Stealing Fire
Chapter 2
by
RocketJ
Disclaimer. Marvel comics owns all rights to the character Wolverine/Logan. This story just borrows him for fan drooling. No profit is derived from writing this story.
She awkwardly donned her underwear and still damp jeans along with Logan's t-shirt. Getting her boots on over the makeshift bandage proved to be a bit difficult but she found to her relief they offered a bit more support to her throbbing ankle allowing her to put a small bit of weight on it. She still couldn't walk, however.
"I'm going to have to carry you back to my bike," he told her. She looked shocked at the thought but realized she'd only slow them down if she insisted she walk and at the moment they were burning daylight pretty rapidly. Logan said he wanted to get her bike and get as far away from the area as possible by nightfall.
He gathered up his pack scooped her up in his arms and they were on their way.
Corinna found herself relaxing against his chest as he loped along through the trees. It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of her and she was enjoying it. She was also enjoying the sensual feeling of his hard muscles through his clothes. She found herself wondering about this enigmatic, gruff, wild looking man. Obviously there was more to him than met the eye and there was no denying she was becoming physically attracted to him.
They were making steady progress despite Logan's dual burdens of the girl and his pack. She was the merest bit of fluff in his arms and carrying her today was even easier than yesterday since she wasn't sagging against him unconscious. She smelled much better than she had yesterday too, fresh, almost like cut grass, although the faint smell of mildew still clung vaguely to her clothes and hair. He was uncomfortably aware of her hip pressed against his abdomen and became distracted by the memory of how she'd looked naked when he turned his foot and stumbled slightly. His grip loosened and she began to fall to the ground but she threw her arms up around his neck and he recovered and kept moving. He mentally admonished himself that he needed to stay alert but she didn't seem to be in any hurry to remove her arms from his neck and he found his thoughts taking a detour yet again.
They both remained silent during their trek, each involved in their own thoughts which they probably would have both been surprised to find were mostly about each other!
It was mid afternoon when they reached the place where Logan had hidden Scott's motorcycle the night before last. He gently lowered her to her feet. She eyed the shiny black bike with the blue "X" logo on the gas tank speculatively.
"Custom, eh? You build it?"
"No. Someone else. Did a pretty good job too," he added wryly. "Listen, we're going back to town, getting your bike as quickly and quietly as possible and getting out. You understand?"
She nodded.
"Ok," he said as he hopped on the motorcycle and kicked it to life. She hobbled over and settled herself in behind him as keenly aware of the powerful thighs resting on either side of her own as he was of her crotch nestled against his butt. It was even more unsettling for Corinna than it was for Logan since it has been years since she'd actually been a passenger on a motorcycle. She always rode her own.
Shortly before they reached the bar, he shut the bike down and pulled it off the road into a clump of bushes.
"I'll go, I can get out faster," he told her.
She pursed her lips, obviously not liking the idea but resigned. She held up her key chain along with the key to the cabin. "Please get my duffle, too. Everything should be in it."
He gave her an annoyed look as if to say, "What am I, you're pack mule?" but took both sets of keys from her and took off through the bushes to sneak behind the cabins.
As he crept around the corner of the middle cabin he cursed his luck. His favorite three local yokels where there with a battered pick-up (complete with gun rack, he noted ironically) and were ringing the bike. All three were having a beer and triumphantly savoring thoughts of ill-gotten gains and didn't seem to be in any rush to load up their prize. He stepped around to the front.
"Hey, there," he said calmly but firmly, "that scoot belongs to a friend of mine and I'd appreciate it if you'd get out of the way so I can get it out of here."
The one named Earl swaggered up to Logan and eyed him up and down. Logan noted with disgust he was still wearing yesterday's clothing and smelled just as bad.
"A friend of yours, eh?" Earl said menacingly. "Well if that little mutie bitch is a friend of yours than you must be a mutie too. We don't like muties so I think we're going to have to kick your ass!" Logan could almost hear the "ka-ching" of the cash register in Earl's head has he added up the money they'd get from the Triumph and the bounty they'd get on him.
