Stealing Fire
Chapter 3
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.
Logan didn't know how long he'd been out. All he knew was his head was pounding and he couldn't move his arms. Looking around he saw he was in a cinderblock 6 x 9 cell with a barred window and door. His arms we're pinned to the wall by steel cuffs so that even if he could get his claws out they wouldn't do him any good. Judging from the light coming in the window he figured he been out a good 8 or 9 hours and it was sometime in the middle of the afternoon.
From his sitting position against the side wall he could only see out the door and into the hallway for a few feet past his cell but he could see the edge of another barred door cattycorner to his. He sniffed the air trying to locate Corinna but her scent was old as if she'd been in the hallway but hours ago.
A door clanged at the end of the hallway and the sound of footsteps rang closer and closer. The cell opened and a tall dark haired man stepped in. He was dressed in a very expensive Italian suit, his dark hair slicked straight back from his forehead. He wore a very well groomed Van Dyke and was smoking a cigarette in a holder. The whole effect struck Logan as swarmy.
"Well hello there," the man said in an oily voice. "I'm pleased to see you are back with us. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Corbett Winthrop."
"What the hell have you done with Cori?"
"The girl is alive, no need to worry, Mr...?"
"Fuck off! I'm not telling you my name."
"Suit yourself."
"So you're the scum wad who's offering a bounty on mutants?" Logan spat.
"Yes, I would be the 'scum wad,' as you so colorfully put it. You see, I have a private client who is interested in obtaining as much information as possible about different mutations and I am happy to oblige. For a price, of course."
"Of course."
"You and the girl are the first live mutants we've had. Unfortunately the lure of money tends to make people a bit trigger-happy. Of course, in some cases death is the only way to subdue certain mutants," Winthrop said significantly.
He continued, "I've heard some remarkable things about you; about amazing recuperative powers and blades that protrude from your hands. I'm sure my client will be very interested in the data we collect from your tests."
Logan shuddered despite himself, the cloudy memories of his last "tests" surfacing.
"Did you know your little friend is wanted in at least six states for fraud? I can see by your face that you didn't. Yes apparently her mutant powers come in quite handy for fiddling slot machines. Once I'm done with her, I'll happily turn her over to the authorities...if she survives that is." He hissed out a malevolent laugh.
Logan growled and pulled futilely at his bonds. "If she dies, you die! That's a promise!" he spat.
Winthrop looked very unconcerned as he turned to exit. "I'd conserve my strength, my friend, if I were you. You're going to need it." And with that he disappeared down the hall, his hissing chuckle trailing after him.
Late that night the doorway at the end of the hall opened again waking Logan from the fitful sleep he'd fallen into. Footsteps stopped in front of the door across the hallway and he caught a glimpse of strawberry hair, as Corinna was placed unconscious on the bed in her cell. He sniffed the air and smelled blood, antiseptic and anesthesia, smells which triggered panic in him both for the horrible memories they dredged up and in fear for Corinna's safety.
When the door closed again he called out quietly. "Cori! Cori can you hear me, darlin'?" His heart sank when she didn't answer. He had spent several hours that afternoon trying to free his wrists, pulling against his bonds, ripping open the skin and stopping only long enough to let them heal before beginning again. It had gotten him nowhere but he began again now, desperate to get to Cori, needing to see her for himself. At least he could hear her breathing. He knew she was still alive.
It was several hours later when he heard quiet noises coming from her cell. "Cori! Are you alright?" He called.
"Logan? Is that you?" Her voice was weak.
"Yes, darlin.'"
"God, Logan, I feel so...ungh!" The sounds of retching cut her off and he could faintly smell vomit.
"Cori! What's happening?"
"Logan, I'm so nauseous. So much pain! What did they do to me?"
"I don't know, sweetheart. I think you should try to get some rest. I swear I'll get us out of here one way or another and I need you to rest, okay?"
"Okay. I'm so tired. Just need to close my eyes for a few minutes." In seconds he could hear the slow measured sound of her breathing as she slept.
He was relieved that she slept but bravado aside he had no fucking idea how he was going to get them out of here. His helplessness sent him right back to ripping up his wrists.
Alarm claxons woke him in the early hours of the morning. It took a few moments for Logan to get his bearings and by the time he remembered where he was the sound of pounding feet rang in his ears. The door of his cell fell in with a loud thud and Cyclops stepped in.
"Logan!"
"Damn, One-Eye! Never thought I'd say it but am I glad to see you."
