Chasing Morgan
by
Snow
After tracking her for three months, Logan knew why, beside the fact that he had been itching to get out of the school, out of New York, that Xavier had sent him after this particular mutant. She was nearly as feral, rude, cunning, ruthless and, he smiled to himself, as charming as himself. Three months, ridiculous, he should have had her back to the mansion in three weeks. He had started on her trail at the Canadian Border, then south, always keeping along the Rockies. She kept eluding him, leading him on this cat and mouse game . . . .
* * *
Morgan found herself drenched in blood. She didn't usually go for the jugular artery, it was too messy, too quick and just not ladylike, but damn, this guy deserved to go down like a slaughtered cow. Perhaps not as much as the mutant that had been following her for so long, but almost. She stood back from the dying body, letting the warm spray pump against her, soaking her t-shirt and jeans. A memory flashed through her, learning somewhere that the heart could pump out blood in seven-foot gushes from a major artery. Morgan smiled.
'What do you know, they were right.' She thought as she watched the man die.
Taking a deep controlled breath, Morgan felt her long, viciously sharp incisors retract. She flexed her hands; five-inch, slightly tapered claws shrinking back to normal, human-looking fingernails. There was a warm, salty taste in her mouth and the blood drying on her face and arms was feeling sticky and uncomfortable. Morgan turned away from the corpse; her perfect night vision and acute hearing letting her scan the forest around for any sense of danger. She could still feel the other, but she didn't think he was close. The bright reflection of the moon off of a nearby lake drew her and she shed her clothes as she walked toward it.
Morgan gasped as she slipped into the black water. It was late summer, but the altitude of the surrounding mountains kept the lake ice cold. She didn't let the temperature slow her though, she swam out to the center quickly, diving into the inky black water, letting it wash through her short hair, then floating on her back, counting the stars. Tranquility embraced her as it always did after a particularly good capture and kill. Her body felt strong and fit as she ran her hands over herself, scrubbing her face as she treaded water. Morgan dove as deep as she could one last time, holding her breath until it felt her lungs would burst in their craving for air. She surfaced and swam towards the shore, when she felt the sandy mud beneath her she walked until the water was only lapping at her knees.
Morgan shook herself, rubbing the excess water out of her hair. An errant breeze past her and she opened her eyes, sharpening her focus. He was there, the mutant. Sitting on a log at the edge of the lake, his black hair blending into the dark forest, only the moon gleaming off his eyes.
He made a flicking motion with his hand and the spark from a match glowed. The smoke from the cigar reached her as he took a couple deep pulls on it, the end a red coal. His seemingly calm exterior did not deceive Morgan; she could sense the coiled tension in his body.
"Got one of those for me?" She asked, not moving an inch.
Standing, Logan threw the black backpack she'd dropped earlier in the evening while chasing the human to the lake's edge.
"Get dressed."
Morgan stood still for a moment more, her acute animal like senses sizing him up. He was taller than her and her night vision picked up the strength in his stance. She decided to let this ride out a little more; see where he might think this situation was heading before trying to take back control.
Logan watched her, his body as hard as a rock. Fighting himself, fighting the most basic, primitive urges that surged inside of him. She looked incredible, her skin glowing pale in the light, lake water making her look slippery. Her body was sinewy, lithe muscles carved into her thighs and calves. His clear night vision gave him an achingly good view of her ample breasts, hard pink areolas staring right back at him. Every fiber in him was responding to her as she walked out of the water. She never took her eyes off of him as she knelt down, pulling a worn pair of blue jeans out of the pack, slipping them on, over her legs and buttoned up the fly.
"I don't have anything else."
"Where's what you had on earlier?" Logan growled.
"Over there somewhere," She gestured out into the woods.
"Not clean and I tore it when I was taking it off."
"Whatever." Logan sighed and slid off his battered brown leather jacket.
He unbuttoned his faded red flannel shirt, holding it out to her. Morgan didn't move, her eyes glittering in the dark.
"Take it."
He shook the shirt, becoming exasperated.
"Here."
He finally tossed it to her and Morgan caught it. Logan watched her smell it, her nose wrinkling.
"Sorry, been a while since I've had time to wash it."
"I could tell, I've been smelling you for months."
Morgan pulled the shirt over her shoulders and buttoned it. Logan grunted, putting his jacket back on.
"Come on, we need to get away from that dead man over there."
He turned his back on her, walking away from the lake.
Morgan watched him in disbelief. If he really knew what she was, how could he trust her with his back? For his part, Logan's every nerve was tuned into the girl behind him. His fists flexed tightly. One wrong move and beautiful or not, he'd take her down. Logan had seen enough of the remains of her victims to know what violence she was capable of, but Professor Xavier and the ever patient Jean Grey had been trying to work on his trust issues and attempting to teach him how to create it within others.
One silent hour later, a small smokeless fire burning between them, Logan sat with his back against a tree, his legs stretched out in front of him and relit his cigar.
"Do you have another?" She asked again.
He arched one eyebrow at her quizzically.
"Really?"
Morgan nodded. Logan reached in his jacket's inner pocket, pulled out his last and tossed it to her. In the firelight he thought she resembled an elf. An extremely dangerous elf, he reminded himself. Her short, ash blonde hair had dried in puckish layers around her face. When she stared at him, which she spent quite a lot of time doing, her eyes shone the lightest white-blue that Logan had ever seen. He recalled he'd only seen that color before on a purebred husky belonging to. . . To. . .someone. That part was lost in the gray fog of his memories.
