Victor inside.  "Victor?"

He grinned, baring his fangs.  "Yeah, frail?"

"How come Xavier didn't detect your bloodlust was gone until now?"  Victor snorted, his sarcastic look going bitter.

"Xavier never gave me a chance."  The cell door rolled closed, cutting off further conversation.

 

"So how's Herr Psycho?"  Logan groaned.

"Don't ask, Kitty." 

"He can't be that bad—Jean said he's all docile now." 

"Yeah, docile like an alligator."  Kitty sat down next to Logan on the couch where she was reading. 

"You're doing a good job—really."  Logan sighed as she flipped a page.

"I just wanna pound on his face until he shuts up." 

"You only have another week until your probation is over.  Cheer up.  Rogue and Storm promised we'd start up Lady's Poker Night again as soon as you were free."

"Thanks, Kitty."

"What are friends for?  Just keep from killing him for seven more days."

"I'll try real hard."  She looked up at the clock and sighed.  "It's time for his highness's Danger Room workout.  I'll see you later, Shadowcat."

"Later, Logan."

 

"Seein' you on the other side of my cell is the one bright spot to my day."

Logan rolled her eyes. "Please, Creed, cut the bullshit."

"Who said I was bullshittin' ya."

Logan started a little, but shook her head. If there was one thing Victor Creed was good at, it was his twisted little mind games. "Come on. Let's get this over with so I can put you back behind bars where you belong."

"Actually, there ain't any bars. It's more of a walls and force-fields job."

Logan rolled her eyes. "I was speaking figuratively."

Creed just smirked. "That's a big word for such a little runt."

"Are you insulting my intelligence?"

"How can I? It would have to be there."

Logan grabbed his arm, preparing to drag him from the room. Victor clamped his own hand over hers, digging his talons into the surface of her skin. "Gentle, gentle, frail," he said, leaning forward so she could feel his breath on her skin. "Yer not supposed to be mishandlin' the prisoners."

"Let me go," she said, trying to pull her arm free.

"Why should I?" Victor asked, digging his talons in deeper. "Maybe I like ya this close."

Logan jerked away, freeing herself for a second before Victor grabbed her again. This time, he brought her arm to his lips, licking off the blood from the wounds he'd caused on her wrist. Logan shuddered.

"Ready to watch me get all sweaty?" Victor asked with a wink.

"I hate you so much."

"There's a thin line between love and hate frail. A thin line."

 

Later, Logan sat outside Victor's cell reading, ignoring the fact that he'd gotten most of his "prisoner clothes" of a sweatshirt and pants burned or ripped off during his workout.  She wasn't in the mood to cater to his needs.

"Whatcha got yer nose in, frail?"  Logan glanced up.

"Macbeth."

"The Scottish play," said Victor.  Logan looked up again.

"You actually know what I'm talking about?"

"Yeah, sure.  Macbeth is damn good, but I like Julius Caesar better.  Gotta love a power-mad dictator stabbed in the back by his best friend."  Logan tried to hide her shock.

"Caesar has its good points I guess." 

"Ya don't have to try and impress me now, runt—I didn't even know ya could read."  Logan flipped him off.

"Fuck you."

"Whatever you say, frail."  He began to remove his shredded clothes as Logan quickly averted her eyes.  Victor chuckled.  "Afraid ya might see somethin' ya like?"

"More like something that would haunt my nightmares, Creed."  Victor wrapped the blanket from his cot around his waist and sat down.

"When yer done with that thing slide it my way.  I'm goin' nuts starin' at the walls." 

"What do I look like, a library?"  Victor frowned.

"No, an' I'm sorry I made the mistake of thinkin' ya had a sympathetic bone in your body."

Logan slapped her book shut and sighed.  "Creed, I don't like you.  In fact, I despise you.  Accept it.  You're never gonna be my best friend." 

"No shit, frail."  Logan growled and got to her feet. 

"You know, every time I start to think maybe this guard detail is bearable, you prove once again what a complete asshole you are."

"So ya do have somethin' in there besides hatin' me."

"Don't get any big ideas."  Victor smiled. 

"Wouldn't dream of it."  Logan sighed, then stepped forward and put her book through the food slot. 

"It belongs to Beast, so be nice to it or he'll get all pissed off."  Victor picked up the small tome as Logan started to walk off.

"Thanks, Logan."  Logan stopped.

"Uh…you're welcome, I guess."  She looked at him over her shoulder.  "Have a good night."

"G'night, darlin'." 

"I'm not your darlin'."

"I know, I know.  Night."

"Night."

 

Chapter 9.

If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me
For I must be traveling on now
There's too many places I've got to see

If I stay here with you girl
Things just couldn't be the same
'Cause I'm as free as a bird now
And this bird you cannot change

Oh, and the bird you cannot change
And this bird you cannot change
Lord knows I can't change

Bye-bye babe, it's been sweet, love
'Though this feeling I can't change
But please don't take this so badly
'Cause Lord knows I'm to blame

But if I stay here with you girl
Things just couldn't be the same
'Cause I'm as free as a bird now
And this bird you cannot change

Oh, and the bird you cannot change
And this bird you cannot change
Lord knows I can't change
Lord help me I can't change

Oh no, I can't change

Tokyo, Japan, 1970s

Logan decided that this was one of the worst jobs she'd ever had. Playing errand-girl to leering Japanese gangsters was not exactly her idea of a good time. But it paid the bills.