Earl had a good four inches of height on Logan and more conventional weight (his adamantium skeleton made him weigh a lot more than he looked like he did) and he was supremely confident he could cut Logan down to size. Who was he to disabuse Earl of such a notion? After all it was that kind of macho bravado that had allowed him to amass a decent nest egg fighting cage matches in burgs just like this one.
"It's your funeral, bub," Logan tossed back casually. With that Earl gave a grunt, tossed his beer to the ground and swung a hard right fist directly into Logan's nose, shattering it. Logan's balance wavered but he came back up eyes blazing. Earl stood in fascinated horror as he watched Logan's splintered bone and rent skin knit back together almost instantaneously. Logan took advantage of the momentary hesitation and planted an adamantium-laced fist into Earl's huge beer belly causing him to double over and collapse to the ground writhing in pain. As soon as the other two saw that they jumped in and started beating on Logan as well. Logan had dispatched both Phil and Jack to oblivion rather quickly when he heard someone behind him yell out.
"Logan! Look out he's got a knife!" He whirled around to see Earl standing in front of him with a 12 inch knife in his hand brandishing it at him, but he was looking past Logan at something else, his eyes wide with terror. Logan cautiously glanced over his shoulder to see Corinna hobbling out of the shadows beside the cabin and did a double take.
An electrical charge like St. Elmo's Fire was dancing along the outline of her body causing her hair to stand on end and damned if her eyes weren't glowing metallic silver. Her face was mask of cold fury and without warning she reached both her hands palm out in front of her and let loose with an arc of electricity that made contact with Phil's knife blade conducting the jolt through his entire body. He flew backwards into the side of the pick up, hit with a loud thud and slid to the ground, unconscious and smoking.
Logan turned to look at the girl. The electrical charge was dissipating as her anger ebbed and her appearance was returning to normal but Logan couldn't stop thinking about how wildly beautiful she'd looked rimmed by a halo of static, her eyes blazing electricity like some avenging mythical goddess.
"What?" she said as he stared at her.
"Nothing. Impressive, darlin' and I appreciate the help but I did have things under control."
"Logan, he pulled a knife on you while your back was turned!"
"Dirty pool, I admit but I woulda survived it. Three minutes ago my nose was broken," he grinned at her.
"Is that part of your mutation? You can heal yourself?"
"Yep, comes in really handy."
"I'll bet it does," she chuckled.
"Well if that's that, I suggest we get the hell out of here before these guys wake up or someone comes lookin' for 'em."
After retrieving her duffle bag and strapping it to the back of the Triumph they rode back to where Logan had left his bike.
"I think we can get three or four good hours in before it gets late," he told her. "You good for gas?" She nodded.
He took off heading south and she followed. Her Triumph was built for racing but still he knew she'd never be able to keep up with the super-charge speeds of Cyke's toy so they'd have to stick to more conventional speed limits as they traveled. He'd have to push the limits of both machines though because he intended to get back to Xavier's as quickly as possible so they could investigate this person who was offering bounties on mutant heads!
Just a little over four hours later they were pulling into a truck stop. It was pretty typical of these types of places; gas station, coffee shop/bar/lounge/convenience store combo but it also had a reasonably cheap motel. They filled up their gas tanks in case they needed to beat a hasty retreat (one never knew) and proceeded to the motel office to check in.
"Got a double?" Logan asked the clerk.
The man proffered a key and registration card. "That'll be $42.50." Logan paid and took the key labeled 36.
Corinna hobbled in as he opened the door and collapsed on one of the beds and groaned appreciatively. "I'm going to take the longest shower. It feels like forever since I've been clean!"
"I'm going back down to the bar to see if I can find out anymore info about our mutant-hunting friend. You keep the door locked. I'll bring ya something to eat, okay?"
She smiled appreciatively.
Five minutes later Logan was sitting at the long bar surrounded by truckers in various stages of drunkenness. He motioned to the bartender.
"Help ya?"
"Yeah, I'll have an Export." When the bartender reappeared with his beer he leaned in and lowered his voice, "You or anyone else around here knows anything about some guy offering a bounty on mutants?"
The bartender eyed him suspiciously but eventually appeared satisfied that the joker in front of him wasn't some kinda narc and nodded his head in the direction of a booth in the corner, "Talk to that guy."