Her face itself was small and tanned, sharp cheekbones, sharp chin. She was dwarfed in his shirt. The sleeves hanging past her petite wrists and hands, she had to push them back as she reached in her backpack, pulled out a silver Zippo and proceeded to light the cigar he gave her.
"That's better." She smiled, inhaling the pleasant aroma that rose from the tobacco.
"I can't believe that you snuck up on me smelling like this."
Logan scowled briefly at her, deciding to let the insult, however true, pass.
"I had help."
She looked across the campfire at him questioningly.
"Help?"
"Once I figured how well you were evading me by the same means I was using to track you, I asked a friend to mask my, um, odor from you."
Morgan laughed.
"Must have powerful friends."
"Whatever." Logan growled, trying to not think of Jean's amusement when he'd called her a week ago with his request. Morgan took a couple more puffs off the cigar, her eyes never leaving his face.
"Why all the trouble? What do you want with me?"
"I belong to a group that can help you. A school where you will be safe and can learn more about your mutation and how to control it."
The words that Professor Xavier had given him to say to her sounded to Logan like a lot of crap coming out of his mouth. Even though he believed the mansion was the best place for powerful mutants like Morgan, he still wasn't sure it was the right place for him.
Morgan narrowed her eyes as she stared at him and for a moment Logan felt like she was standing right in front of him, her face only millimeters from his. The hair on the back of his neck and arms rose in response to the intense invasion into his immediate space. Then, just as suddenly as it happened, the feeling was gone.
"What did you just do?"
Morgan shrugged and blew a perfect smoke ring up into the azure sky. The night was turning, it was almost over.
"Checking if you are lying."
"And?"
"You are telling the truth, although there's something else. Something that you are not telling me, but not about the school thing."
She uttered a short, barking laugh.
"I'm too old for school."
She threw the end of the cigar into the dying fire.
"You seem to know me, what do I call you?"
"Logan."
"So Logan, do we sleep or walk? I'm bored."
"First tell me about these others that are following you, the ones you keep killing."
Logan saw an emotion pass over her face, for just a moment she lost her controlled expression.
"I don't know who they are. Sometimes they are alone, like tonight. Sometimes there are more." Morgan ran her hands through her short hair with a distracted gesture.
"It began not long after I came into this country, about a year ago. I crossed the border from Canada, don't ask me how I got there, because I don't know. Everything before that point gets really hazy. I wasn't scared, just confused. I know how to get along without rules, I can handle myself."
She stopped and looked up at Logan. He grinned without humor thinking of the eight torn and bloody bodies that had littered her trail.
"Each time I think that they are done, that they are going to leave me alone, I, I,"
She seemed to choke a little.
"There they are. I can smell them. I can smell the deceit. I don't want to kill them. But they won't leave me alone."
Morgan hunched down into a ball, her jean clad legs drawn inside Logan's shirt, her arms around her knees. Logan leaned towards her, not touching, just letting her know that he was there.
"That's over. We'll find out what's going on."
Morgan nodded, her chin sinking into her chest. She was exhausted. She could sense only protectiveness from this mutant now, regardless what his other motives might be. She decided to use that for this moment and fell instantly into a dreamless deep sleep.
Logan watched her, wondering who was after her and for what purpose. He had chased his own demons into his past and back. He was constantly torn between wanting to know more and needing to move on, to let go of the obsession. He knew that the men she'd come up against were military or ex-military. He could tell from their physical builds and firepower they carried that they were not your local mutant bounty hunters. She had some big dogs after her and they obviously were not deterred by a few casualties.
The sun was creeping up over the horizon, warming the air around him and Logan took off his jacket. He laid it over Morgan's shoulders as she slept and settled back against the tree nearest her. He let most of his body drift into a hibernation state, his healing mutation taking the initiative to keep his skin at an ambient temperature, working out the kinks and pulls in his muscles from the days of walking and searching. The rest of him was on alert for any possible intrusion, any difference no matter how slight, in the area around them.
Sooner than he expected, his external senses registered Morgan stirring and waking. He watched her blink, focusing quickly in the bright light, her irises shrinking to tiny black dots in her strangely-colored eyes. She sat up, Logan's jacket sliding from her shoulders. She looked at it blankly for a moment, then handed it back to him.
"Thanks."
Logan shrugged and slid it on.
"There's a town through that pass. We should head there, then I'll contact the team."
Morgan's eyes narrowed, then she seemed to accept his pronouncement, picked up her backpack and followed him away from their temporary camp.
Logan moved quickly through the forest, his step sure and silent. He found himself impressed by the woman, every time he checked she was two paces behind moving so quietly Logan had to strain to hear her walk. Only once as they skimmed the edge of a clearing, did he turn to see that she had fallen behind. She was standing, frozen in place her gaze locked across the meadow. Logan turned his head, there were two deer coming out of the thick brush into the sunlight, a doe and her lightly speckled fawn. The female was jumpy, her nerves on edge as she timidly stepped out. Her fawn was playful, jumping out into the grass and flowers.
Logan looked back to Morgan, her mouth was slightly open as if she was tasting the air. He saw her tongue sneak out to lick her lips, catching for just a moment on two suddenly elongated, wickedly sharp teeth.
"Hey." His whisper was just a breath, something that only highly attuned animals could hear.
Morgan broke her stare, resumed breathing again.
"Sorry. I'm hungry." She sighed.
They both looked back into the sunlight. The doe and fawn were gone. A quick check and Logan saw that her teeth were normal, leaving him to question if he had seen any differences at all.