She was leaving a warehouse after her latest drop when she saw a tall man in a suit approaching her. <<Hey, baby, come here,>> he said in Japanese

Logan raised an eyebrow. "No." She responded in English.

The man was obviously not used to being told no. "You're supposed to come when I call you," he replied, using English this time. "Don't you know who I am."

"Don't know, don't care, bub."

The man looked at her in mild shock. "Do you work for the Yashida Clan?"

"Yeah, I'm a courier."

"Oh. Never mind then."

Logan cocked her head. "What did you think I was—a hooker?"

"Yes."

Well, at least he was honest. Logan had to give him that much. "Well, I'm not."

"Do you need a ride somewhere?"

"I just told you I'm not a whore."

"I didn't ask if you wanted to ride me," the man said with a smirk. "I just thought you might not want to walk around here alone. It's going to get dark soon."

"I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure you can, but I'd feel much better if I didn't walk off and leave a woman by herself in a less-than-safe alleyway."

Logan sighed. She really didn't feel like walking all the way back to her rat-hole of an apartment. If the guy got too friendly, she'd just pop her claws and cut something off. "Sure, why not."

The man stuck out his hand to shake hers, greeting her in the Western style. Logan noticed the tattoos on his arm and deduced he was a gangster. "Makoto," he said, introducing himself.

"Logan."

"Are you American?"

"Canadian."

"Close enough."

Logan grunted. "Hardly."

Makoto smiled at her, leading her to a black Cadillac. He opened the door for her, then got in behind her. "Where do you live?" he asked Logan.

She told him, and he looked at her in surprise. "How does a small woman like you survive in such a place?"

"I'm stronger than I look."

"Are you paid much for your courier position?"

"What's it to you?"

Makoto liked her feistiness. "I can see that you are given a higher position in the Clan. Better living arrangements."

Logan wasn't sure what she thought of that. "I'll think about it. Right now I just want to go home."

"Of course." He gave the directions to her apartment to the driver.

Logan leaned back in the seat and watched the silhouettes of buildings rush by through tinted glass.

 

Two days later, Logan's daily workout was interrupted by a sharp knock at her door. "Flamin' hell," she muttered. "I paid my damn rent."

She flung the door open, surprised to see Makoto. He bowed. "Good afternoon."

"Uh, good afternoon. Why are you here?"

Makoto reached out and put a white orchid behind her ear. "I wished to see your beautiful face again."

Logan wanted to kick herself when she realized she was actually blushing.  "Well, here it is, handsome."  Makoto smiled. 

"I also wished to extend an invitation to dine with me.  On Saturday night."  Logan did a double take.  Being asked on actual dates wasn't something she was used to.

"Sure—I mean, yes.  Yes, I'd like that."  Makoto inclined his head. 

"Very good.  A car will pick you up at seven."  He bowed once more and retreated down her hall.  Logan basked pleasantly for a moment, then panicked when she realized she had nothing to wear. 

 

Logan fidgeted with the collar of her cheongsam as the driver of the ubiquitous black Cadillac ferried her deep into the Shinjuku District in the heart of downtown Tokyo.  Past posh department stores and five star restaurants Logan could see the Imperial Palace erected during the Tokugawa regime.  She checked her hair in the rearview mirror, done up with chopsticks and Makoto's white orchid, preserved in her refrigerator. 

The car came to a stop on a side street, in front of an intimate restaurant done in traditional Japanese style with shoji screens and straw mats on the floors.  Logan stopped nervously in the entryway.  What if he wasn't there?  What if she'd been stood up?  What if she was dressed completely wrong?

"You look lovely."  Logan turned with great relief to see Makoto. 

"Thanks. You don't look half bad yourself."

Makoto stood a little taller, as if he was preening. He did look handsome, in his black suit with a red tie. Logan noticed it complimented her own dress and smiled.

They walked into the restaurant, and everyone immediately fell into place, going out of their way to cater to Makoto's ever whim. Logan reacted with mild surprise, wondering just how high up in the clan this man was. He definitely was ranked higher than petty street thug…

"What was your life like before you came here?" Makoto asked after they had eaten and a waiter had brought sake.

"It wasn't exactly sunshine and puppy dogs," said Logan.  Makoto smiled. 

"Your eyes say that you have led a hard life."

"They're right."

"But they are very pure also—they look like the sea off Osaka."  He took a sip of his sake.  "I have a summer home there.  It's my favorite place in the world."

"It must be nice to have a place to escape to," said Logan wistfully.  Makoto nodded.

"More than you know."  Logan noticed that while he had been perfectly attentive throughout the meal, his eyes never stopped scanning the restaurant. 

"Are you nervous about something?"  Makoto gave her a startled look.

"Am I being that obvious?"

"Only to someone with military training."  She didn't bother to qualify her statement.  "I wouldn't worry—those bodyguards at the tables around us seem pretty tough."  Makoto's mouth twitched.

"You are a woman of many talents, Logan."

"You have no idea, handsome."

Makoto leaned in closer. "Would you like to show me these talents?"