Logan walked over to the table. The table's occupant was completely in shadow except for two beefy hands with crude prison tattoos adorning them and a bunch of large rings Logan knew were as much for causing harm to an opponent as for show.
"Yeah?" said a gravelly voice from the shadows.
"Heard you know where I can get some info on a fella that's hunting muties." It took all his self-control for him to able to spit out that hateful epithet but he knew he had to be convincing or he'd never find out what he needed to know.
"Why do ya wanna know?"
"I heard the bounty was $5,000 and I could use some cash right now."
"Have a seat," the voice rasped. Logan slid into the booth and as his eyes adjusted to light he could see whom he was dealing with. The guy was huge with long salt and pepper hair and beard. He was wearing a flannel shirt covered by a leather vest; typical outlaw motorcycle club type but without the odd aura of class exuded by other well-known groups of that type. Logan reckoned that the local outlaws must have been providing some kinda muscle for the moneyman.
"You do much bounty huntin'?" 'Raspy' asked.
"Not recently," Logan said. It wasn't precisely a lie since he had no way of knowing what he'd done prior to fifteen years ago. "But I've killed when necessary and I don't have any qualms about doing it for cash." Raspy nodded thoughtfully and gave Logan a cool once over as if taking his measure. Logan stared back unflinching. There wasn't much that intimidated him, least of all some backwater biker outlaw
Finally the guy fished in his vest pocket and pulled out a card that said merely "Winthrop" with a telephone number.
"You find anything worth $5,000 you give that number a call. We'll send someone," and with that he turned away indicating the interview was over.
Logan finished his beer and entered the coffee shop area of the building. He ordered food for himself and Corinna and then wandered around the shop while he waited for it. He fingered the card in the glove pocket of his jacket. He'd call Xavier right away when he got back to the room.
Ten minutes later Logan entered #36 with the food and a loaded ice bucket. Corinna was standing at the sink brushing her teeth. Her head was wrapped in a towel and she was wearing a pair of well-worn flannel pajamas. Only problem was she hadn't buttoned the top and in the reflection of the mirror he could see a three-inch wide strip of her milky white flesh and the merest hint of the swell of her breasts. When she bent down to spit he could see even more as the shirt fell away from her body. She rinsed and turned to him and he was disappointed to find she was buttoning the top.
"Wow, I feel almost human again!" she quipped, joking about the fact that neither one of them really was. "Mmmm, what smells so good?" She eyed the Styrofoam take out containers.
He came back to reality with a start. "Fried chicken and french fries. Oh and this," he fished in his jacket pocket and tossed her a small box. "I bought ya a real ace bandage for that ankle. I got some ice from the machine so you can ice it and then wrap it in that. How's the bump?"
She fingered her forehead and winced. "Still hurts but I'll live." She sat down on the bed that she'd claimed for her own and began toweling her hair. Logan could see the beautiful red and gold highlights running through it now that it was clean and it tumbled in soft waves down to her shoulders.
"Come on and eat, darlin', before it gets cold."
She bounced across the beds and settled in the chair opposite him at the table. She began eating noisily having eaten only the morning's oatmeal for the last two days. Logan gave her an amused look and then tucked into his own dinner.
Wiping up the last of the salt with her few remaining french fries she stuffed them in her mouth and leaned back with a groan. "That definitely hit the spot! I think I'm gonna watch a little TV now and crash."
He went to the bathroom and came back with a hand towel just as she was settling against her pillow. "Here wrap some ice in this and put it on your ankle, then before you go to sleep I'll wrap it for you." She nodded and clicked the remote.
He went and picked up the phone and dialed the number for Xavier's School.
"Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters," answered a familiar female voice.
"Jeannie?"
"Logan! How are you? Where are you? Rogue's right here do you want to talk to her?"
He chuckled. "Whoa, slow down! Too many questions at once. I'm fine, I'm still in Canada and yes!"
"Logan!" Rogue screamed into the phone. "When are you comin' home?"
"I'm on my way right now, kiddo," he glanced at Corinna, "with a surprise." She squealed with delight to hear that he was finally coming back. "How are you and that Frog kid, whatshisname, doing?"