Logan began to wonder a lot about her as they walked. Charles hadn't told him anything specific when he sent him on this chase, knowing that he loved a true mystery. Only her name and that besides being in danger, that she herself was dangerous. Logan was beginning to believe that there was more to Morgan than he had been assuming.
If he'd brought one of Scott's super-geek gadgets with him, he could've already contacted the school and Storm would be here, she was always looking for an excuse to fly the jet. But Logan found himself loath to bring anything, at anytime, on any mission that Scott recommended. Stubborn or stupid, it was just how he felt.
Morgan was letting the slow burn of frustration that was building inside of her energize her step as she kept up with Logan. Too often she found her gaze wandering down his back, watching his jeans curl around the shape of his ass, the way the material clung to his muscular thighs as he walked. It was mildly infuriating to her that she was so attracted to him that she could feel her body marking his scent. A couple of times she was so caught up in his physic that she imagined she could almost taste the salty droplets of sweat that snuck away from his thick black hair and crept down his neck line. She shook her head, her emotions seemed to be playing with her.
It was late afternoon when they finally met the asphalt road that led into the small mountain town. Logan led them to the nearest motel, it's units tiny, separate cabins spread out on either side of a larger building. Morgan sat on the bench outside as he went in, headed to the desk.
"Where's your car?" The scrawny clerk asked, craning his neck to see around Logan's broad shoulders.
Logan scowled as he pulled some cash out of his front pocket.
"Broke down."
He wrote two fictitious names on the log-in page.
"Any place in town got good food?" He asked, then looked up when the clerk didn't answer.
The man was staring out the front window and Logan turned. Morgan was standing, her back to them, her arms held high above her head, twisting and turning, obviously stretching her muscles. As she did, Logan's shirt moved with her, exposing her slim hips and waist.
"Hey, Bub." Logan's voice became a growl.
The clerk jerked his gaze away from the window and back to the surly man in front of him.
"What?"
"Any good places to eat in this shit-hole?"
The startled man told him to head to the downtown area, where a restaurant and bar were located and handed Logan a key, glad to be rid of him. There was something not quite right about his eyes, something downright threatening about his whole persona.
Outside, Morgan followed him to the cabin he'd rented. He opened the door to a small room and Morgan walked in after him, her eyes taking everything in in a glance. The walls done in cheap paneling, a pressed board dresser supporting a small television, a dingy chair between the window and a nightstand, and one lumpy bed. Logan moved in four quick strides to the back wall, opened a door to reveal a tiny bathroom. He turned back to Morgan.
"Shower first or eat?"
As much as Morgan wanted to get the dust, sweat, lake water residue and Logan's smelly shirt off of her, she wanted something else more.
"Food. Beer. Smokes." She said and was rewarded by a genuine smile.
"You read my mind."
They walked back out to the road and down towards the town in a quickly growing twilight. Both of them had been through many places in their lives, seen a lot of different cities, burgs, ghettos, etc., This dingy, darkly-shadowed area had to rank up with both of their personal worst, of what they could remember. Where some places had poor, middle-income and rich scattered through-out or separated, this was just poor. Worse than that it was dirty. Starved-looking dogs barked at them from sagging porches, too timid or too emaciated to actually confront them. Morgan saw a filthy curtain twitch at a few windows, but not one person on the short trip. She knew that Logan could also feel the hidden glances, his fists were closed tightly and she sensed his heightened awareness level.
They stopped at an old brick building where an old neon sign, hung crookedly and humming loudly pronounced the word 'Eat'.
"Guess we're here."
Logan grunted his reply and opened the door. Morgan followed him in, both their eyes adjusting to the dark instantly. A barrage of smells assaulted Morgan, she sorted through the smoke, alcohol, sweat and underlying bodily functions, her mouth watering at finding a charcoaled meat aroma. Logan was under the same spell and they walked to an empty table.
At one time someone, Morgan supposed, had tried to decorate the place with the trendy garage-sale feel of up-scale chain restaurants. In this dimly lit place though, it had sunk past the level of garbage on the walls. The tables and chairs were scarred and battered, cigarette burns and glass rings marked every surface. A bar ran the length of one wall, with booths on the other. Three tables sat in between, towards the front. A pool table that might once have been covered with green cloth was in the back. A juke box noisily rattled out an old country song, the sound as scratchy and irritable as Logan felt.
Morgan was aware of the stares of every person in the bar. She realized that she was the only female in the room, not something that bothered her, but a circumstance that could lead to trouble. Logan sat with his back against the front wall, his eyebrows arched, scowling. He too recognized the inherent danger, but the rumble of their too long denied hunger couldn't be ignored.
"What kin I git' cha?"
A huge man, his belly hanging over and beyond his waist approached them. Morgan tried her best to take no notice of both his leer and the stains covering his apron. She answered quickly.
"Four beers. In the bottle. Do not open them."
She felt, rather than heard Logan's soft chuckle beside her.
"And a menu."
In the few times that Morgan could remember being in these situations, she found it best to take immediate control, not to be antagonistic, but firm. Sometimes it had worked, but mostly she had ended up hurting someone. As long as she got some food first.
"Where do you think you are? We don't have no menu."
The tall, grease covered man leaned over her, trying to catch a glance down her shirt.
"Then what do you have?"
His eyes were drawn to Logan's face as he growled and he reluctantly straightened back up.
"Burgers and fries. However you want them."
"Two, with fries. Rare." Morgan ordered.
Logan grinned again, she was learning things about him at about the same rate he was about her. The beers were brought to their table, both of them opening one each with practiced ease. They took long swallows, Logan emptied his, Morgan going half-way.