Logan winked. "Your place or mine?"

"Uh, mine. Yours frightens me."

Logan laughed, and Makoto found the sound refreshing. It was a genuine laugh, not one meant just to charm him.

Makoto snapped his fingers, and a waiter appeared. <<Check.>>

<<No check necessary.>> The waiter said with a low bow.

Makoto nodded. He got up, then went to help Logan out of her chair. She walked from the restaurant on his arm.

 

Logan would be lying if she said she wasn't impressed by Makoto's penthouse.  It was lavishly appointed in mostly black, with a huge, raised bed being the focal point.  Makoto removed his jacket and shoes, and Logan also left hers on the mat next to the door.  He noticed her staring.

"Do you like it?"

"Looks like a prince lives here."  Makoto smiled slightly. 

"The bed belonged to a member of the Tokugawa family—they say it was used mostly for his concubines."  His smile changed to a wicked grin.  Logan returned it. 

"Looks comfy."  Makoto ushered her over.

"Please, lie down."  Logan raised an eyebrow.

"You're movin' a little fast even for me, Makoto."  He laughed.

"I didn't mean it like that.  You must lie down to experience this bed."  He loosened his tie and flopped backwards, his slim body sinking down into the black satiny coverlet.  "Come on Logan—don't be afraid." 

"I'm not afraid of you, handsome," said Logan as she landed next to him.  Makoto hadn’t been lying—the bed was the most comfortable thing she'd ever lain on.  He looked over at her, black eyes hooded.

"Well?" 

"It's great," said Logan with a soft moan of comfort.  "Can I never move again?"  Makoto reached over and traced a hand gently down her cheek, over the swell of her breasts and down her taut stomach. 

"That would be fine with me, Logan."  He bent his head to hers and kissed her, gently but full of passion.  Logan returned his kiss eagerly, and didn't resist when he began to undo the clasps on her cheongsam.  She began to undo the buttons on his shirt in kind, for some reason wanting to keep the slow, steady pace he was setting rather than race ahead.  Makoto drew a breath when he saw her pale skin illuminated in the low light of the bedroom.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."  Logan smiled up at him.  Makoto certainly wasn't ugly—he had a muscular torso with brilliant tattoos cascading up his right arm and over his chest.  His shaggy black hair fell in his eyes as he bent to kiss her again, more insistent this time.  Logan responded to him, letting him take the lead.  "I want you," Makoto breathed against her neck.  Logan shivered as he slid his body over hers, echoing the sentiment.

"Take me."

 

Logan propped up on her elbow, tracing her fingers down the tattoos that covered his arm and chest. "You must be pretty high-ranking to have all these."

Makoto shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I am."

"What do you do?"

"Uh…a lot of things."

"Are you an assassin?"

"This is not the type of thing I should discuss with a woman…"

"What, are you afraid it will upset me?" Logan asked with a smirk. "I'm not exactly frail and delicate, you know."

Makoto smirked. "I noticed." He sighed. "I am the son of the leader of the Clan Yashida."

Logan's eyebrows shot up.  "You're Shingen Yashida's kid?!"  Makoto nodded.

"Hai."  Logan flopped backwards and groaned.  "What's wrong?" said Makoto anxiously. 

"I can't believe this," Logan muttered.  "It just figures…"

"Logan, have I upset you?"  Logan sighed. 

"Makoto, I…I just wasn't prepared to hear that."

"I cannot help who I am."

"I know," said Logan.  "It's just…I have this bad habit of sleeping with the wrong kind of men—the kind that never give anything back."  Makoto looked down at her.

"Logan, my father does not define who I am.  I made love with you because I think you are charming and beautiful—no other reason."  Logan tried to smile.

"I'm sorry to imply that you weren't being honorable."  He kissed her.

"No harm done, my dear.  Now please, rest."  He turned off the lights and wrapped his arms around Logan, his breathing soon evening out into sleep.  Logan lay awake for a long time, watching the skyline of Tokyo from Makoto's massive window.  This wasn't how it had happened before—this felt good, to be here with someone who wanted her.  She didn't want to leave.  Makoto stirred slightly in his sleep and Logan relaxed.  She didn't have to. 

Logan fell asleep.

 

"Makoto, will you please just tell me what's going on?"

"What, and spoil the surprise my dear?  Not likely."  Logan smiled as Makoto closed his hands over her eyes and guided her into the elevator of his building. 

"Will I like it?"

"I almost guarantee you will."  He kissed the top of her head as he stood behind her. 

"Makoto?"

"Yes, Logan?"  Logan sighed.

"This is the longest I've ever been with anyone."  She cursed herself silently.  She hadn't meant to say it out loud.  And certainly not in an elevator when Makoto was taking her to his penthouse for a romantic evening. 

"Really?"  Logan knew what would come next—angry accusations and resentment.

"Well…yeah."

"Then I am honored."  Makoto didn't give Logan a chance to react—the elevator stopped and he propelled her down the hall to his door, although Logan could have navigated perfectly well by scent.  "Alright—are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, handsome."  Makoto pushed his door wide and took his hands from her eyes.  The first thing Logan saw was an armchair—her armchair.  From her apartment.  There were more things of hers scattered throughout the mostly open space.  In fact, it looked as if everything she owned was now in Makoto's penthouse.  She turned to him.