Cyclops knelt next to Logan and shattered the wrist shackles with a pinpoint beam of his optic blast. Helping the older man to his feet, he blasted through the outer wall. "C'mon, Logan. We need to get out of here!"
"Cori! We have to get Cori!" Logan told him.
"The girl? Hank has already taken her to the Blackbird."
When they were safely aboard the jet and airborne Logan asked Jean, "How the hell did you know where we were? We weren't supposed to be back for another day and half."
"The professor thought it best for us to keep tabs on you via Cerebro. He had a feeling something like this might happen. When we located your signatures back in Canada we knew something was wrong. I just wish we could have gotten here before." She trailed off as her eyes drifted over the motionless form on the stretcher.
Logan knelt next to Corinna and surveyed her alarming appearance. Her face was deathly white, she looked drawn and pinched and most frightening of all a patch of her beautiful hair had been shaved off at the back of her head and large, ragged looking stitches held her scalp together.
"Hank! Is she going to be all right? What the hell did they do to her?"
The big blue man spoke as he and Jean readied their patient's arm for an IV. "I will know better when we get her back to the medlab but a cursory examination has revealed numerous incisions at various sites on her body and the majority of them seem to correspond to endocrine glands. I hypothesize that they have performed biopsies on these and several other organs in order to determine what facilitates her mutant powers. Their methods are crude but I do not think they have caused permanent damage."
Logan swallowed convulsively. Taking her tiny hand he brought it to his lips and kissed it gently then sank wearily down with his head next to her on the stretcher.
Jean took him gently by the shoulders. "Logan, go forward and get some sleep. She's going to be all right. She's just sleeping off the effects of the general anesthesia and a very large dose of Demerol Hank gave her."
Reluctantly he let himself be led forward to one of the plane's passenger seats and tried to get some sleep before their arrival in Westchester.
Professor Xavier and Rogue were awaiting them at the hanger door when the Blackbird touched down in New York. Xavier came forward as the X-Men debarked. An expression of distress crossed Xavier's usually calm features as he saw Hank and Jean wheel the stretcher from the plane, an obviously distraught Logan on their heels.
Rogue's eyes flitted from Logan to the woman on the stretcher and back. Quietly she moved to him and gave him a quick hug. "I'm so happy you're back. Are you all right?"
"I'm happy to see you too, kiddo. We'll catch up later ok?" Worried eyes went back to Corrina's still frame. Rogue reluctantly let Logan go as the somber cortege made it's way to the medlab.
Logan paced back and forth outside the room where Jean and Hank were treating Corinna. He was doing his best to answer the Professor's questions but his patience was wearing thin as his urgency to know the young woman's condition increased.
"Look, Chuck! I've told you everything I know about this lunatic. You probably know more than I do by now! After all, your people questioned the guards and the lab workers! I've been chained to a wall for the last 20 hours!"
"I'm sorry to push, Logan. I know you are worried. I was just hoping you might remember something, anything that might shed a little more light on the subject. I think the key is determining who Corbett Winthrop is working for."
"Yeah, and when I find out who they are I'm going rip 'em to pieces!"
"Logan!"
"Charles, they deserve it and you know it! God knows what else they would have done to Cori if the X-Men hadn't arrived when they did. The girl looks like a patchwork quilt now!"
His head snapped around sharply as the door opened and Jean emerged. She placed a comforting hand on Logan's arm.
"She's going to be all right. Hank's initial assumptions were correct. While their methods were less than refined they have only done tissue biopsies of her endocrine glands. The sutures on her scalp are only to close the head wound you said she received when you were captured." Jean shook her head and turned to the Professor. "It's disgusting. Needle biopsies would have given them the same data. I don't know why they felt compelled to cut her open to do them!"
"Can I see her?" Logan asked.
"Sure. She's still out of it though. She's going to be in a lot of pain for the next few days and Hank has her on a Demerol drip."
Hank discreetly left the room as Logan entered. Logan paused in the doorway for a moment and silently regarded the young woman lying on the hospital bed. Her arm was laid gently across her chest and he could see the sensor for the vitals monitor clipped to one of her fingers. An IV tube extended into one arm. Quietly he crossed to the bedside and drew a chair up next to it.
Gently he stroked her tiny hand, "I'm sorry, darlin'. I was trying to help ya, keep ya safe. I guess I didn't do such a good job, did I?"
He felt a weak pressure against his hand and looked up sharply. "'S alright, Logan. 'S not your fault. Think I was living on borrowed time before you came along anyway."
He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "You get some rest now, darlin'. I'll be back to check on you." He waited until she closed her eyes and then went back out to the main lab.
