Loreli
by
Byte



Male and female, they were created... this is the last story in the "Tigress" trilogy where Logan heads home with more pain then he had started out with. It is rated R for some adult content.

The world of Logan and the X-Men are the property of Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox. The rest of the characters and I were just visiting for fun and not profit.






Logan settled more comfortably on the bike, ready to let the miles unwind all the tension and grief of the last week. He hoped never to set foot in Alkali Lake, Canada, again. Not that he was abandoning the search for his past, now it was more important then ever for his own sake as well as the memory of Loreli. But investigating government and military records as she had suggested would require a lot of research and he could think of no better place to do that then back Professor Charles Xavier's School for "Gifted" Students, a.k.a. mutants.

What was it with these women? They were coming out of no where to totally turn his life upside down when he was really just trying to mind his own business. First there had been Marie... which lead to Jean Gray and the "X-Men", and now there had been Loreli. The X-Men had completely changed his life as a mutant; and just when he thought he was back on his own path again, Loreli rewrote the whole book.

Jean would have been thrilled for him and they would have been one big, happy X-Men family: Jean and "Cyclops", Logan and Loreli. He never even had the chance to ask, but he was sure she would have wanted to come back with him. Professor, this is Loreli. Stick her in your x-ray machine and you'll see she's got a skeleton and claws just like me, and she knows how to use them. She was more then he ever dreamed of with her incredibly intriguing, enticing natural scent, and the way that throaty voice of hers turned him on. He relished how teaching her to experience her heightened senses made making love move heaven and earth. At least it did that one night they had together.

Loreli... now she would have looked good in the X-Men black leather with her long, luscious dark hair tossed wildly about her shoulders. The wind whipped the tears away as he tortured himself with images of what it would have been like to slowly unzip her uniform. And then she would slowly unzip his. The leather would fall forgotten on to the bear rug (no way could they leave that behind). A nice hot shower would be next... like the one they had shared that morning.

He thought he would sleep a little longer after she had gotten up, but smell of soap blending with her saucy scent was too hard to resist. He would never forget the image of her in the swirling steam with the running warm water creating a slick sheen on her body. How devilishly delicious were the new slippery sensations for her to amplify all her senses on. Totally unaware of the rifle aimed at his heart, he was just soaping down her back and nibbling on her neck when a bullet blasted through him. He barely had enough control to aim the bike for the side of the road, thinking that whoever had shot him was going to be very, very sorry they did.

Dudley Jr tossed Logan's pack aside, hauled his badly broken body over to his truck and heaved him up into the back. The freak was a lot heavier then he looked. He felt vindicated as he watched some of the minor cuts and bruises quickly disappear before his very eyes. He knew it! He knew there had been something up with this guy when he saw them huddled together outside the bar the other night. Best of all, he had gotten a quick look at those weird blades on both sets of hands, but Dad didn't believe him. Said it was impossible and called him an idiot again. Now he had proof that Tigress was alive and she wasn't the only one of her kind. And Dad would be proud that he gotten the other one before he got away.

He turned back to the bike smashed in the snow and debated about taking it. It looked like it was worth a lot of money, but it would take some doing to dig it out and he wanted to be sure to get the freak locked down before he woke up. He decided to come back for it later because he couldn't wait to get home and show Dad. He would show him he had nothing to worry about now.





Deep down in the darkness a hoarse, husky, hurting voice called out his name, "Logan..."

Dancing with death had completely cleared Loreli's mind. She knew who she was, what had happened and that Logan was in danger. Dudley Jr looked exactly like his father, Dr. William Dudley and it wouldn't take him long to make the connection. And once Dudley figured out who Logan was...

How could she have forgotten it all? It must have been some sort of post-hypnotic suggestion to wipe everything out if something ever happened to her. She was Special Agent Loreli Hughs of the CIA. She had volunteered for Project Felix, as in Felix the Cat, with the claws. She hadn't been brutally experimented on as Logan had been. It had been a surgical procedure, albeit a difficult one and would not have been possible without her healing factor. The original design consisted of just the claws and using the adamantium to reinforce the bones of her arms and shoulders to support them. The idea of grafting it to the rest of her skeleton, making her virtually indestructible, came later once the blades proved successful.

Felix had been the brainchild of Dr. Dudley and it was all part of the plan for a special joint operation with the military. But what was Dudley doing up in Alkali Lake? Looking for her because she never arrived? She was on her way and had crossed the Canadian border when the plane went down.