"What is this?"  He took her hand and kissed it.

"Welcome home."  Logan frowned.

"I have a home."

"You mean that hole in the wall?  My dear, you can't be serious."  Logan pulled her hand away.

"For your information, I liked that hole in the wall.  You had no right to do this, Makoto."  He looked confused.

"But Logan…I thought…"

"Just because we've been dating for a while doesn't make me your property."  Makoto drew himself up, his eyes angry.

"Fine.  If you still don't trust me to treat you with respect, then that is not my problem."  He turned away from her.  "I love you, Logan, but you are a difficult woman." 

"Screw you."  Makoto gave a mirthless laugh.

"Oh yes, because that is a safe way to assure you never actually have to face your feelings for anyone."  He paced towards her, his finger extended.  "You can only run so far and so fast, Logan.  Sooner or later you are going to find yourself a lonely, bitter old woman with no one who cares for you."

Logan knew if it had been anyone other than Makoto she would have cut her losses and taken off, but instead she felt almost wounded.  His words were true—even if she didn't want to admit he was right.  Makoto crossed his arms and looked down at her.  "I am sorry to have offended you.  I'll have a man bring your things back and restore you to your old apartment."

"I'm sorry," said Logan almost inaudibly. 

"What's that?"

"Sorry," said Logan louder.  "I…well…you scared me.  I'm not used to letting myself get close to anyone."  She reached out gently and took his hand.  "I do trust you, Makoto.  I know you're an honorable man."

Makoto reached up and touched her face, drawing her slowly into one of his hot, mind-bending kisses.  "Do you really want to leave?" he whispered.  Logan smiled and kissed him again.

"No.  I'll stay."

 

Logan poked at her lunch with a chopstick. "What was your childhood like?"

Makoto looked up, his eyes betraying surprise at Logan's question. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm curious, I guess."

"My mother died when I was young. I have only my father."

"Oh. Any siblings?"

"Half brother. He's a little crazy. One of those mutants." Logan froze for a moment until Makoto added, "Not that I have a problem with that."

Logan let out the breath she'd been holding.

"It's funny that you would be curious about my family, since they relate to what I wished to discuss with you at lunch this afternoon."

"What's that?"

"I would like you to accompany me to my family's compound in Osaka to meet my father."

Logan started. "You want to bring me home to your father?"

"Yes."

"I…I didn't know I meant that much to you."

Makoto reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "I love you, Logan—more than I ever have any woman in my life."

"I love you, too. I…"

Logan stopped when Makoto got up. He reached behind him, and Logan knew he was reaching for his guns. "Makoto, what's going on?"

"Get down, woman."

Suddenly, Logan felt something hot shoot through her back. She jerked spastically, the bullets pounding thought her. She heard Makoto scream and return fire as she slumped to the ground.

When she came to, Makoto was kneeling on the ground, holding her in his arms. He was looking at her with anguish, her blood covering his designer suit. Logan gave him a tiny smile. "Why so sad, handsome?"

Makoto jumped, dropping her to the ground. Logan hit the floor with a thump. "Uh, ow."

<<You're alive!>> Makoto exclaimed in his native language.

"Yeah," Logan muttered, sitting up. "Takes more than a few dozen rounds of semi-automatic fire to get me down." She looked around the restaurant, seeing the bodies of the men who had shot her laying on the ground. "Aw, honey, you avenged my death."

"How…how is this possible?"

"I'm a mutant. I heal real fast."

Makoto reached down, offering Logan a hand to help her to her feet. <<I thought I'd lost you,>> he said softly.

<<I'm right here.>>

Makoto kissed her passionately.  <<Don't scare me like that again.>>

<<I'd rather not get shot again myself.>>

"Let's go home," said Makoto, holding her close.  Logan nuzzled against his neck.

"Yeah, let's go."

 

Chapter 10.

Just like the sun over the mountain top 

You know I'll always come again 

You know I love to spend my morning time 

Like sunlight dancing on your skin 

I've never gone so wrong as to telling lies to you 

What you've seen is what I've been 

There is nothing I could hide from you 

You see me better than I can 

Out on the road that lies before me now 

There are some turns where I will spin 

I only hope that you can hold me now 

Till I can gain control again 

Like a lighthouse you must stand alone 

Landmark the sailor's journeys end 

No matter what sea I've have been sailing on 

I'll always roll this way again 

Out on the road that lies before me now 

There are some turns where I will spin 

I only hope that you can hold me now 

Till I can gain control again 

"Are you nervous?"  Logan fidgeted next to Makoto in the car.

"Yeah…a little.  I hope your father approves of me."  Makoto was silent for a second.

"You are mine, of course he will approve," he said finally, but his expression had gone serious.

"Something between you and your dad?"

"Just the usual father/son things, my dear.  Don't worry yourself."  The car stopped at the massive gates of the Yashida compound.  "We must walk from here," said Makoto.  "For security reasons."  He helped Logan out of the car.

"Nice place you got here," she said. 

"It dates back to the feudal era, when the Yashida were the daimyos of this province."  He ushered her through a small opening in the gate.  The grounds were palatial, but Logan didn't miss the security cameras and inconspicuous, heavily armed guards strolling through the maples and the rock gardens. 