"What's your story?" She asked as he cracked the top off of his second.
"Don't have one." Logan started to lift the bottle, then stopped, pointing a finger at her. "And don't do that truth voodoo shit."
Morgan opened her eyes widely, an innocent expression on her face.
"I don't talk about my past anymore."
"Okay, fair enough. Though you were the one asking all the questions earlier."
Morgan finished her beer as the food was set on their table.
"Gotta phone in here?" Logan asked.
The waiter gestured to the back of the bar.
"By the bathrooms."
Logan stood up as Morgan tore into her burger.
"I'll be right back. Don't eat mine."
As hard as it was for him to leave the food his body was craving, Logan knew he had to contact the school immediately. This town, these people, everything here was pointing in a dangerous direction. He felt like he was sitting on a powder keg and Morgan was the fuse. He had to get them out of here.
Logan stopped at the bar, buying a handful of cigars. The stench, to his enhanced olfactory senses, was incredible the closer he got the bar's public facilities. He lit one, quickly surrounding his face in the more comfortable smell of tobacco and found the phone in a cramped passageway, graffiti written on and carved into the old, wooden walls. Logan perused the comments as he waited for the line to connect.
It struck him that everything he read, absolutely every word was negative. There were no 'For a good time call . . .' , or 'So and So's sister gives good head'. It was all 'Kill you next', 'Watched him die', and graphic drawings of lynching or guns. Logan felt the beginnings of a headache from his tense posture, until his body caught up with the signals and snuffed it out.
Morgan was ignoring everyone around her, concentrating on eating and swallowing the juicy meat and salty fries. She kept her eyes locked on the table in front of her as she finished, trying to not notice Logan's untouched food across from her, when a muscular, tattooed arm was thrust into her vision.
"Hey babe, let's dance."
Morgan followed the arm up slowly, her grip tightening on the neck of her second beer. A long haired man wearing only a black leather vest and blue jeans stood over her. One hand on the table, the other on the back of her chair.
"No."
She saw him registering first her shocking color eyes, then his gaze traveled up and down her body.
"I wasn't askin'"
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her up. Morgan was dwarfed by him, the top of her head only coming up to the middle of his chest.
"Hey Mike, you better throw her back. She's too little for you."
A couple other guys at the bar were laughing.
"She'll stretch." He hollered back to them.
Morgan popped one of her claws out of the thumb on her free hand and ran it lightly up the man's arm that was holding her. A trail of blood opened up behind the path she cut.
"Let me go."
She pulled the claw back in before the man could see what it was. He dropped her wrist, grabbing his arm.
"Bitch. Fuckin' bitch cut me."
He was backing off just as Logan returned to their table.
Morgan sat down, taking a long drink from her beer.
"How did I know there would be trouble when I left?"
He scowled at her and started eating quickly.
"If he hadn't interrupted, I would've eaten your food."
"So I should thank him?"
Logan arched an eyebrow in the direction of the bar where the still bleeding man was glaring at both of them.
"Sure, go ahead." Morgan laughed and finished her drink.
"I think we should leave instead."
Logan inhaled the last of his meal and threw some cash on the table.
"Got some bad news." He said as they walked back out into the fresh night air. "We won't get picked up for a coupla' days."
Logan talked as they walked, both of them on edge, looking around in the dark.
"Storm, one of the pilots at the school, has taken the jet to Africa or someplace. I guess there is something going on that needed taken care of right away. So we'll have to hold out here, or start heading home on our own."
Logan didn't mention everything that Rogue had told him. That everyone on the X-men team, including Professor X, had left the mansion. Something big was going down and it chafed at Logan that he wasn't with them, that they might need him and only his stubborn insistence on doing things his way, on being left alone had also kept him out of the communication loop. Although Charles or Jean could've contacted him telepathically, he knew that they wouldn't unless it was an extreme emergency.
"Just let me shower first."
Logan unlocked the door to their tiny cabin, his mind racing. As strange as this town was, as odd and violence prone he sensed it's people were, no one had accosted them on their short walk back to the motel. All around him he felt a simmering undercurrent, he knew that they had been followed and watched, but he never actually saw anyone. There was no one to confront and that bothered him more than if a mob had been standing between them and the door Morgan was walking through. Morgan felt his tension and her own, she went directly to the bathroom.
"I won't be long." She heard Logan's grunt as she shut the door and turned on the shower. There was barely enough room for her to undress between the sink, toilet and wall shower. She stripped off her clothes and stepped under the hard spray, steam rising up to the uncovered single yellow bulb at the ceiling. Logan didn't turn any lights on as he slipped off his jacket and sat down in the uncomfortable chair by the window to wait. He couldn't see any direct threats to either of them, otherwise he would've nixed her shower and demanded that they leave immediatly.
A single street light illuminated the road in front of him. The trees and other cabins providing ample black shadows for Logan to stare into. Although he thought he saw something moving in the gloom, there was not anything concrete.
The water shut off and there was a moment of silence. Suddenly he heard a thud from the bathroom and Morgan's startled voice as she cursed. Logan was on his feet in an instant, his adamantium claws extended as he turned to the sound. Standing between him and the bathroom door he could see the outlines of three men.