Jean and Hank were waiting for him. "Don't worry, friend Logan," Hank told him. "We will take good care of your inamorata. She will be up and around in a few short days."
Logan nodded curtly at the big blue-furred man known as Beast. Sometimes he wished Hank would learn to speak English but he got the gist and was thankful for the man's concern.
He escaped to the mansion's terrace. He badly needed a cigar and Storm had laid the law down with him before he'd even left about smoking them in the house, although she would allow him the occasional indoor cigarette. That's where Rogue found him, shortly after sun-up, leaning against the balustrade staring out at the woods that surrounded Xavier's property.
"How're you feelin', sugah."
"Marie! Better, thanks. Relieved."
"Is that the surprise you were bringing back?"
"Yep."
"She's pretty. Do you like her?"
"Yeah. She's smart, she's got a big mouth and she's independent." He flicked a finger against the white streak framing her face. "Kinda reminds me of you," he said wryly.
"You think I have big mouth? Humph! Well if I do it's only because I absorbed it from you!" She said, eyes flashing with amusement.
They stood in companionable silence while he finished the cigar and then turned back to the house.
"So, how are you doing?" he asked her.
"I'm fine. Doing well in class. I've been accepted to Baruch College in the City this fall. I'll be living at the mansion and commuting. That's a big deal you know getting in there!"
"And you and this Remy kid, is it serious? Does he treat you ok?"
She blushed, "I don't know how serious it is yet but he makes me feel special, Logan. Like it doesn't matter to him that he can't touch me. He makes me feel like I'm the only girl in the whole world for him."
A slow smile spread over Logan's face.
"What?"
"You're in love with him. Aren't you?"
She blushed even deeper. "I don't know. I guess."
"You guess?" he actually hooted with laughter. "Kid, you've got it so bad, it's not even funny. Just listen to the way you talk about him!"
"Well, shoot, Logan. If you're gonna make fun of me, I'm never gonna tell you anything ever again! Besides, I could have a field day with you! You looked like a lost puppy when they brought your little girlfriend in!"
"Ok, ok! I wasn't makin' fun of you darlin', I was merely making an observation. There's no need to start getting personal!" He flung his arm around her shoulder and pointed her towards the cafeteria. "Let's call a truce and I'll buy ya some breakfast!"
Within several days, Corinna was feeling well enough to take short walks around the upper hallways with Logan's help. Sometimes Rogue came along to keep them company and she and Corinna clicked right away, as Logan suspected they would.
"Hank says another five days before any of the stitches can come out," she told them. "Thank God he stopped that Demerol drip and put me on oral pain killers. They still knock me on my ass but at least I'm not hallucinating now!"
Rogue giggled, "Yeah you were pretty out of it at one point, babbling to me about sunflowers and stuff."
Corinna blushed. "Yeah, I remember thinking the IV pole was a big yellow flower. The worst thing is not being able to shower. These sponge baths aren't cutting it and I'm feeling pretty skanky."
"Yer startin' to smell a little ripe too, darlin'," Logan teased. He was rewarded with a playful punch in the arm from both young women.
((Logan, don't tire out our patient!)) Jean projected telepathically, ((I think it's time for her to get back to bed.))
"Jeannie's paging me darlin'. The constitutional's over," Logan told Cori. She pulled a face at him.
"Ugh! Do I have to go back to the medlab? Can't you get Jean to move me to a real room? If I look at white and blue tile one more minute."
He chuckled and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. "Alright, sweetheart. I'll see what I can do."
He convinced Jean and the Professor to let him move Cori into the room next to his. He told them he thought she'd be more comfortable in a real bed and home atmosphere than in the medlab and that if she were next door to him he'd be able to let Jean and Hank know if anything was wrong. Jean just smirked knowingly at him.
"What?" he growled at her.
"Remember, her sutures don't come out 'til next week. No strenuous activity until then."
"Jeannie, you wound me," he said with mock seriousness. "I only have Corinna's best interests in mind!"
Her reply was a very unladylike snort, "I'm sure that's not the only thing. I think I'll ask Rogue and Remy to chaperone you two for the next few days."
The scene that greeted him when he entered her new room that evening was enough to make him want to turn around and head for the woods.
Cori sat up in bed surrounded by Kitty Pryde, Jubilee and Rogue. Jubilee was painting Cori's fingernails a sickly blue color, Kitty was chattering happily away about some new kid, Peter something and Rogue was quietly reading a fashion magazine.
