Disclaimer: Lena, Caleb, Annie, assorted bar patrons and fastfood clerks are the products of my fevered imagination. Everyone else in the story is property of Marvel. Uncredited song lyrics are from the Golden Palominos.
"So jou're an X-Man now?"
"I guess so. Or maybe I'm an X-Woman. Do they do that?"
"I don't think so. I think you're an X-Man."
"Yeah, I think you're right."
"So what now? Jou gotta pick a code name and get a uniform?"
"Yeech, don't remind me."
"What, you can't think of a code name?"
"Well, no actually, I can't think of one. But I was talking about the uniform."
"What," He grinned at her, "you don't like the colors?"
"Very funny. Like the whole world needs to be able to tell whether or not it's cold outside by looking at my chest. And anyway, I don't care how well insulated the damn thing is; it still won't stop a bullet. I'm gonna wear my flak jacket over it and if they don't like it, they can kiss my spandex-covered ass."
"Come on, you know you want to be a part of the attack of the swimsuit models."
"Oh yeah, like I'm even in that league. Have you seen Jean in her uniform?"
"God yeah."
"I know. It's enough to make me question my sexual orientation. On the other hand, with her and Storm and Rogue around, I don't know why I'm worried; it's not like anyone's gonna be lookin' at me."
"Oh, come on, Lanie. Don't sell yourself short. You're a good looking woman."
"Well thanks, Cay. It's sweet of ya to say."
"Guys look at you, Lanie. Believe me. I mean I know at least one guy's gonna be pretty happy to see you in tight clothes." He nudged at her with his shoulder.
"Yeah, you'd think that wouldn't you." She answered glumly.
"Jesus Christ!" Caleb stopped in his tracks in exasperation. "What the hell is wrong now?"
"Nothing. It's nothing. Everything's fine."
He heaved a deep sigh. "I though everything was worked out wit' you two. I thought you were together."
"Well we are and we're not."
"What?"
"Aw, Caleb, I don't know. This isn't exactly my area of expertise. It's justI mean he's great, really. He's been a perfect gentleman."
"A perfect gentleman?"
"Yeah."
"The short, hairy guy who looks at you like you're a food item?"
"Looks at me like I'm a what?"
"Nothing," he waved his hand dismissively, "forget I said it. So, gentleman, that's good, right?"
"Oh yeah, it's great. I'm sure he's just waiting for the rightumsomething before he y'know"
"Makes a move?"
"Yeah, either that or he's come to the conclusion that I'm a freak among freaks and hasn't found a nice way to let me down easy."
"Aw, Lanie, you gotta be kidding me. Don't tell me you believe that."
"I don't really know what to believe, Caleb. Like I said, I don't know much about this stuff. It just feels like something should have happened by now."
"Jesus, you really do believe it. Lena, that man is crazy about you. If he's being a gentleman, it's probably because he doesn't want to scare you." Caleb shifted nervously. "Maybe he got some bad advice from somebody who was just trying to help."
"Caleb! You did not talk to him about me, did you?"
He made the mistake of meeting her gaze. At this point in his life, he had accepted the fact that he would never be able to lie straight to her face. So he went with bluster which was number two on his little brother list of blame avoidance tactics. "Oh, like you were doing so well on your own. I knew the first night we came here that you two were gonna be a thing. That was months ago and you two still aren't together."
Bluster wasn't working this time. "I can't believe you did that."
"Look I'm sorry. I told him to take it easy 'cause I figured it was too much for you. It's okay, I can fix it."
"Oh no, don't you dare. I don't want you saying one word to him about this."
"No, no, I'm not gonna talk to him. I'm just gonna tell you what you should do."
"Oh this oughta be good."
"It's simple. You gotta make the first move 'cause he's waiting for some sort of cue from you. Only you can't because you're nervous because, I don't know, you've been sucking down too many fumes in Henry's lab and now you got this crazy idea in your head that Logan might not be attracted to you."
"Okay, that's not advice, that's you picking on me."
"I'm getting to the advice part. Jou wanna hear it or not."
"Yeah sure, why not. Romantic advice from a seventeen-year-old, that's what my life has come to."