The Yashida mansion was situated on a high hill, on the edge of cliffs dropping down to the ocean.  A winding rock walkway climbed to the main doors, with smaller buildings set into the hillside.  Makoto kissed her cheek.  "Wait here, my dear.  A maid will come escort you to our room." 

"Where are you going?"

"To pay my respects to Shingen."  He started up the walkway at a brisk pace.  Logan sighed and sat on a garden bench with her bags.  Soon the hot sun beating down got to be too much, and she stood and began to wander the immaculate paths that wound away into other parts of the grounds. 

She walked for a long time, until she found a quiet cove of pine trees to have a cigarette.  Makoto had let her know he wasn't crazy about the habit, but Logan figured what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.  Besides, it wasn't like she was going to drop dead from lung cancer. 

There was a grunt from behind her, and Logan turned to see a small building, barely visible through the trees.  Yells and sounds of pain were emanating from it.  Logan dropped her cigarette and hurried towards the noise.

She had expected a fistfight, or maybe a beating in progress, but she didn't expect to see a stocky Japanese man in a short kimono beating mercilessly on a Yashida clan soldier with a wooden sword.  The soldier finally dropped to one knee, his sword falling by his side and holding up his hands in submission. 

<<Mate, stop>> he gasped.

The man in the kimono sheathed his sword in his belt and bowed formally.  <<You need practice, gohai.>>

<<Yes, Matsuo-san>> the beaten soldier agreed.  He stood and also bowed, then left the dojo.  The man called Matsuo turned and saw Logan before she could duck away. 

<<Who are you?>> he demanded suspiciously. 

"I'm Logan," she answered.  "I'm here with Mokoto Yashida."  Matsuo's frown changed to an expression of contempt. 

"Oh," he said shortly.  "The main house is up the hill."

"He told me to wait while he met with Shingen."

"Lord Shingen," Matsuo corrected her brusquely.  Logan raised an eyebrow.

"Lord Shingen then."  Matsuo turned away and put his practice sword on a rack with many others.  Next to it was a stand with several metal-bladed and gleaming samurai swords.  Even Logan's untrained eye could see they were top-notch blades.

"What do you do here?" she asked, walking over to the rack and running her fingers over the handle of one of the swords.  Matsuo's hand clamped over her wrist and took it away from the blade.

"Don't touch."  Logan gave a growl.

"Same goes for you, pal."  Matsuo's eyebrows went up, but he released her hand.

"You are not like Makoto's other women."  Logan decided to ignore the "other women" part of that sentence.

"Yeah, I'm one of a kind."  Matsuo stared into her eyes for a moment.

"You are a warrior," he pronounced.  Logan blinked.

"Uh…whatever, pal." 

"This is my dojo," said Matsuo, gesturing around.  "Lord Shingen demands that all his soldiers be trained in bushido, traditional samurai arts."  He dropped his arm.  "I usually do not allow gaijin women inside, but you may stay."  Logan's mouth quirked.

"Well gosh, I'm flattered."

"Do you have practice with the sword?"

"Some."

Matsuo handed her a wooden practice sword. "Let me see what you can do, gaijin."

Logan took the sword, bowing to Matsuo. He returned the bow, and then struck.

Logan blocked him easily, her old combat techniques flowing back to her. She matched Matsuo blow for blow, but could not get the better of him.

"Logan!"

Matsuo and Logan both jumped back at the sound of Makoto's voice. Matsuo dropped the sword and bowed to Makoto. <<I am sorry, Lord Makoto.>>

Logan felt almost guilty for a moment. "Did your conversation with your dad go well?"

"It went fine," Makoto said tersely. "Come with me now. You need to change before you meet my father."

"Change?"

"Yes. You need to appear as a proper Japanese woman."

Logan raised an eyebrow at that, but decided to see where this was going. "Um, okay. Let's go." She turned to Matsuo and bowed. <<It was an honor to meet you.>>

Matsuo bowed in return. <<As it was an honor to meet you.>>

 

Logan looked at herself in the mirror. She was dressed in a light blue kimono, tied at her small waist with a white obi. Her hair was gathered in a bun, decorated with a lotus blossom clip. She frowned. That wasn't her reflection.

Makoto came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I wish we were not due at my father's table soon. I would much rather spend the night removing this from your perfect body." He stroked the fabric of the kimono.

Logan felt suddenly self-conscious. "Maybe later, Makoto."

He kissed her neck. "I will hold you to that."

 

Logan had to admit that Shingen Yashida didn't look the way she had expected. She bowed to him. "It is an honor to meet you, Lord Shingen."

He returned the bow tersely. "You are my son's latest conquest, I hear."

Makoto took Logan's hand. "She is the woman I love, father."

<<They are all the one you love when they are your latest whore, Makoto.>>

Makoto bristled. <<She is an honorable woman, father.>>

Shingen snorted.

An older Japanese man entered the room. <<Dinner is served, Lord Shingen.>>

The three of them entered the dining room, Logan careful to remember what the proper dinner table behavior was for a woman in Japan.