"Alright you three, out." He gestured towards the doorway with his thumb. "I've gotta talk to Corinna and then she's got to get some rest, something she's not going to get with you Ms. Pryde, nattering on about whoever you're in love with this week or you, Jubilation Lee making her fingernails look like she's been submerged in a frozen lake for an hour and you," he turned to Marie holding the magazine, "well, you just go with them, alright?"
"Oooo, Wolvie! What bug crawled up your ass?" Jubilee asked mockingly.
"Language, Lee!" Logan growled, glowering at the girls slinking and mumbling on their way out the door.
When the door was closed Corinna asked, "What? You don't like my blue nails?" He quirked a mocking eyebrow at her. "Don't you think you were a little rough with them? They were only trying to cheer me up."
"They'll live. Besides, I have something important I need to talk to you about." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Darlin', I think you'd better tell me about your 'legal problems.'"
Her eyes widened. "How?"
"Winthrop. Winthrop knew and if he knew you can bet that Xavier knows or he will know shortly. I'm not judging, sweetheart so why don't you tell me about it and then maybe we can see if the Professor can help."
"There's not much to say really. I've had to do some less-than-moral things over the years to survive. I've done just about everything short of murder and prostituting myself. The last few years I was involved with a small gang that worked the Native American casinos along the U.S./Canadian border. My specialty was slot machines, using my electrical charge to influence the outcome, although they didn't know how I did it. Every time a casino would catch onto us we'd move on. I split from them six weeks ago when they finally discovered I was a mutant. I was in Canada evading the American authorities. Look, I'm not proud of what I did but I had to do it to live." She stared at him steadily, daring him to pass judgment.
"Fair enough, darlin'. I'm not one to pass judgment on anything anyone has had to do to get along. I was beating the tar outta drunks for money when I hooked up with the X-Men but I'm not wanted by the law, as far as I know. As soon as you're up to it we need to speak with the Professor about getting you a good lawyer."
The tension visibly drained from her at his words. She hadn't wanted to admit it but she'd been frightened her past actions might jeopardize the tenuous connection that had been forged between them before they'd even gotten a chance to explore it. She was in serious like with this guy he was smart, he was sexy, he was kind and from what she could tell he lived life on his own terms and she respected that immensely.
She'd been worried too about her situation at Xavier's. From the brief conversation she'd had with the Professor earlier that day she'd also come to realize that this School for Gifted Youngsters as they called it could be the answer to her prayers. He'd indicated she was welcome to stay as long as she wanted and they'd offer as much help as she desired in developing and controlling her powers. She was relieved to hear that Logan didn't think that her past actions would make a difference to him and that he might even be willing to help.
Logan quietly watched the play of emotions on her face. He nodded to himself. It was settled as far as he was concerned. He'd let her know in his own way that the past was the past. Maybe he was willing to ignore other people's pasts since the less they dwelled on theirs the less he thought about the lack of his own.
Her room saw a steady stream of visitors for the next few days. Jean and Hank checked in twice a day to check on the sutures. Rogue, Kitty and Jubilee would stop by between classes and of course Logan was in and out all day so the time passed quickly to the day when her stitches were ready to come out.
Jean removed them all for her. "You still need to take it easy for another week or two. There's some swelling and you're going to be sore. Absolutely don't get on that motorcycle of yours until I tell you you can! You tell Logan if he takes you anywhere you're going in a car!"
"Yes, Doctor!" Corinna saluted her sharply.
"Ok, smarty-pants. You're done! Go take a shower! It's been almost painful to be in the same room with you the last couple of days!"
* * * * *
"Cori, where are ya?" Logan called into her room.
"In here, Logan." She stuck her head out of the bathroom door. She looked mildly upset.
"What's the matter, darlin'?"
"My hair! I can't cover the bald spot in the back where those goons shaved it!"
He could see she was rapidly becoming agitated; little static charges were starting to erupt from her skin.
"Calm down! It doesn't look that bad! You can hardly tell there's any gone. 'Sides, it'll grow back in no time."
She grunted in disgust, "Yeah but what do I do 'til then?"
"Well if you hate it that much maybe you could just shave it all off and wear a wig. Or shave a big Xavier X into the back."
Steel-gray eyes blazed. "Hardee har, Mr. Wise Guy! How about if I shave yours?"
"It'd be back within hours. That healing factor you know," he told her smugly.
She threw her brush down in disgust. "Ok, I give up!" She stalked into the room. "Logan, get me out of here! I've been stuck inside for two weeks and I'm going nuts. I need a beer and I need to hear some loud music!"
"I know just the place!"