"You need to build up your confidence. Ask Jean where a good salon is and go get something done that makes you feel pretty. I don't know, your hair or your nails or something and get something pretty to wear. I mean you really don't do much to dress yourself up."
"You think that's the problem? You think he doesn't like the way I dress?"
"I think he'd like you if you were dressed in a garbage bag. But we're not worried about him; we're worried about you."
"Huh?"
"This isn't about whether or not he thinks you're attractive; this is about whether or not you think you're attractive. So you are going to go pamper yourself in a salon and then you are going to put on some of your pretty new clothes and then you are going to go somewhere nice and flirt with a stranger."
"Oh and I'm the one who's been sucking fumes."
"It'll work; trust me. You'll make some guy's day and it'll fill you with confidence. You'll come back here and look Logan straight in the eyes and say, 'Take me you big, hairy man-beast.' And that'll be that. Problem solved."
She tried to hold on to the disapproving stare but she couldn't maintain it in the face of that last line. They erupted in laughter at about the same moment. "Aw Jesus, Caleb. How am I supposed to stay mad at you when you say shit like that?"
"Jer not supposed to be able to; that's the point. But really, I mean it. You should do what I say."
"Well I'll think about it. Shouldn't you be heading back to the academy?"
"Oh shit," he looked at his watch, "I better get a move on. Do you still want me to come back next weekend?"
"Do you mind?"
"No, I could use the extra money anyway."
"Cool."
"Hey, I just thought of a good code name for you."
"What's that?"
"Touchy."
"Oh, very good. Only if we can call you Sparky."
"Nah I already got a code name."
"Oh do tell. What is it?"
"Surge." He waggled his brows dramatically.
She shook her head appreciatively. "That's nice. What's Miss Lee think of it?"
"I haven't told her yet." Only Lena could have noticed the slight blush on his dark skin.
"She really sends you doesn't she?"
"Yeah well, whose fault is that?"
"What?"
"Come on, do you think I was interested in spunky women who could regularly kick my ass before I started hanging out with you?"
"Oh you love every minute of it."
"Yeah, I do." He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I'll see you next week. Think about what I said about Logan, okay?"
"I will. Drive careful."
------------------------------
"Hey Lena, you just paid a lot of money to have those nails done. You might want to think about not chewing the polish off."
"What?" Lena started and looked down at her hand, somewhat surprised to find it in her mouth. "Oops. Yeah you're probably right about that. How long are we supposed to stay in here?"
"You can leave whenever you want to." Jubilee shrugged. "Whenever you think it's done whatever you want it to do. What, you don't like steam?"
"Well, it's just. . . kind of hot is all."
"I think that's the point."
"You're probably right." Lena leaned back on the wooden bench and tried not to worry too much about dehydration. She didn't feel pretty yet. She felt sweaty and half-naked. Still the nails did look good and it had been ages since she'd treated herself.
Normally, she only bothered with the girly hassles when she had to meet clients face to face. And even then, she engaged the efforts of a small team of consultants at Saks. For a small fortune, professionals would worry about matching bags to shoes and the other bizarre fashion issues that she could never quite wrap her head around. The minute Jubilee heard the term professional shopper; she'd been hooked. Now they were sharing a sauna and waiting for their facials in the heart of girly central. Lena figured that Jubilee was a better compatriot than any of the other X-chicks for this excursion. Firstly, it gave her a chance to get to know the girl who had so completely turned her brother's head. But secondly, Jubie was a hell of a lot less intimidating than the rest of the women. Lena thought of having to share a sauna with a half-naked Jean and pulled her towel up again. Then she had to quickly pull it back down. Damn towel, she was only five feet tall, how could it not cover all of her privates?
"So how does this work?" Jubilee asked her.
"Well Maggie usually pulls twenty or so outfits and you try them on. Then you pick what you like and they mark whatever alterations you need and send the clothes home when they're done. It's the only way to shop for clothes."
"Wow, and this is how you always shop?"
"No, this is just how I shop for good stuff. Most of my clothes come from Army Surplus stores."
"That's kind of weird."