<<I do not understand why you continue to dishonor me, my son. Every woman you have brought into my home is a gaijin whore. Why can you not marry a woman from one of my allied clans—make a profitable marriage?>>

<<I will only marry a woman I love, father.>>

<<You love only what is between her legs.>>

Logan had heard enough. <<It isn't very nice to say things like that at the dinner table,>> she growled.

Shingen's eyes widened slightly. <<You speak Japanese.>>

<<I get by.>>

He gave her a saccharine smile. <<Then accept my apologies for speaking against your honor.>>

<<They are accepted,>> Logan said, mimicking Shingen's plastic smile.  He picked up his chopsticks and began eating the first course.  Makoto slid his hand over Logan's, giving a silent apology.  Logan pulled it away and began to eat. 

 

Logan stood in the middle of Matsuo's dojo, clad only in light cotton gi pants and a Toronto Maple Leafs t-shirt.  Matsuo was sitting at the edge of the room, his legs folded under him as he watched her.

<<Again.>> he said.  Logan nodded slightly, going back to the ready position and then lashing out with the bright steel blade she held.  She had been living in the Yashida compound for nearly four months, and in that time Matsuo had trained her well in the art of bushido. 

Logan finished, breathing heavily.  Makoto would have a fit if he found her here, doing something that was decidedly improper for the lover of the heir of Clan Yashida.  But he was in Tokyo overseeing business, and Shingen rarely left the main house except to meet with the heads of his allied clans.  Matsuo stood.

<<Mate.  What troubles you, Logan-san?>>  Logan set her sword carefully back on the rack.

<<Nothing, sempai.  I'm sorry to appear distracted.>>  Matsuo inclined his head.

<<A warrior with her head in the clouds is asking to lose it.>>  Logan smiled.

"I'm hard to kill, remember?"  Matsuo's mouth twitched, the closest he ever got to smiling.

<<Do not become arrogant, Logan-san.>>  He bowed to her.  <<You are dismissed for today.>>  Logan bowed low and left the dojo to clean herself up for Makoto's return. 

 

Logan smiled when she heard Makoto enter their apartments, but her face quickly fell. She sniffed the air, wanting to make sure she was correct.

The cheap scent of heavy, artificial jasmine. It was not her scent. Far from it. She stormed into the other room, her eyes wild. "Where the fuck have you been and who have you been with?" she screamed at Makoto.

He took a step back. "I'm happy to see you, too," he said with a frown.

"Don't get smart with me! I can smell her all over you. Who was she?"

"Logan, it isn't what you think, I…"

"Don't give me that shit! What, was I just another 'conquest' for you, someone to keep in your bed like a good little girl while you went out and got your kicks elsewhere?"

Makoto sighed. "Logan, I don't have the energy to 'get my kicks' elsewhere. You are more woman than even I can handle."

Logan ripped the lotus clip from her hair, throwing it at Makoto. He dodged, and the clip fell to the ground behind them. "You're just like all the other men!" Logan yelled. "You're using me just like the rest!"

"No! I didn't want to meet with her, I promise! My father made me."

"What, is he your pimp?"

"I didn't sleep with her!" Makoto explained. "Logan, please—I love you."

Logan clasped her hands over her ears. "I don't want to hear anymore of your lies!" She turned and started to run from the room.

"Logan, wait! I don't want to marry her—I want to marry you!"

Logan stopped at that. She turned slowly, looking back across the room at Makoto. "You want to what?"

"Marry you—make you my wife." He pulled a small box from his jacket pocket. "I was going to wait for a more romantic moment, but…"

Logan blinked.  "Why…?"  Makoto opened the box and handed it to her.  A delicate diamond ring rested on a velvet bed.

"Logan, my father wants me to marry the daughter of the lord of his allied clan.  He made me meet with her today.  I'm sorry I didn't tell you but…"  He smiled wryly.  "I was afraid of a reaction like this."  Logan took the box, still at a loss for words.

"Is she pretty?"

"She's repugnant," said Makoto.  He took the ring and slid it onto Logan's finger.  "But you are beautiful.  Marry me."  Logan wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug.

"Okay."  Makoto struggled for breath for a moment, then just let Logan hold him.  She looked into his eyes. 

"I love you, Makoto."

"And I you, Logan."

 

The next morning, Logan was on her way to Matsuo's, creeping quietly past the main room of the mansion, when she heard raised voices coming from behind the shoji screens—Makoto's and Shingen's.  Logan stopped, feeling slightly guilty, but the way they were yelling, she didn't even need her enhanced hearing. 

<<How could you disrespect Asano's daughter like that?!>> Shingen shouted at his son.

<<I bear no love towards that woman, father.  She dishonors the Yashida name.>>

<<Hold your tongue, boy!>> Shingen paced angrily.  <<Someone such as yourself does not marry for love, Mokoto.  They marry to bring glory to their clan.  If you cannot accept this fact then I will force you to!>>

<<You cannot order me to do something my heart is against, father.>>  Shingen exploded.

<<Where is your respect, you ungrateful whelp?!  How dare you speak to me in this manner?!>>  Makoto's voice was cold and tight.

<<I am not you, Shingen, and I do not do as tradition dictates.  I will marry the woman I love, and you cannot stop me.>>

<<Then you will never lead Clan Yashida, boy!  I will see to it!>>

<<Don't be so sure of that, father.>>

<<Are you threatening me?>>

<<If you try to stop my marriage to Logan, then yes.  You will regret it.>>

<<Then you go with your whore, Makoto.  You have dishonored yourself and your clan.>>

<<So be it, father.>>

<<Leave my sight!>> Shingen snapped.