And how did Logan fit into all of this? She never even knew he existed before now and she was sure she would have known about him if he had been a part of Felix. Whoever he was, he obviously hadn't volunteered and Dr. Dudley would never have operated on him so cruelly like that. No, it had to have been someone else. Some sort of underground group must have gotten a hold of the Felix design and found their own mutant to try it out on. Then it hit her. Had she been sent up here to destroy the enemy, and him?

Logan, the enemy? No way! No way could that flirtatious, feral, impulsive, incredibly sexy, rough and rugged man with a heart of gold, be the enemy. She was glad now that her plane had gone down if it meant that it had somehow saved him. No one in her entire life ever thrilled her to her very bones- literally. She swore it felt like the adamantium itself was vibrating from the exquisite energy that flowed between them time and time again that night. It made all the other nights with her husband, Captain Jack Hughs of the US Air Force, pale by comparison.

Oh God... Jack. How could she have forgotten the love of her life? And her parents? She had a husband and family to go back to... but it wouldn't be the same. After 15 years with no past to fall back on, she had created a new life for herself and was a completely different person. She was carefree, independent, and much more suited to the wild and woolly Logan. Gone was the by-the-book agent who shared her life with the conservative, patriotic Jack. Surely, he would have gone on with his life after all this time? But she owed it to him, her family and herself to see what had been left behind before she could go forward. In the mean time, Logan had to be warned.

She took a deep breath to blow out the pain. Everything was on fire, but that meant she was healing and would get out of here soon. She felt a cross breeze not too high above her which had to be a tunnel close by and a hell of a lot better then having to climb all the way back up. Yes, she could personally attest to the fact that it had been a long, long way down. If it hadn't been for the adamantium, the fall would have broken every bone in her body. Skin and muscle, however, were a different story. She was probably nothing more then a bloody pulp at the bottom of the shaft.

Ick. She needed to focus on something else and she imagined Logan's strong, soft, and sooo skillful hands soothing away the wounds. His tongue was a talented treat that brought her to the edge even before they had gotten his jeans off. It got a little awkward after that then as though she was demanding too much and she couldn't understand why that was wrong. But then all of a sudden, it clicked for him and they really rocked the rest of the night.

She took another deep breath from the memory of his musky masculine scent she savored so much. She would give anything now to feel those naughty nibbles on her ear and down her throat while his fingers did other tantalizing things.. Oh, and the sounds he made when she discovered his sensitive spots: earlobes, nape of the neck that he cracked a lot, between the shoulder blades, nipples, the last rib on the right side (but not the left), his cute little outie belly button, the area over the appendix... and just about everything else below that point. It went back and forth between purrs of pleasure to gasping growls depending on what she did to each heightened hot zone. His control and recovery were mind boggling and the releases were sensually soul shattering.

She remembered how she woke up first to find him still stretched out on his back in all his glory while she was snuggled up against him. He had warned her that the nightmares made him a restless sleeper, but they hadn't moved much and he was out like a light. A smoldering sexuality seemed to shimmer off his skin in the morning light. She couldn't resist tracing a line, ever so lightly, through the soft, silky hair of his chest all the way down to his prized prowess, which was- my God- really reacting to a pleasant dream. He stirred slightly and she pulled back not wanting to disturb him.

She had eased her head up out of the crook of his arm to study his face. More adjectives came to mind: troubled, tortured, tenderhearted, titillating. His mouth fell open as he exhaled, giving her an undeniable dose of reality, morning breath! Ah yes, the cigar smoking... definitely not one of her favorite smells. She remembered feeling kind of relieved as he was getting to be almost too good to be true. He needed a few imperfections to put the humanity back into his larger then life mutant superiority.

Virile, volatile... what a strange dichotomy he represented. He loved a good fight as much as he loved good sex. Most victims of torture lived in a world of unfathomable fear and have severe problems with any physical contact; and yet he lived for it, heightened senses and all. He must have been a remarkable man before the Felix operation to retain such a sense of self and a heart of gold under the anger. She hoped someday he would remember who he was, but wasn't so sure it was a good idea to find out the who and the why behind the pain.

Oh God, Logan, I hope you took off, she thought. I hope you didn't start nosing around here. She was banking on the fact that he would have gotten the hell out of here once he had pulled himself together. She just hoped he hadn't smashed up her place too badly in the process...





The sting of a knife across the back of his hand woke Logan up. He was chained down to a cot in some sort of shed. With his arms stretched out, palms down and tightly tethered at the wrists, the claws were useless. He could just barely feel the taut chain under his fingers and had no other freedom of movement. Did they plan it that way or was it just dumb luck on their part that he wouldn't be able to slash anything or at the idiot with the knife? Somehow he wasn't too surprised to see Dudley the bartender and the behind him the old man, looking as though he had seen a ghost.