"Yeah, well I only need good clothes for business and then I need the very best." "You aren't kidding, I've seen Caleb's wardrobe. I think he's the only teenager I know with real Armani suits."
"People have a lot of trouble parting with loads of cash when you come tooling into a meeting wearing T-shirts and jeans. Did he give you a fashion show?"
"He put one suit on." She paused and looked down, shyly. "He looked pretty good in it."
"Oh yeah, kid cleans up pretty well. There's no question about that."
"So does Wolvie."
"Hmm?"
"Wolverine, he looks really good in a suit too."
"Oh I'll just bet he does." Lena smiled at Jubilee.
"You've never seen him in a suit?"
"We haven't had much call for dressin' up yet."
"Really? That's not like him. He should have taken you out someplace nice by now."
Lena fiddled with her towel. "Yeah, well we've both been pretty busy."
"Still, I'll have to beat him up about that. You deserve better."
"Well gee, thank you. I'm kind of surprised that you feel that way."
"What? What have you heard about me? You know it's been years since I've been jealous of Wolvie's women. And you can tell that to all of the geniuses back at the mansion for me, too."
"All I heard was that you tended to be over-protective. That's all, I swear."
"Yeah, well somebody has to be. You know how he is."
"Oh yeah, totally. I'm glad you were there. God knows what would've happened to him without you."
An attendant poked her perfectly made up face in through the sauna door. "Miss Jones, Miss Lee, the aestheticians are ready for you now."
"Ready for your first facial?"
"Do they hurt?"
"A little bit, but they're good for you."
"Like exercise?"
"Kinda more like vaccinations."
"Right. Lead the way, Miss Lee."
----------------------------
A night out, a chance to get away; it was probably just what he needed. He was having a particularly bad time of it because Lena had just reached the most fertile period of her cycle and she was emitting pheromones at a rate that kept him constantly on edge. He was fairly certain that he could feel the little bastards hitting his skin every time she passed by. It was possible that she knew about his problem because she'd snuck out early in the morning with Jubilee in tow. All Caleb was willing to volunteer was that she wouldn't be back for the rest of the day. So when Remy had suggested that they head over to Harry's Hideaway to watch the live show, Logan had agreed.
Everything had been fine until Logan hopped out of the Jeep in the parking lot. Even from there, he could smell her. Oh well, he thought, so much for some time apart. It was okay, really. They'd join her for dinner, watch the show together, and he'd find a way to distract himself from his urges. Perhaps he could set fire to his hands under the table. That would probably work. Then he heard it. The music was old-school roadhouse rock and a harp player traded licks with the whisky-voiced lead singer. The music came to a bridge and a different voice joined the fray, a rough, sweet contralto that shivered up his spine. Lena! She wasn't watching the show; she was a part of it.
"Let the shadows fall,"
"Let the darkness,"
"Watch over me,"
"Wash over me,"
"O Savior, save your prayers,"
"Save me, save me."
His autopilot stalled out on him. Half of him wanted to go straight forward, though the doors, though the crowd, through her. The other half wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. What in the hell was she up to? To Remy it appeared as if his friend had been snapped like a whip. Finally he managed to get his body pointed in the right direction. He wasn't going to turn tail and run, not with Remy watching.
The song finished amid appreciative clapping, cheers and hoots just as they walked in. Her back was turned to them as the lead singer took to the mike.
"Thank you, thank you very much. Let's have another hand for Miss Lanie Jones folks. Let's see if we can't get her to stay up here for one more number." The crowd erupted in a decidedly masculine chorus of hoots and hollers.
She turned around and flashed a smile at the crowd. A great big beautiful smile, which Logan could see so well, because of the lipstickthe bright red lipstick on those lips. The soft full lips that shouldn't have been legal in this state in the first place. Before he could stop himself, he thought of all the parts of his body he'd like to have stained with that lipstick. He had to look away, had to look at something other than those lips. So he'd looked down. Which was definitely a bad idea because before that, he hadn't noticed the halter. Soft buckskin leather wrapped around her chest like a glove and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Which was absolutely fine with his imagination because it was still busy thinking about those lips.