Logan didn't give them a second to react, just stepped forward, slicing and dicing. Two went down directly, the third danced back, a large hunting knife in his hand. Hearing a snarling growl, a man's voice as he cried out in pain and another thudding sound from the bathroom, Logan let his fury out of it's cage. He jumped over the dying bodies of the men in front of him and ignored the pain of the hunting knife as it cut down his chest, tearing away his t-shirt and a good bit of skin. Blood flowed down the front of his jeans as he swung his both sets of deadly claws toward the knife-wielder. Cutting through the tendons, veins and bones, he quickly separated the man's head from his body. Logan grabbed the bathroom door knob, pulling the door off of it's hinges in the process.
Morgan stood naked, with her back against the shower wall, her lips pulled back from her wickedly sharp teeth, the claws curling from her fingers covered with blood. On the floor in front of her, the longhaired man from the bar, a dirty bandage on his cut arm, lay quickly dying. His life pouring from a gash in his neck so deep Logan could see vertebra.
Morgan took in Logan's six silver claws and smiled fiercely, retracting her teeth in the process. She watched the wound in his chest seal and the blood flow stop. She could smell the animal in him, the visceral emotions as they crossed his face. Logan, still caught up in his primal rage, panting, his body feeling animated as his healing mutation closed up the injury on his chest quickly, slid his claws back and moved toward her. Morgan felt him touch her face. His palm was hot as he reached behind her neck, taking the last two steps that separated them. She leaned her head into his hand, her tongue snaking out of her mouth to taste his skin.
Logan was in a daze, the warm smell of fresh blood, the sharp tang of racing adrenaline and fear, and this beautiful woman standing in front of him. Morgan let him crush her up against the shower wall, his lips devouring hers, the scratch of his sideburns and beard stubble on her cheeks and chin was overwhelming. She put her arms around his neck, held onto his strong shoulders and brought herself up, her legs wrapping around his back. She could feel his need for her bulging against her heat, through the crotch of his jeans. Logan was memorizing her lips, her teeth, her tongue. Her kisses sucking the very air out of his lungs. His hands under her, gripping her thighs, trying to bring her closer. He pulled his head back just a bit, looking into her icy blue eyes.
"We need to get out of here. Now."
"Yes."
Morgan matched his whisper with her own, their breath colliding as they spoke into each other's mouths. Fighting, then giving up to the urges once more as they kissed, seemingly insatiable for each other.
This time it was Morgan who moved her head, down to Logan's neck, to his bare shoulder. She devoured his skin, licking and biting. She felt his hold on her loosen and she let her legs slide back down until she was standing again.
Sanity and their situation was catching up with them and Logan stepped back. He reached down, moving the now dead man's body out of the small room. Morgan took her jeans and Logan's shirt off the top of the toilet tank and pulled them on quickly. She slipped her worn tennis shoes on and followed him out into the small room, stepping lightly over the bodies surrounding them.
"You were busy." She whispered.
Logan grabbed his jacket and pulled it on, throwing Morgan her backpack. Then he turned to her at the door, his hand on the latch.
"They were not mutants."
He could smell that much about them.
"They couldn't have teleported themselves in here." Morgan agreed.
He stared at her, for just an instant caught in the net of her gaze.
"What we started. . . It's not finished."
Morgan let a small grin creep up on her lips as she spoke.
"Not by a long shot."
* * *
They crept out into the dark. The bright moon, dim street light and their night vision illuminating the shadows around them. Morgan followed him as he moved to the tree line and into the forest. Once under the cover of the thick pines, their speed increased. Logan locked on Morgan's breathing patterns, to know that she was staying directly behind him. He kept up at steady pace, moving quickly around open areas, until the smell of the small, strange town was no longer in the air. He stopped, looking up at the incredible array of stars, figuring out their location quickly.
"Where are we headed now?" Morgan asked, leaning against a tree.
Logan grunted.
"Up shit creek."
"Great." Morgan sighed and slid down into a crouch.
"We have to get back to the school. There are people there who can help you with your memories."
"As long as they can help me get new clothes."
Logan held his hand out to her and pulled her back up.
"Come on."
Morgan turned to him, an easy grin on her lips that disappeared as if it had never been there, when she glanced over his shoulder.
"Logan." She whispered.
Logan turned, his body automatically moving into a defensive posture, his hands fisted, ready to extend his claws. In the clearing in front of them stood two men, their white coats almost glowing the bright moonlight. Crouched in front of them were three men dressed in camouflage, pointing laser-lit machine guns. Logan glanced down at his chest, finding three red dots dancing above his heart. He could also see a smaller man kneeling behind the standing men, his skin so dark he blended perfectly with the night shadows, a teleport.
"Morgan, it's time to come home."
One of the white coats held his hand out towards Morgan.
"You've given us quite a chase, but your running time is over."
"Who are these people Morgan?" Logan half whispered. Morgan stood beside him, her head cocked to one side as she stared ahead.
"I don't know."
"Oh my, Bernard. You were right. She has lost her memories."
The two men stood close together as they whispered, their shoulders touching. Logan could hear them speaking though, as if they were talking into his ears.
"I told you." The other said, his eyes never leaving them as he spoke.
"The transference was too much. It was too far to try to move her."
"Listen Bub,"
Logan caught their attention.
"I don't know who you are or why you are chasing her, but she is with me. And we are leaving."
"Wait, please. Let us speak."
Logan hesitated, he wasn't concerned about the guns, he could handle being shot, but he couldn't let Morgan get hurt.
"Morgan, we didn't realize you had found a mate." He smiled at Logan.
"Of course, you can come with us."
Logan bristled with anger, his infamous rage just barely contained. The men in the white coats entire manner was demeaning, making him feel as if he were a child or worse.
"We are Morgan's keepers. She belongs to us."
"What are you talking about? She belongs only to herself." Logan was almost growling now as he spit out the words.