They watched as the cut healed almost instantly.

"See? I told you, just like her. Look at him- no bruises or nothing. You'ld never know he had wiped out on a bike a couple of days ago."

"They lied to me..." the old man hissed. "Slice it open, I want to see the arm." Dudley pulled the sleeve of Logan's shirt up and ran the knife under the whole length of it. The flannel fell away, revealing the powerful limb lurching against the links.

"Move!" The old man pushed Dudley aside for a closer look. He poked and prodded Logan's arm until he found what he wanted. Pinching a nerve, he pressed down on a muscle. One blade popped out involuntarily.

Logan gasped. He didn't know anyone could do that. "How the hell-" he hissed but the old man cut him off.

"They lied to me! Told me you had been a failure. Said their damned "Weapon X" was a failure and pulled out without paying me."

"Who the hell are you?" Logan demanded, but the old man wasn't listening.

"They told me the design was flawed and that you never survived the procedure, and they had gotten rid of the body."

"Who?! What procedure?!"

"I told them to save the body so I could see what went wrong. They had two of you with that damned healing factor, but the other one was so much bigger then you and harder to control. It would have taken too much adamantium to cover him. But they wouldn't give me a chance to see what went wrong and correct it. They were gone! Everything! All gone by the time I got up here!"

"Who, damn it?"

"Millions, they promised me millions and they were gone! Completely abandoned as though it never existed. I knew once Loreli disappeared, my government would close the Project and there would be no trace of it. I was safe, but they never paid me! I risked everything, everything for them and they never paid me!"

"Who didn't pay you?"

Ignoring him, the old man studied the arm again. "Retract it."

"I can't! I can't feel my fingers- your brilliant son, here, cut off the circulation."

"Exactly." He turned around and headed for the door. "I'ld still shoot him again. Once you release one of those chains, you're dead."

"Wait!" Logan roared. "Who are they and who am I?!"

"You are evidence."

"Whatta I do with him, Dad?" Dudley asked.

"Get rid of the evidence," the old man mumbled as he shuffled out.

"Wait!" Logan cried out again, straining against the chains.

"Oh, and you might as well just cut the head off," Dr. Dudley said over his shoulder. "He'ld probably still recover from anything else."

"Okay, Dad, I'll take care of it." Dudley watched the old man go back into the house without so much as word of what a good job he had done or anything. "Shit..." he swore under his breath as he picked up the rifle by the door.

"Sure, take the easy way out, bub." Logan goaded, trying to get him to slip up. "You're too cowardly to take me on. No wonder you don't get any respect from the old man. You can't even-"

"Shut up..." Dudley aimed for the heart and fired. The claw retracted automatically when Logan lost consciousness.





When Logan opened his eyes again to a vision of Loreli, he thought he had died and gone to heaven. "Logan, wake- oh good. Damn, it took you long enough to come around. I thought I just heard the one shot, you know? And-"

Before she could do or say anything else, he sprang up and crushed her to his heart, kissing her so sweetly and deeply as though the most precious gift in the world had been given back to him. It wasn't until he released her that he saw the shadow of someone else in her eyes. In one fell swoop, he plummeted from a crescendo of joy back down to the familiar depths of loss. He gave her a quick once over to see if she was really all right before looking around anxiously.

They were outside at a woodpile by the shed. Dudley was down on the ground with an ax in his hand and three precision puncture marks through his back.

Loreli saw the hurt in his eyes, but it couldn't be helped. "Logan, you know, you and I..."

Instant flashback. Not too long ago, another lovely lady had that same look in her eyes and had said the same thing. Tell her my heart belongs to someone else. You know, you and I... Damn, he hated it when history repeated itself. He curtly cut her off before she could finish. "Where's the old man?"

That caught her off guard, but before she could ask him who he was talking about, Logan spotted the house and bolted for it. He kicked down the door with Loreli hot on his heels.

They found him the study with a knife in his hand. The other was clenching a chain. She had a split second to see how Dr Dudley had neatly slit his throat before Logan hauled him out of the chair and started throttling him. "Tell me what you know, old man, or I swear I'll beat it out of you!"

"Logan, wait!" The feeble frame flopped in his hands like a rag doll. The knife and the Tigress tags fell to the floor. "My chain!" Loreli assumed Logan had taken it.

"You gonna tell me, old man, or make it hard on yourself, cause I can make it real hard on you," he vented volatily.