Okay, now she felt pretty, maybe even more than pretty. She'd forgotten what a kick it was to sing to an audience. When she'd seen the advertisements for the show it had seemed like serendipity. Donny was the guy she used to do sound for. He'd barely recognized her. Even now he seemed to be having trouble reconciling the reality of her all grown up with his image of her as a skinny kid with a big, big voice. He'd been tickled when she'd asked to sit in.
The reaction from the crowd was immensely gratifying. In a lot of ways, this was much better than flirting with a stranger. Here in the glare of the stage lights, she could strut her stuff without having to look anyone in the face. Even when she squinted, her bad eyes prevented her from seeing anything beyond the front row.
"Why don't you sing lead on this next one, honey?"
"I don't know, Don. It's been a long time."
"C'mon we'll do that pretty Syd Straw number you always sang so good. You remember that, don'tcha?"
"Okay, I'll sing it, but then I'm taking a break. That fair?"
"No problem, Lanie. After this one, we're all taking a break."
The band started up behind her and she started singing. She tried not to think too hard about the words. This was her night after all, no need to dwell on the whole Logan thing.
"You gave me a ring,"
"You made me a promise"
"If this was a lie,"
"You made it sound honest"
"And now that I have you"
"I'm lonelier than ever"
"And now that I have you"
"It's better now than ever"
The song ended and the band moved to clear the stage.
"Whew boy! The natives look restless, Lanie. You want a piggy?"
"I don't know, Jer. I'm a lot heavier than I used to be."
"We'll just see about that, short-stuff."
She crawled up onto the burly bassist's back and appropriated his cowboy hat as he started over to the bar. Undignified but practical, the piggyback ride generally prevented the more adventurous members of the crowd from waylaying her. Jerry had a kid about Lena's age and he'd always been the one to watch over her. It felt like old times to be getting a ride from him. She was having one hell of a good time until she saw him.
He watched her climb onto the bassist's back and something inside him started calling for blood. Lena was laughing and touching that man; her legs were wrapped around him; her arms hugged his neck. He fought to regain control of himself. The man was old enough to be her father and he looked every day of it. Part of him still wanted to cut the smile off of his face, sink claws into his belly and claim what was his. She finally saw him and climbed down off of the big man. She was coming towards him, still wearing the hat, still reeking of another man's scent. His vision was going red. He fought the rage with every ounce of his strength. But he knew if she touched him, if she felt his rage, she would never understand.
He looked shocked, slack jawed, bug eyed and paler than she'd ever seen him. At first, she thought he might be having a visual disturbance. "Logan, are you okay?" She reached out to touch his face.
He hastily jerked away, "Don't! Don't touch me, Lena." And he backed out of the bar.
For a moment she stood there, still holding her hand out. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. Her head bent down as she felt her heart crush into itself and fall into her gut. He didn't. He just didn't. And she'd been a fool to expect anything else. She didn't feel pretty anymore.
"You okay, chere?"
"H-he d-d-didn't"
"What? Logan? Don't you pay him no mind. He been actin' funny all day. Ain't nothing to do with you, chere. Don' worry. Let me take you back over to your friends and then I'll go out there and see what's up wit' him." Sometimes being empathic sucked, no two ways about it. Remy settled her down at the bar and tried not to be too concerned about the way she tore into her beer or the growing line of men who wanted to buy her next one. He caught the bandleader's eye and motioned his head towards her. The singer nodded his head and moved to sit beside Lena. Remy headed out to the parking lot.
To all outward appearances, he looked angry. But Remy knew better. He was having trouble getting near Logan because of the fearsome psychic static he was putting out. Remy knew better than to try to read something coming at him at that volume. To say that Logan was upset would have been like calling World War II a skirmish.
"What in the hell is she trying to do to me?"
"I don't think it got anythin' to do wit' you, mon ami. I think she just havin' a good time wit' her old friends. Ain' no harm in that. What you think she tryin' to do to you?"
"I think she's trying to kill me."
"I think if you asked her, she'd have the same thing to say about you."
"Huh?"
"You mean you didn't hear her heart snap in two when you ran outta there?"