"We've had her since infancy. And, I'm afraid," The man smiled self-depreciatingly, "it is our fault she is loose. We were testing Daniel's extraordinary teleporting abilities."
He touched the blue-black skinned mutant kneeling behind him.
"Sending Morgan further and further away, sending her on little errands. Unfortunately we found the limit of his capabilities and he couldn't bring Morgan back. She was too far away and it seems to have jarred her mind a little, causing her to forget us. Otherwise I'm sure she would've come straight home."
Logan felt Morgan step around him as the man spoke, he glanced at her face, saw her eyes narrowed into slits and knew immediately what she was doing.
"What would I have been coming home to?" Morgan asked, still using her truth sense, sending a part of herself to lean into the tall man in the white coat.
That part of her could feel bio-rhythms; body temperature, breathing rate, blood pressure, heart beats. Essentially she became a living lie detector.
The two men exchanged looks. To Logan it was apparent that they knew what she was doing, knew that they had to tell an acceptable version of the truth. But Logan had a feeling that he already knew what they were and what they had done to Morgan.
There were the people who had made him, experimented on him, cut him open while he was awake. Adamantium bonds holding him down, no anesthesia, while the same molten indestructible metal was molded to his living bones. Perfecting him to be their ultimate weapon.
Then there were nut jobs like these guys. Doctors and scientists that had bought from the black market, or had out right stolen, babies that had been illegally tested for the mutant gene. They raised them in total isolation, kept completely away from any kind of culture awareness. When the mutant anomaly kicked in, usually around puberty, they were tested over and over, in every conceivable way, until everything was known about their particular uniqueness. The government generally turned a blind eye in their direction, as long as there were no flagrant stories leaked to the press of brutality, and all of the information collected was shared.
"You'd be goin' back to your cage. To your owners."
Logan kept his eyes on the gun men as he spoke to her.
"What?"
Morgan was in a daze.
The warm, soothing, even-textured voices of the two men had touched something inside of her. It was something so familiar, so close. But at the same instant that she wanted to step forward, to go to these men, there was a tight knot in her stomach and a shrill, screaming voice in her head that wouldn't stop shouting 'No, No, No.'
Morgan shook herself, trying to still her mind.
"Don't you see, Darlin' ? You're their pet."
"Is that true?"
Logan felt his anger turn up another notch at the tortured tone of Morgan's voice. It was only by the slipping grasp of his control that he was keeping his claws sheathed, his rage contained.
"No, of course not."
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the men realized their mistake. But then it was too late, Morgan had felt the lie.
Morgan straightened up, stretching her arms out, she extended her claws from her fingers. Logan watched, seeing that they were nothing like his eight inch daggers, they were extensions of her fingernails, curved like talons, with serrated edges and razor sharp points.
"I think I'll be staying here."
There was a moment of stillness as the two men looked at each other.
"Fine. Kill them both."
Logan moved in front of Morgan, pushing her back into the forest.
"Go, I will find you."
"I can fight."
He heard her shout over his shoulder.
"Go, damn it! I will take care of this. Go now!"
Morgan hesitated, then turned and ran into the dark trees, letting her instinct lead her away.
With Morgan out of the way, Logan turned his full attention on the three men with guns. He flexed his arms. *Snickt* The second of surprise in their eyes at the sight of his six silver claws was all the advantage he needed. Logan charged the few yards that separated them, not realizing he was snarling. He scarcely felt the two bullets that hit him. One sunken in a thigh, stopped in it's track by his indestructible bones, the other tearing though the muscle of his upper arm. Both wounds beginning to heal even before Logan knew he was shot. He eviscerated the first man he could reach, turning to the other two before the first fell to the forest floor. One swung his rifle at the Wolverine's head and Logan didn't duck, just reached up, his claws slicing through the metal as easily as they cut through the man's arm and chest. He made quick work of the last, keeping his eyes on the two scientists standing off to the side, at a safe distance, watching. Within seconds, the three gunmen were helpless, dying and Logan stopped.
"You don't have to do what they want. You can be your own person."
He spoke directly to the teleport that huddled between them, staring at him with frightened yellow eyes.
"I know someone just like you. He's not a slave."
Logan saw Daniel's eyes widen as he listened.
"That was impressive. We'll have to do some research about you. Logan, wasn't it?"
The scientist's hands dug into the teleport's shoulders.
"Home, Daniel. Now."
Logan ignored the comment, continuing to speak to the teleport.
"You can be free."
Fear and panic distorted the men's faces as they realized their pet was hesitating, and Logan was moving closer.
"Daniel, Now!"
One man brought a black control box out of a pocket on his coat and pushed a button. Logan saw the Daniel's eyes roll back, his small body shake with tremors. The men's grip on his shoulders tightened. "Home, Now!"
"I don't think so, Bub."
Logan leapt forward, his arms extended, his claws aimed at either man's throats.
He landed on empty ground, the two men and the teleport gone. He retracted his claws as he sank down to his knees. Logan knew the haunted, hurting look in Daniel's eyes would haunt him for a long time.
He took a deep breath, the forest around him silent. He itched his arm where the bullet had torn through, new skin already grown over, wondering how far Morgan had gotten. How hard he would have to look for her this time.
* * *
"Thanks for the ride, bub."
Logan jumped down from the eighteen wheeler's cab, slamming the door shut behind him. For a week he'd been tracking Morgan's scent through the forest, until it ended at a highway. Taking a chance, he picked the easterly direction and thumbed his way to this town that was as different from the tiny place he'd been with Morgan as a mutant was from a normal human. This was a university town, the houses painted bright colors with well kept lawns and flower gardens. Children, teenagers and adults, playing and working around him as he walked past parks and playgrounds into the downtown area.