"Stop, damn it! He's already dead! Let go of him!" She shouted and tried to grab one of his arms, but he shook her off. She couldn't believe he had built up so much fury so fast. He was even more enraged then he had been at the compound and she wondered what it would take to stop him.

She heard the sound of bone breaking and that decided it. "All right, buddy boy, that's it!" Snikt. She popped her claws out and slashed him hard across the back, .

Logan shrieked, arching his back at the unanticipated attack and dropped the body.

"I'm sorry I had to do that, Logan, he's dead. He's gone." He straightened and she thought she heard a scornful snarl as he cracked his neck.

He turned on her with such pain and anger that she shrunk back. "Lady, don't you ever do that to me again," he seethed, stalking out.

She found him waiting by her all-terrain truck, looking hesitant and heartbroken. Giving him time to cool down, she had retrieved her chain and made a quick search of the house for any other information. Nothing. If there had been any evidence, it was gone now.

"Sorry. I guess I kinda lost it up there. I thought I had lost you and then I saw it in your eyes- someone else."

"I know."

"And the old man had the answers. He knew who I was and who did this to me, but I guess I've lost that too..." Loreli took him in her arms like a mother would a child. At first, he resisted, but finally he relented and hugged her back, as a friend and not a lover. "I'm so glad you're okay," he whispered.





They headed for the highway, hoping the bike was still there. Loreli wanted him to go back to her place to rest and eat, but he really wanted to just get going and she couldn't blame him. They both knew it would be too hard for him to leave once he set foot back in that cabin and on the bear rug.

On the way there, she filled him in on everything she remembered and he told her about the old man rantings of not getting paid. She had no idea who this other group was. All she knew was that Dr. Dudley had gone to Canada to get the adamantium. If he had actually sold Project Felix to some paramilitary or opposing force, that would have been treason.

"How did you know where to find me?" Logan asked, trying to withdraw from her by staring out the window.

"I didn't. I went back to the cabin to clean up and everything and saw you had already packed up and left. I figured you were safe and sound on your way home, you know, so I went looking for Dr. Dudley. Something wasn't right with the glass broken on the door since you knew where the key was, but nothing had been stolen, so it wasn't a random break in. The chain was gone, but I thought you had it."

"I couldn't," Logan sighed, shaking his head. "I couldn't take it."

She nodded in understanding and then threw up her hands. "I don't know, woman's intuition? I just had this feeling I had to get out there but I didn't think it was to save your sorry ass. And it's a good thing I did because your head was on the chopping block!"

The smiles and the chuckles lapsed into a stilted silence. The common comment hung heavy in the air between them. Normally, Logan would have said something like, what would I do without you, but that would have been more painful then playful. The comfortable closeness they had before was gone.

"Damn!" Loreli swore, slapping the steering wheel. "I wasn't even going to say anything."

"What, and pretend everything was still the same? You couldn't hide it, lady, even if you tried. It was already there in your eyes..."

They found his pack and the bike buried under the snow. It had some scratches and dents, but it powered up perfectly. Logan knew that it would have taken more then one little accident to damage anything "Cyclops" had built.

Logan put the kick-stand down and got off the bike to get his pack. Loreli picked it up, brushed the snow off and handed it to him, unable to hide the tears.

"Hey, hey," he cooed consolingly as he put the pack down and took her in his arms. "It sounds like you had a great life, it will be good for you to go back."

"This is my life, you know? It won't be the same."

"This wouldn't be the same either." He held on to her as she cried it all out, but he was combating conflicting emotions. My God, she was alive! And he was happy for her, but a secret little selfish part of him liked it better when she was dead. At least then she had been all his and her memory had been pure and precious. Now he was loosing her to someone else. My God, she was alive and he had to walk away. "I have to go."

She looked up at him, lips trembling, and he knew what she was going to say. No, no, no, he didn't want to hear it in that hushed, husky voice he was going to sorely miss.

"Logan, you know I'll always love you and I-" He cut her off with a final kiss.

Finally, she pulled back, but he held on to her frozen hands. "You know your hands wouldn't be so cold if you wore gloves."

"You don't."

"Damn right I don't." Gallantly, he brought her hands to his lips and kissed the knuckles where the blades came out. "That wouldn't be macho and I am a macho man."

She couldn't help but smile at his bravado, which made turning away easier. Always leave them laughing... In one fluid motion, he slung the pack over his shoulders, got on the bike and roared off. It was also best to leave before he said anything stupid, like how much he would always love her...



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