"Well what in the sam hell am I supposed to do, Remy? I can't let her touch me when I'm like this."
"When you're like what?"
"Look, you don't understand what's going on."
"Yeah Logan I don'. But neither does she."
The buzz started to hit her somewhere between the second beer and the third Unicum. She didn't have to be drunk if she didn't want to be. It wasn't difficult to filter alcohol. But tonight, filter schmilter, she was getting plastered. She might not know much about relationships but she'd sung enough blues tunes to know that now was the time for drinking. 'Her man had done left her,' and damned if she wasn't feeling, 'so all alone.' The boys were back up on stage. She had politely refused to join them. There wasn't a whole lot for her to be singing about at the moment.
She didn't really like the idea of getting sloppy drunk in public. So she was trying to get the fellow who had bought her last beer to give her a ride home. He had a truck and he figured he could get her scoot up into the bed of it. It would save her a trip back here in the morning. She gave him the keys to her bike and he went out to see if he could improvise a ramp.
He went into the alley to see if he could find something useful. There were a few wooden pallets lying next to the dumpster. He broke them down into boards and carried the longest ones over to his truck. He started to whistle as he built the ramp. Once he thought it could take the weight of the bike he went to walk the bike over to his truck. He couldn't believe his luck. The woman was very beautiful, very drunk and very much in need of his help. Chances were good that he wouldn't be sleeping alone that night. As he reached out to grab the handlebars, he cried out in intense pain. A man held his wrist in an iron grip. He had no idea where the man had come from.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I'm. . . uh. . . the lady who owns this bike wanted me to take her home. She had too much to drink. See look," he jangled a set of keys in the air, "these are her keys."
"You wanna keep this arm?"
"Hey look man, I don't know who you think you are but"
Logan squeezed tighter. "Do you want to keep this arm?"
"Owh, yeah. . . yes, I want to keep my arm."
"Then give me the keys and get the hell out of here."
"It's okay, friend. We know her. We'll see she get home safe." Remy added, trying to calm things down.
The guy threw the keys up in the air and ran like hell for his truck. He didn't even stop to put the guard up. The wooden slats went clattering to the asphalt as he peeled out of the parking lot.
"Take her bike home, Remy." He handed him the keys. "I'll get her."
He was right beside her before she realized he'd come back into the bar. The first thing she noticed was his hand holding her jacket up. "C'mon, Lena. Let's go."
"Wha?" She couldn't understand what he was doing there. Why hadn't he left? "It's okay, Logan. I already have a ride."
"He had to go. Remy's taking your bike home. We're going in the Jeep."
Was he mad? Was he mad at her? He sure sounded mad. She couldn't make any sense of this new bit of data. Why was he here? Why was he mad? Why was he taking her home? Was he, could he be jealous? Was that good or bad? In Lena's state of mind, jealous sounded a hell of a lot better than sickened by the sight of her. So she went with it. She just had to figure out how to make it work.
"I'm not done with my drink."
"You've had enough."
She looked at him defiantly but tried to put a knowing twinkle in her eye. She downed her last glass of Unicum before getting up on somewhat shaky legs. "Now I'm ready to go." She walked in front of him, trailing her jacket behind her and swinging her hips.
He swallowed hard, watching her move. "Put yer jacket on."
"S'too hot."
"Put yer damn jacket on, or I'll put it on for you."
She made a big show of shrugging into the jacket as she walked over to the passenger side door and got in. Logan climbed in and started the engine. It was quiet in the Jeep as he pulled out of the parking lot. When he felt he had enough control to speak, he asked her. "Just what in the hell did you think you were doing?"
"I thought I was having a good time."
"And you were just gonna go home with some stranger from the bar?"
"He wasn't a stranger. He was a friend of Jerry's. 'Sides what do you care? It'd a' saved you a bunch of trouble anyway."
"What do I care? What in the hell do you think I care? You think that asshole was just planning on taking you home?"
"Oh honestly, he didn't mean any harm, Logan."
"He didn't mean any good either, Lena."