She huffed, "REMY is not a 'Frog,' Logan, he is Cajun. He is also NOT a kid he's 23 and we are doing fine."
"Well you tell him from me he'd better watch out cuz if he ever does anything to hurt ya I'm gonna gut him!" He told her only half teasing. "Now listen, put the Professor on. I need to talk to him about something."
He waited on hold for a few minutes before the Professor picked up.
"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, Logan. What can I help you with? Another lead?"
"Not exactly, Professor. I've gotten wind of a man named Winthrop who is paying a bounty for mutants. I've got a card with a phone number. I thought this is something the X-Men might want to look into."
"Well, that is very disturbing news, indeed," Professor Xavier said in his calm voice. "By all means, you were right to bring this to my attention. What is the phone number, I will see what I can find out." Logan gave it to him.
"I understand from Rogue that you are returning to the school. When should we expect you?"
"Another three days or so. We're just the other side of the border at Minnesota now. Oh, and professor, I'm bringing back a guest. Another mutant."
"Yes, that's fine, Logan. We will get a room ready and we'll see you in a few days."
He hung up and found Corinna staring at him curiously
"X-Men? What kinda school is this you live at anyway and what the hell are X-Men?"
"It's a school for mutants, darlin'. Every single inhabitant is a mutant and the X-Men are a team of mutant" he paused realizing the word heroes sounded corny, "soldiers I guess you could say."
"Now, I get it. You're too old to be a student and you don't strike me as the teacher type. You're one of the soldiers, aren't you?"
"Sort of."
"What are they like?"
"Who, the X-Men?"
"Well, yeah, and the other people at the school. I haven't met very many other mutants."
He told her all about the school and the team, about how Xavier, though confined to a wheelchair was the most powerful telepath on the planet. He explained about Xavier's vision for peaceful co-existence between mutants and humans and how the X-Men were meant to be the instrument to carry out that vision. And he told her all about Jean, Scott, Ororo and Rogue.
"This Rogue, is she like your sister or something?" she asked, a pang of jealousy stabbing at her.
His face softened from its usual hard lines as he considered the question. "Not really but I think of her as one," he said as much to himself as to her, as if he'd just come to the realization that that was how he felt about the girl. "She was another stray I picked up in Canada, like you," he teased.
She bristled, "I'm not a stray! I've been taking care of myself just fine for the past eight years, thank you. I'm only going with you because I made a deal and whatever else I may be I'm not a liar!"
He held up his hands in supplication. "Alright, darlin', alright. I didn't mean to offend you but you have to admit, you weren't doing such a great job of taking care of yourself when I found you." The laughter was still in his voice as he said it but she wasn't in any mood to forgive him.
"Harrumph," she said testily, crossed her arms over her chest and turned her attention back to the television.
He bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. It would only infuriate her more to know he was getting a kick out of winding her up. "Alright, let's take a look at that ankle," he choked out. Removing the ice pack he eyed the appendage thoughtfully.
"The swelling has gone down a bit," he said approvingly. Sitting next to her on the bed he took her ankle into his lap and began wrapping it in the ace bandage.
The touch of his warm hands against her ice-cooled skin made her start and sent a jolt through her entire body. She sat frozen, looking at his head bent over her foot as he gingerly wrapped her ankle. It was all she could do to keep herself from reaching over and running her hands through his thick, dark hair.
She would have been surprised to know that it was taking all his will power to keep from sliding his hands up under her pajamas to feel the silky legs he could all-too-vividly remember from the night before. He secured the bandage and cleared his throat, not trusting himself to speak before doing that. Even so his voice sounded husky when he said, "Let me know if it's too tight, darlin'. It should be supportive but I don't wanna cut off your circulation!"
Their eyes met and held briefly before he looked away.
"Why are you being so nice to me, Logan?" She asked in a whisper. "You don't even know me."
He sighed and stared at the TV. He'd been asking himself the same question.
"Well, darlin', let's just say I know what it's like to be all alone in the world. Once, some people who didn't know me helped me find my place. I guess I just feel like I should do the same for someone else."