<<Gladly!>> said Makoto, throwing open the screen and storming out into the hallway.  He stopped short as he saw Logan. 

"Oh no…I am sorry you had to hear that."  Logan half-smiled.

"It's okay…I understand I'm not your father's dream girl for his only honorable son."  Makoto chuckled dryly.

"No longer honorable, apparently."  Makoto put his arm around her shoulders and led her back towards their apartments.  "It does not matter, Logan.  When I am head of the clan, I can do as I please and they will be forced to accept you."  Logan was relieved he was too upset to notice she was dressed in a gi instead of her customary kimono. 

 

Logan answered the door to Shingen's majordomo. He bowed low, handing Logan a note. "Lord Shingen requests that you join him for tea."

Logan frowned. She wasn't dumb enough to think this was anything but a set up. She looked at the note, reading that he would expect her there in three hours—shortly after Makoto was scheduled to make a business trip in town. "Tell him I will be there."

The majordomo bowed and then scurried off.

Logan sat on a mat in front of the window and began to meditate. She'd have to be centered when she faced Shingen.

 

"Logan, I am honored by your presence."

Logan bit her tongue, fighting the urge to tell him she knew he was full of shit. "I am honored by your request to meet with me, Lord Shingen."

"Please, sit at my table."

Logan did as he requested. She'd take things slowly, keeping her eyes open for any traps.

"I am sorry for the way in which I have treated you," Shingen said. "If my son says you are a woman with honor, I should listen." He smiled. "I reacted badly. I am just a man who loves his son, and wants the best for him. I believed that would be a proper Japanese wife, but now I realize that he will not be happy unless he is with the woman he loves."

A woman came in and poured tea for both of them. Shingen raised the cup. "Let us drink to your impending marriage."

Logan raised the cup, discretely sniffing it in a check for poisons. She smelled nothing but the distinctive aroma of green tea. She took a drink.

As soon as the hot tea hit her throat, Logan knew something was wrong.  The taste was bitter and strangely stale, but it was too late.  The corrupted liquid poured into her stomach as Shingen watched and smiled. 

"Matsuo has informed me of your unique talents, Logan, but fortunately my agents are very resourceful.  This is an ancient poison, scentless and said to cause instant death."  Logan's vision began to blur and Shingen's voice came from a long tunnel.  She tried to speak, move, anything, but blackness closed in around her, and Logan slumped to the floor before she could move a muscle. 

Logan came to in a tiny, windowless room.  She was lying on her side on a tatami mat that was stained with blood.  Her blood.  Her muscles felt like they were on fire and she retched as her body fought the poison.

<<She's awake>> said a harsh voice from over her.  Logan recognized it as one of the gun-toting guards that constantly patrolled Shingen's estate.

<<Not for long,>> said another.  <<Lord Shingen's orders are for her death.>>  Logan was hauled to her feet and one of the thugs drove his fist into her face.  By the pain, Logan could tell it wasn't the first time.  Blood dripped into her eyes and her vision was hazy.  She wasn't feeling the familiar sensation of her healing factor compensating for her injuries.  It was overloaded by the poison.

Logan knew she was going to die if she let them hit her much longer.  They had already nearly beaten the life out of her.  The thug drew his fist back for another hit, and Logan's foot swept out, catching him in the groin.  He howled and doubled over. 

She drove her head backwards into the one holding her, hitting his chin.  He released her, and Logan turned on the prone one, grabbing his neck and snapping it with a quick twist.  The other she left lying on the floor, using the last of her strength to pull herself out of the room and towards safety.

 

Logan drug herself towards the dojo, her injuries beginning to heal. She stumbled into the door, finding Matsuo meditating. "You…you sold me out."

Matsuo let out a slow, deep breath. "I am loyal to my clan, Logan-san."

"Shingen has no honor, Matsuo. He tricked me—poisoned me—then sent his thugs to beat me to death. If you serve him, you have no honor of your own."

Matsuo rose slowly, approaching his collection of swords. He drew the one from the top, then brought it to Logan, placing it in her hand. "This sword was given to me by my master when I first completed my training. It had been given to him by his master. Use it with honor."

Logan bowed. "I will."

Logan went back to the apartments she shared with Makoto, tearing off her bloodied kimono and replacing them with jeans and a t-shirt. She laced up her boots and took the last of the pins out of her hair.

Shingen would not live to see the morning.

 

Shingen sat in disbelief, as the bloody bodyguard in front of him told him the gaijin woman had escaped and killed another one of his men. 

<<Find her!  She can't have gotten far!>> he raged.  Another bodyguard came running in as the other one was leaving.

<<Lord Shingen, the gaijin is waiting in the main hall!>> he cried.  Shingen drew in his breath. 

<<She dares to challenge me…>> he murmured. 

<<Sir?>>  Shingen went to his wall and took down his favorite katana. 

<<Tell her I am coming for her.>>

 

Logan stood at the end of the great main hall of the Yashida mansion, watching as Shingen emerged from the other end.  His bald head was a fiery red with rage, and he pointed his katana at her.