"He jus' wann'ed to have sex with me. If he'da tried to force the issue, I could'a taken care of him. I betcha lotsa guys at the bar wanted to have sex with me. I mean, I was up there on stage performin' for 'em. Fellas are bound to think about it." Lena was fighting the slur in her speech but the slur was winning. Her tongue felt thick and her lips didn't want to move correctly.
Logan's jaw clenched tighter and he gripped the steering wheel with all his strength.
"Ssso were you one o' them fellas, Logan? Were you thinkin' bout havin' sex with me?"
"Yer drunk, Lena." He kept his eyes on the road.
"Ain't that drunk, Logan." She had slipped up next to him. Her hand brushed along his thigh.
He pushed her back over to her side of the car. "We ain't goin' there, Lena. So you best just keep ta yer side."
Lena crossed her arms and stared angrily out the passenger's side window. "Well fine then, to hell with you, Logan. I'da figured if you'd lost interest in me, ya coulda at least let me know before ya let me make a fool a' myself over you."
"Dammit Lena is that what you think this is all about? You think I'm keepin' my distance 'cause I'm not interested? Have you been listening to a thing I've said to ya?" He swung the wheel of the jeep angrily with one hand while he cut the lights with the other. The jeep came to a skidding stop by the side of the road. Both hands gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles were white. He tried to bring himself back under control but still he shook with anger and frustration. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
"Logan, I'm sorry I didn't mphh!" He sprang at her and stopped her words with his kiss. He wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her closer. One of his hands cradled the back of her head so that she couldn't pull away from his mouth. He summoned up all of his desires, all of the visions that tortured him and he pushed them at her. She would see what he was going through. He wouldn't hide anything from her anymore.
Meanwhile, he explored her body with his hands. He knew he wasn't going to be able to stop himself if he continued much longer. He pulled his face away from hers and hooked his chin over her shoulder. For a while, he didn't say anything. He just held her tight and tried to slow his breathing. He could feel the blood rush under his skin. He was pretty sure he could hear it too.
"Oh Lanie, darlin' what'm I gonna do with you? Ya just don't know when to quit do ya? I know this is all new to ya but I gotta tell ya yer playin' with fire here." His voice was a dry, harsh whisper right next to her ear. He was close enough to her that she could feel his voice as well as hear it. It cut right through her.
"Ya can't just parade yerself across the stage half-dressed showin' everybody includin' me what you got; get yerself too drunk to drive; and try to seduce me on the way home. Yer gonna give me a heart attack."
"Yeah I want ya, Lanie. I want ya somethin' fierce. If I had any less control over myself, I'd be pulled into the trees over there and violatin' ya six ways from Sunday right now. You see now how hard it is for me to stop myself, don't'cha? But I won't take you when you're still afraid of me. I'm only gonna take you when you tell me you're ready. If ya gotta have a couple o' shots to get yer courage up then ya ain't really ready yet. So do us both a big favor and figure out what ya want. If it's me, then I'm gonna be a real happy fella. I promise ya."
He pulled himself up to let her scramble back up to a sitting position and he got back over to the driver's side. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she stared up at him. He sighed, leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I hope I didn't blow yer mind too much sweetheart but I had to get my message across. You gotta understand that I would never do any of those things to you, not without your permission, but I do think about it. I can't help it. It's not easy for me to hold back but I promised I'd never hurt you. I'll do whatever I have to do to keep that promise."
She wanted to reach up to the back of her head and make sure that the top of her skull was still intact but she didn't want him to catch her at it. Blow my mind, she thought, how about my whole damn world? How had he figured out how to broadcast that way? She couldn't think straight. His kiss had certainly burned the alcohol right out of her system but it had also sent the blood clean out of her head. Blood tingled now in parts that she had, up until recently, not been aware of. That wasn't helping things either. As muddled as she was, she still knew that she'd made a huge misstep.
All references to characters belonging to the X-Men Universe are (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities. All rights reserved. Any reproduction, duplication or distribution of these materials in any form is expressly prohibited. No money is being made from this archive. All images are also (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities; they are not mine. This website, its operators and any content used on this site relating to the X-Men are not authorized by Marvel, Fox, etc. I am not, nor do I claim to be affiliated with any of these entities in any way.