As he pulled the Jeep into the parking lot of The Auger Inn she whined in frustration at all the motorcycles lined up out front. "I wish Jean would let me ride! Thank God Scott had the presence of mind to send someone to pick up the bikes although I suspect it was more about getting his own back than anything else."
"You know it. That thing is his baby," Logan smirked remembering how he'd 'borrowed' it partly because he needed transportation and partly just to piss Scott off.
The Auger Inn was like a million dive bars all over the world; full of hard drinking patrons who came to unwind and have a drink or ten, play a little pool, listen to some tunes on the jukebox and if lucky, hook up with a willing member of the opposite sex. The moment you walked through the door you were assaulted by the smell of spilled beer, the smoke of a hundred cigarettes and the loud music! Corinna loved the place on sight!
"Trust you to know the fun places, Logan," she said gleefully as she dove into the crowd to get to the bar. She ordered them both a beer and they found a table towards the back of the bar and started having one of those ubiquitous bar conversations which require you to have to scream into the other person's ear as loudly as possible in order to be heard over the music. He could tell she was having a ball!
She was nearing the end of her beer when she yelled, "I'm gonna go play some stuff on the jukebox." Dumping her jacket on the back of the chair she wove through the crowd towards her destination. Laughing hazel eyes followed her progress across the bar.
She bent low over the window of the jukebox so she could peruse the selections. While she flipped through the pages, Logan appeared beside her and leaned an arm on the glass, reading over her shoulder. Cori felt her concentration evaporate with is proximity; his thigh was mere inches from her hip and she was excruciatingly aware of his breath on her neck as he stood over her. She could smell cigar smoke and the sensual, musky smell that was distinctly him.
The words on the cards began blurring together as rational thought became more and more difficult. Her breath was getting shorter and he was so close she could feel him touching her even though there was no contact. Frozen fingers stalled over the buttons.
"Somethin' the matter, darlin'?" he drawled around his cigar.
Startled she glanced up sheepishly.
"Sorry," she muttered and went back to flipping the pages. He watched as she punched in her selections; Ray Charles, Frank Sinatra, Patsy Cline, Dion.
"Did you wanna play anything?" she asked.
"Nope, yer doin' just fine." He glanced over at the one of the vacant pool tables. "Shoot some stick, darlin'?"
"Believe it or not, Logan, all the time I've spent in dives like this I've never learned how to play!"
"Now that's just wrong! Grab a cue and let's start the lessons!"
"No. C'mon, you know you're either gonna beat the pants off of me or let me win and neither one will be fun so go find someone good to play with and I'll watch."
"Ha! Beating the pants off you sounds like lots of fun, sweetheart!" He leered suggestively and was rewarded with a playful swat.
For the next several hours she split her time between sitting on a stool by the pool table watching him beat all comers (and enjoying the view of his ass) and dancing by herself to the tunes on the jukebox. She was distracting him but he didn't mind too much since he was enjoying it and she was also distracting whomever he was playing as well by bouncing around animatedly to the rockers and undulating her hips sinuously to the slower songs.
"'Nother drink, Logan?" she asked, hopping down from the stool.
"Sure darlin', I'll have a Bud and shot of Jim Beam."
She detoured once again to the jukebox on her way to the bar then returned with beer for each of them and his shot, which he downed with a practiced flick of his wrist.
Turning back to the pool table he sank the eight ball to win his latest game and retired undefeated. He settled himself back at the table to enjoy his beer and give her his undivided attention. The jukebox whirred as another disc shuffled into play and the strains of an old R&B tune she'd selected flowed out of the speakers: "Move baby move, move, move, 'til the meat rolls off your bones move, move, move! I just love your sexy ways!" She was singing along enthusiastically and acting out the lyrics very provocatively. Logan wondered if the air conditioning had suddenly shut down. She kept singing and dancing, oblivious to him: "Upside down, all around, any ol' way, just POUND! Oh baby! Do it baby! Oh baby! Do it baby..."
With lightening speed he was next to her holding out her jacket. "Time to go home, darlin'."
She stopped dancing and looked up at him with surprise. "What? Already?" She made a little moue' and sighed but accepted her jacket. He quickly led her out to the Jeep with a hand to the small of her back. Snapping the seatbelt she was just about to turn to him and whine about having to leave when his lips swooped down and roughly claimed hers. When he finally let go she fell back against the door panel, breathless.
"Wow! Yeah, I guess it's time to go home." Her breath caught at the intense sidelong look he gave her before he threw the truck into first and sped out of the parking lot towards the mansion.
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