He found a pay phone and called Xavier's mansion, talked to Jean. Everyone was back, the mission had been a success. They had missed his muscle power, but in the end, hadn't been the worse for him not being there. Logan told Jean about the two scientists and the teleport. Jean reassured him that they would find Daniel when he brought back Morgan. He told her that he was sure he could find her tonight, in this town and to send Storm with the jet the following afternoon. They decided on a meeting place outside of the city, Logan appreciating Jean's confidence in his abilities.
As evening fell, he wandered through the numerous crowded bars and restaurants, stopping for a beer at one, smoking a cigar at another. Constantly scanning the patrons, surreptitiously smelling the air. It was after ten when Logan finally stopped. He sat at a small table alone, his back to the wall, a window beside him, the bar's door in front of him. A hot blue's band was playing in the back, the sound raw and loud. Logan lit another cigar and took a long drink off a cold beer. He waited, watching the crowd surge around him.
"Got one of those for me?"
Logan looked up slowly. Morgan was standing at his table. Tight, faded jeans molded to her hips and waist, a sleeveless white T-shirt showing off her tanned, strong arms. Clinging so tightly to her breasts, Logan knew instantly she wasn't wearing anything under it. As her scent curled around him, Logan felt the strength of his attraction for her. He reached into his pocket and brought out a cellophane wrapped cigar. Morgan took it from him, her white-blue eyes never leaving his face as their fingers touched.
"I've been looking for you." Logan said as she sat down across from him.
"I circled back, to the place where I left you, but there was nothing. No bodies, no blood. It was empty."
Morgan was quiet for a moment, she pulled her Zippo out of her front pants pocket and lit the cigar.
"I didn't know where you had gone. I thought about your school, I thought I might head out that way."
The pretty blonde college-age waitress stopped by and Logan held up two fingers. She nodded and left.
"I stopped here two days ago. Found a place to sleep, a change of clothes. I was leaving in the morning, came out tonight. Suddenly I could smell you everywhere. I knew you were here."
Smoke edged her words as she talked.
"Where're you staying?"
Morgan smiled and ducked her head. Logan had to stop his hand from reaching out to touch her tangled short hair.
"Someone's empty vacation house. I'm, uh, kind of borrowing it."
The waitress set their beers on the table and Logan handed her some money. They sat without talking, the music flowing around them, smoking their cigars and drinking the beer. The band started a slow, pulsing song and Morgan stood up, holding her hand out to Logan.
"Come on. Dance with me."
Logan stood up slowly, avoiding her hand. Right now he didn't trust himself.
"I don't dance." He heard himself say as he followed her to the back of the bar.
The small space was lit with blue lights, it was crowded and hot. The band's music poured out of huge amplifiers on either side of the stage and it was deafening. Logan stood at the edge of the floor, looking at Morgan as she stood in front of him. She held out her hand again and he shook his head. Morgan smiled and shrugged, then she started dancing for him. Her natural animal grace came out as she moved, her eyes closed.
Logan noticed he was not the only one watching her. Men from the bar were staring, the lust on their faces easy to read. Logan stepped forward and slid his arms around Morgan. They moved together easily, Logan matching her grace. Once he had her in his grasp, Logan found he couldn't stop touching her. His hands moving up and down her sides, pulling her closer. Morgan could feel the heat that radiated off his body, the strength in his arms and chest as she moved with him. She looked up into his face, so close to hers. Logan let his head fall down the inches it needed to, his lips touching hers. Softly, gently, their tongues touching, then darting away. Logan pulled back just enough to look at her, Morgan opened her eyes and smiled. Logan knew she was close enough to feel how hard he was, how much he wanted her. He kissed her again, rougher this time, without any hesitation. She answered back with a passion he remembered. He moved his mouth over to her ear.
"Show me this vacation house."
Morgan felt his low voice inside of her. She was so caught up in the moment, she wasn't quite sure she could stand if he moved his arms. They walked back through the bar and out into the fresh night air. Logan followed her to an expensive-looking sports car that was parked not far from the bar.
"Borrow this too?"
Morgan nodded and drove them out of the downtown area and out of the city. The house sat on the side of a hill over looking the lights. It was nice, Logan thought, no close neighbors, a little overdone for his tastes, but small enough to not have an extensive security system. She pulled the sports car into the garage, the automatic door closing behind them. Morgan led him through the house to the kitchen where she grabbed a blue bottle out of the refrigerator, moving on to the master bedroom suite. Logan looked around the large room, while Morgan opened the door to the private deck. A soft breeze rolled through the room and she walked back to him.
"Storm is coming to pick us up tomor. ."
Morgan put a finger up to his lips, leaving her hand there as he stopped.
"No school, no jet, no guns, no teleports, no doctors. Not tonight. Just you and me."
She took the last step that separated their bodies, letting her finger trace his mouth, his cheekbones, up to his eyes. Logan felt her feather light touch burning him. She ran her fingers through his hair, feeling the waves that created the wolfish peaks that would look unnatural on any one else, but fit perfectly with Logan's eyes, personality and attitude. He let her touch him until he couldn't take anymore. Logan wrapped his arms around her, crushing him up against her, kissing her hard. He lifted her shirt up over her head, separating just long enough to rip his own off, buttons flying everywhere. Then back to that sweet mouth and tongue, his hands filled with her breasts, squeezing, pinching the hard nipples. Morgan's hands on his arms and neck, kneading the muscles she found there.