"You are not worthy to be with my son, in my house and especially not worthy to challenge a warrior such as myself!"  Logan's mouth curved upwards.

"A false sense of honor doesn't make you worthy, bub."  She stepped forward and bowed formally.

"You have no honor, woman!" he spat.  Logan's eyes narrowed.

"Maybe so, but I'm still better than a worm like you."  Shingen slashed forward with his sword and Logan met him.  Shingen was a skilled samurai, but Matsuo had trained Logan well.  She fought with perfect concentration, meeting Shingen blow for blow.  Neither of them had managed to shed the blood of the other.

Logan and Shingen's katanas locked at the hilt, and Logan pushed away from him, panting.  For an old man, he was fast and tenacious as they came.  He lunged again, and Logan sidestepped to slash at his stomach, but Shingen suddenly spun and cut her across the knuckles.  Logan gave a cry of pain, Matsuo's katana spinning out of her grasp. 

Shingen had her on her knees, towering over her with his sword raised.  "So much for you, gaijin," he smirked.  "My son is going to be so very disappointed when he finds his whore has abandoned him without so much as a goodbye.  I will make it look very convincing."  Logan growled.

"He won't believe you."

"Oh but he will…because you are the same as all the others who have left him before.  Little more than female animals." 

Red dropped over Logan's vision.  No matter what she did, where she went, they all saw her as an animal.  She could never just be Logan.  She was different.  She was the Wolverine. 

She was an animal.

Wolverine let out an enraged cry as her claws extended and she drove them deep into Shingen's thigh before he could bring his sword down.  He screamed in pain, blood spurting from his wound.  Logan leapt up and at him, her adamantium talons finding flesh again and again.

She drove Shingen back to the wall of the mansion, ignoring the cuts from his sword that landed on her body.  She had no control, no way to hold back the indescribable urge to kill that boiled up from inside her. 

And she didn't want to. 

Shingen raised his sword once  more, his face holding more terror than anything else as he attempted to fend off Logan's furious assault.  Logan slashed his wrist, and the sword fell to the ground.  Shingen screamed and doubled over.  Logan held him up, retracting her claws as she growled into his face.

"Am I worthy now, Shingen?"  He spat on her. 

"You are not even human."  Logan smiled grimly. 

"And you're a dead man."  She raised her balled fist.  Shingen glared at her. 

"I am not afraid of death!"

Logan smiled at him, then extended her two middle claws directly into the crime lord's eyes.  There was a wet squelch, and Shingen fell to the floor.

"Good," Logan said, before walking out of the hall. 

 

"Logan!"

Logan looked up, her face paling at Makoto's voice. What had he seen?

He ran to her, wrapping his arms around her. "Are you all right? I came home and found you gone, and I was so worried." He showered her face with kisses.

Logan pulled away. "Makoto…I…I just killed your father."

"I know. I watched the whole thing." He stroked her cheek, and Logan shuddered, realizing that he now had his own father's blood on his hand. "It's all right, Logan. I am now head of the Clan Yashida."

"But he was your father."

"He was never a real father to me," Makoto spat. "Come, Logan. You are sure to need rest."

Logan was too shaken to argue. She let him lead her back to their home.

 

Logan noticed a change in Makoto as soon as they were out from the shadow of Shingen. He relaxed considerably, and Logan was surprised to hear him actually laugh.

"I think we should be married by the sea," Makoto said, holding Logan close to him.

She smiled, her eyes closed as she relished the feel of being in her lover's arms. "That sounds lovely, Makoto."

Makoto kissed her lightly. "You have brought a light to my life, Logan. I can never thank you enough for that."

"You've already done more than enough. You love me, Makoto. That's more than anyone's ever given me."

Makoto held her closer. "I will love you until I die, Logan-chan."

 

Logan smiled across the table at Makoto. He smiled back, and she felt warmth spread throughout her from her heart.

Suddenly, Logan heard something wiz through the air, and Makoto slumped forward.

"Makoto!" Logan yelled, jumping to her feet and running to her lover. She pulled his head into her lap. "Makoto…"

<<Logan…I am dying…>>

<<No! You can't die on me! You can't leave me!>>

She reached up and pulled the dart from his neck. She recognized the markings. The Hand. Her eyes filled with tears. "No…"

<<Logan, please, take me by the ocean. I want to see it as I die.>>

<<You're not going to die. There's gotta be an antidote.>>

<<There's no time to find one. Please, Logan…>>

He closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. Logan drug him as best she could from the building, taking him outside so he could see the ocean. Makoto smiled weakly.

<<I regret that you never got the chance to become my wife. I…I always imagined us together until we were great-grandparents…>>

Logan's tears fell down her cheeks. <<I love you so much…>> she said, her voice barely audible.

Makoto writhed in pain in her lap. <<I do not want to die like this.>> He took her hand, placing it against his stomach. <<Please, my love, allow me to die honorably.>>

Logan froze at what he was suggesting. <<No, Makoto…I can't.>>

He cried out. <<Please! If you love me, you will!>>

Logan kissed him lightly on the lips one last time. <<I will always love you.>>

<<And I will always love you.>>

Logan roared into the night sky.

*SNIKT*