Keeping her eyes focused on her hands she said, "I'm sorry if I sounded ungrateful before. I'm just not used to relying on anyone. Even before I knew" she hesitated, "knew what I was, I was always independent and these last few years I've been so used to fending for myself it's hard to get used to someone wanting to help you. To take care of you," she finished softly.
He took her hand between his and by sheer dint of will got her to look up into his eyes. "It's alright, darlin'. I know exactly what you've been through and exactly how you feel. It wasn't that long ago I found out it's alright to be taken care of once in awhile even if you can take care of yourself." She smiled at him then, the first smile of hers he'd seen and he was flattened by it. It was dazzling. Her entire face lit up with it. He sat with her tiny hand between his huge paws stared at her like a love struck schoolboy. Her scent was tickling the edges of his thoughts and combined with the feel of her soft hand in his, memories came unbidden of her voluptuous curves. With difficulty he carefully placed her hand back in her lap. "Now, darlin,' you need to get some sleep. We've got some hard traveling days ahead of us. I'm gonna go grab another beer."
As he turned to the door, she slipped under the covers and whispered, "Thanks, Logan."
"G'night, darlin."
* * * * *
Earl sat quietly in front of the large oak desk, humbly gazing at his hands. Earl wasn't intimidated by much and respected even less but the one thing that both intimidated him and earned his respect was money, and this guy Winthorpno, Winthrop he mentally corrected himself, had plenty of it.
"You see Mr. Winthrop, even though we didn't get them two muties to bring to you, I thought maybe the information might be worth something to you."
The other man sat with his chair turned away from Earl but his voice came over loud and clear.
"Yes, of course, Mr?"
"Earl. Just call me Earl."
"All right, Earl. Now you say they were both on motorcycles and were last seen heading south towards the border?"
"Yes sir. The man can heal up real quick. I swear I broke his nose and a minute later is was good as new! He can throw a punch like a freakin' bulldozer too. The chick is like some kinda electric eel. Shocked me and my friend, Phil both!"
"Yes, Earl. This is very interesting information indeed and I appreciate you bringing it to my attention. If you will see my assistant I will have her cut you a check."
"Thank you, Mr. Winthrop!" Earl said excitedly. He may have missed out on the bounty for the girl but he was going to get something for the trouble that mutie bitch had caused him. "I certainly appreciate that Mr. Winthrop."
With a wave of his hand Winthrop indicated that the interview was over. When Earl had vacated the premises he picked up the phone. "Make sure our friend, Earl has an accident on his way home," he told the person on the other end and hung up.
* * * * *
He awoke her at 5:00 am so that they could be on their way. Groggily she sat up in bed, blinking as she tried to get her bearings. He sat on the edge of his own bed eyeing her. Her disheveled appearance was fetching; hair tousled, eyes heavy and half closed, pajama top askew and in serious danger of slipping over her shoulder and exposing one gorgeous breast. It made him want to push her back against the pillows and fuck her brains out! Firmly discontinuing that train of thought, he rose and went to shower.
Corinna sat in the middle of her bed trying to shake the cobwebs out of her head. She'd been in the middle of a dream when Logan woke her. She couldn't remember most of it but his face had been bending over her calling her name just as he'd been doing to wake her and for a moment she couldn't determine which was the dream and which was the reality. She watched his muscular form retreating towards the bathroom and sighed raggedly. He was so unbelievably fine and so blissfully comfortable with it. She sighed again and pulled the covers back. Rifling in her duffle bag for something to wear she clucked in disgust finding her thrift shop wardrobe inadequate for the first time in her life. She finally settled on her best black Levi's and tight black leopard print t-shirt with a scoop neck that laced at the bust. She applied a little make-up and pulled her strawberry hair back into a ponytail.
She was just finishing when Logan reappeared from the bathroom in stocking feet and jeans. "Let me just get a shirt on, darlin' and we can go to breakfast."
They ate breakfast in the bustling coffee shop, packed with truckers who had spent the night in their cabs or who were just stopping for a bite. She sat in the corner of a booth on the other side of the table from him. The burgeoning rays of the morning sun crept through the window and turned her hair to flame. She'd looked good enough to eat earlier as he'd stepped from the bathroom. The black jeans and tight t-shirt had revealed her petite, voluptuous frame and the heavy black engineer boots she wore, so in contrast with her delicate appearance, were turning him on. He regarded her over his coffee cup as she spoke.