Logan picked her up, walked over to the bed and laid her down. He knelt on the floor beside the bed, kissing her again, then moving to taste her breasts, lick and bite at her nipples. Morgan felt a warm heat inside, a pulsating beat, as if the amplified bass and drums from the bar band had followed them here. She filled her hands with Logan's soft hair, small whimpering noises coming from her. Logan unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down her legs. He stood up, kicking off his boots and sliding out of his jeans.
He looked back to Morgan, her eyes were glittering in the low light that crept in from the open windows and door as she waited for him. Logan started to step forward, but Morgan motioned for him to stay there. She stood up and reached out to feel his chest. Logan arched an eyebrow at her as she turned him so that the moon light profiled him. She looked at his body, touching his thighs, feeling the thick black hair that covered the soft skin. She ran her hands up and down his back, walking around him in a small circle. His cock jutted out and she came back to stand in front of him, her fingers moving from his shoulders to lightly pinch his small nipples, then further down, tracing the base of his cock with her nails. She knelt down, looking at him closely. She tasted the skin of his abdomen, feeling him shiver at the touch of her tongue. Then moved her attentions to his cock and Logan held her head in his hands, his fingers tangling in her short hair as she put him in her mouth. His clean, male scent surrounded her, filling her senses. Logan was hypnotized by the touch of her tongue and her teeth.
He growled, feeling himself starting to peak too quickly. He pulled her head back, taking a deep breath. Morgan stood up, letting him push her gently onto the bed. Logan laid down beside her, starting in on her breasts again, wanting to hear those little sounds come from the back of her throat.
Morgan felt the heat rebuilding, worse this time because there were no clothes separating them. She could feel his hot skin up against her, the scrub of his stiff sideburns and whiskers. His fingers playing between her legs, she arched her back up to greet them, spreading her legs wide. Logan touched her, gauging her moisture, her readiness. In one motion, he was on top of her, holding his weight up with his arms. Morgan wrapped her legs around his back, pulling him to her. Logan watched her eyes widen as she slowly took him in. He pulled back out, stopping just a moment. Morgan reached up and grabbed his shoulders, scratching his skin and Logan slammed back into her, hard and fast, again and again. Letting her pull him down so that they were chest to chest, her chin on his shoulder, her hands clasping his arms.
"Logan, oh, God, Logan."
He heard her hoarse whisper in his ear just before her internal muscles gripped him harder than anything he could remember. He felt the hair on his neck and forearms rise in response to her as Morgan's bio-sense covered his skin. It was the most intense sensation, it was as if she had climbed inside of him. He lost all control and came with her, his hips pumping reflexively into hers.
Logan tried to move off of her, knowing his weight with the added metal, was crushing. Morgan wouldn't release her legs and instead, rolled with him, still keeping him inside of her, so that she was sitting up, straddling him.
She started a slow dance, rolling forward and back, up and down, creating a totally different friction between them. Logan held her waist, guiding her movements, his eyes on her face, watching. Morgan kept her eyes closed, every sense in her attuned to Logan. She could feel her heart rate coinciding with his, harmonized his breathing patterns, keeping herself completely in tune with him.
Logan realized what she was doing and kept trying to throw her senses off. He would change the rhythm, move her hips left or right. Push her up so that just the tip of his cock teased her, then bring her back down hard, impaling himself inside her, deeper than ever. She matched him move for move, a slow smile crossing her lips.
Logan sat up, moving them to the edge of the bed, his feet touching the floor. Filling his hands with her breasts again, his tongue tasting hers. Margot wrapped herself around him, wanting, needing more. Once again, they reached their physical summit together, climaxing in a series of shudders and gasps. Their hands leaving bruises on each other's skin, although in Logan's case, they instantly faded.
Morgan slipped off of Logan's lap, their sweat cooling with the night breeze. She grabbed the bottle she'd brought from the kitchen and walked out onto the deck. Logan followed her, stretching his muscles, cracking his neck vertebra unconsciously. The temperate air tickled their now, extremely sensitive skin. Morgan stepped into a small hot tub that sat at the edge of the deck. She took a quick drink out of the bottle and handed it to Logan as he lowered himself into the steaming water. A light, citrus taste exploded in his mouth and heat followed the tequila's path inside him as he took a long swallow.
"Good stuff."
Morgan smiled at his comment. She ducked her head into the water, ruffling her wet hair.
"You can't get drunk, can you?" She asked, taking the bottle back, another burning swallow.
"For a minute, it doesn't last any longer than that."
"That would suck. Sometimes I need to."
Logan looked at her in the dark.
"Have you remembered anything else?"
"No."
Logan didn't need her truth sense to know she was lying to him, to herself.
"Did you kill them?"
Her voice was hesitant, quiet.
"No. Got close, but they made the teleport move them."
"God. This will never be over. They will keep coming after me."
Morgan didn't hide her pain as a few tears crept down her cheeks. Logan felt the waves of anger rolling off her body, even through the water.
"I have to help the others. I have to get them out of there."
Logan reached across the tub, pulling her into his arms, into his embrace.
"We will. We will free them all. Count on it."
He could see the pain in Daniel's eyes in his mind as he made the vow. He held Morgan close, the water bubbling around them, the night sky waning as a new day began, Logan already planning in his head. Eager to get back to the mansion, introduce Morgan to the others and move on wherever the scientists were hiding.
He could help Morgan break the bonds that her past held her in, even if he couldn't escape his own mysterious history.
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