"So, Professor Xavier, he helps mutants develop and control their powers?" He nodded. "Do you think he could help me? I can stop it from activating when I don't want it to, I can generate it when I concentrate and when I get angry or scared like I did with those goons but I can never tell how weak or how strong it will be. That I can't control. I can't normally project it they way I did yesterday I was just really angry and frightened when I saw that guy pull a knife on you!"
"Xavier's done some amazing things, darlin.' He's a good man who's dedicated to helping mutants. I know he'll do everything he can to help you if that's what you want." He took a long drag off his cigar, "How long have you been on your own?"
"Close to eight years now. I left home at 19 after I finished college. I was a prodigy," she added at his surprised look. "I went through puberty early discovered I was a mutant when I was 10. It was easy to hide though since my power wasn't that strong. Mostly I just shorted out lamps and light bulbs. Pathetic, huh?" she said with a weak smile.
"Then when I was sixteen my first love broke up with me and my father died all within weeks of each other. I think the trauma must have pushed my powers into overdrive. On the day of my father's funeral it poured rain. There we were standing in the cemetery listening to the priest drone on while a monsoon raged around us and of course I'm overwrought about the whole situation. The next thing I know I'm glowing like some kinda firefly on acid. I sent an electrical jolt through the ground and sent my Aunt and two of my cousins to the hospital for a week! I guess the whole thing was just too much for my mother, losing her husband and finding out her only kid was a mutant all in one fell swoop. She started drinking heavily. As if it wasn't bad enough finding out you're a freak she made my life pretty miserable at home too. I hung on as long as I could and took off right after college. I've been on my own ever since. I don't stay in one place too long. Once someone finds out what you are it kinda makes it hard to stay around anywhere," she finished sullenly.
He reached over and patted her hand. He knew it was an inadequate gesture but he wanted her to know he empathized.
They finished up and she insisted on paying the check and even gave him $20 for the room, which he protested against but she'd been adamant.
Stepping out into the early morning light they needed to pick their way through an ocean of semis that had invaded the lot during the night. She went ahead of him as they threaded their way between trailers and cabs. He was enjoying the view of her ponytail swaying back and forth in rhythm with her hips when impulsively, he reached out, grabbed her around the waist, swung her around and planted a slow, sensual kiss right on her surprised but willing lips. They kissed for several long moments and he reached up to brush his palm across the front of her shirt, teasing one sweet nipple to life. Finally he broke away and stared down into her half-closed eyes.
"Hmmm. Cori, sweetheart, we need to get going before I drag you back into the motel and keep you there for the next three days," he whispered softly.
She looked up with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "And this would be a bad thing, why?"
"Don't tempt me, minx!"
Hand and hand, they reluctantly resumed their journey towards where they'd parked their bikes.
"Ummm," she began, "you called me Cori."
"Uh huh. Corinna sounds too formal. Why? Don't you like it?"
"I love it! I've never had a nickname. My mother would never allow it. I've always been Corinna."
He felt an inexplicable pleasure in the fact that he could call her something else no one ever had and gave her a lopsided grin that made her heart leap in her chest.
Suddenly a hand reached out from under the nearest trailer and grabbed Corinna's ankle, yanking her to the ground. Her head hit the concrete with a sickening thud and she lay motionless. Wolverine's claws were out in an instant, his eyes shifting from one side to the other. Two groups of very large, hard looking men were blocking his way at either end of the trucks he stood between. One group moved aside to let the large biker he'd conversed with in the bar the night before through.
"Well, well. What do we have here? It's my bounty huntin' friend from last night. Not so cocky now, are we mutie?"
With an enraged growl Wolverine lunged on him and all hell broke loose. Huge bikers armed with everything from baseball bats to lead pipes to pistols descended upon him trying to subdue him. He felled quite a few of them with just feet and fists but there were too many. Fortunately no one felt like firing guns in the enclosed space between the trucks but a hand suddenly whipped around his neck and pressed a foul smelling rag to his mouth. ~Chloroform! Damn it!~ were his last thoughts before he succumbed.
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.