Two of a Kind
Chapter 2
by
Wolviesvixen
Disclaimer: All X-men and other known mutants are the property of Marvel Comics. Brianna/Vixen is mine.
"I could not run away, it seemed
We'd seen each other in a dream.
Seemed like he knew me,
He looked right through me..."
I was singing a Heart song under my breath as I walked back to my motel in the very early morning hours. Usually walking helped me relax after a gig, but this time it was useless. I could not get Logan out of my head. Not just his looks and scent, but his energy, his animal magnetism all filled my thoughts. What the hell is wrong with me? I never let anyone get under my skin like this. I my life, it wasn't a good idea.
But he's a mutant too, that optimistic inner voice reminded me.
"Try, try, try to understand...
I'm a magic man."
I raised my lip in a silent snarl. So what? He's a mutant, big deal. Any kind of involvement is only trouble waiting to happen, I growled at the Pollyanna in my head.
I had been on my own since I was seventeen, when my God-fearing parents had decided I was the spawn of Satan and had driven me from the house.
I had kept my mutation my own dirty little secret for years, until the day I dumped my motorcycle tearing up our gravel driveway at home. The shredded layers of skin on my calf and thigh had miraculously regenerated themselves under my mother's horrified gaze, the first aid kit falling uselessly from her hand. I would never forget that feeling of utter dread as the dirt and pebbles imbedded in the wounds had been forced out by the knitting flesh to fall in a small bloodstained pile at Mom's feet.
I was brought out of my reverie by a now familiar scent in the air. Logan? I looked around expectantly, but saw no one. I sniffed again and suddenly my nostrils were filled with a vile feline odor. I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye, and a large, hairy form leapt out from the shadows of a narrow alley. I was enveloped in matted fur and bad breath as my assailant slammed into me, sending us both crashing to the ground. My skill impacted with the cement, and stars exploded behind my eyes.
I couldn't breathe, whether from the pain or the stench, I couldn't tell. I struggled to get some air, to find my voice to scream. I managed to get one arm up and tried to jam my fingers into my attacker's windpipe, but he caught my wrist easily in one massive, clawed hand. I heard an evil laugh and then I was staring into dark, fathomless eyes in a snarling face.
"You're a pretty little thing, " the monster said with a lecherous smile. He slowly drew one dirty talon down the side of my face. I winced, feeling a stinging pain, and blood welled up from the shallow cut.
My head clearing, my fear and alarm were quickly turning to anger. Who the hell did this guy think he was? A low, angry growl began in my chest, built up and exploded in an all out roar. Startled, the hair beast loosened his grip on my wrist and I threw the heel of my hand forward with all my strength, smashing into his nose. I heard a sickening crunch and a fine spray of blood hit me in the face.
An amused chuckle was the only response from my assailant, who remained solidly on top of me. He was effectively squashing my liver up into my diaphragm, and I was beginning to see spots from lack of oxygen.
"You still have a way with women, Creed."
That growling, dangerous voice sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. I craned my neck to see Logan a few yards away in a fight-ready stance, gleaming nine inch blades protruding from between the knuckles on both hands. I stared, disbelieving, for a moment, then a huge grin spread across my face.
"I thought I smelled you on the little bitch, runt," Creed snarled, never taking his eyes off me. He brought his face to mine and slowly, deliberately licked up the thin line of blood from the already-healed wound he had inflicted. I cringed, utter revulsion filling my throat with bile. I inhaled and, with what breath I had left, spit in Creed's face.
This only drew another chuckle from the beast, and he stood up casually, seemingly unconcerned with any threat Logan posed. "I'll finish with you later, bitch." He pointed a taloned finger at me menacingly, then turned to face the Wolverine.
I rolled away gasping, the sudden intake of oxygen burning my lungs. I tried to stand but both my legs were dead asleep. I faintly registered the sounds of struggle behind me. I managed to get to my knees, my healing ability already kicking in to bring my body functions back to normal. I turned my head just in time to see Creed topple to the ground with Logan on top of him, one set of claws buried in the larger man's shoulder. They rolled in a tangled, growling heap, until Creed sent Logan flying into the side of the building with a well placed foot to the midsection. The impact blew clouds of cement dust out in all directions.
I was suddenly filled with a seething, unexplainable hatred for this Creed guy. Obviously he and Logan knew each other, but his unprovoked attack on me had me seeing red, literally. And now Logan was getting the crap beat out of him on my account. This fueled my anger so that I let my animal instincts get the better of me.
I stood, now fully recovered, and with a low growl, unsheathed my own set of razor sharp claws. I barely registered the stinging pain as the metal pierced the skin between my knuckles. I launched myself at Creed's back, snarling loudly, and buried all six blades to the hilt, somewhere in the vicinity of his kidneys. The impact sent shock waves all the way to my spine.
Creed dropped heavily to his knees and twisted, trying to dislodge me. He swiped back blindly with one tree-trunk sized arm and caught me square in the side of the head. I bit my tongue, hard, but the coppery taste of my own blood only made me angrier. With a vicious twist, I dug my claws in deeper, growling through barred teeth.
Suddenly, a large, inhumanly strong hand grabbed me by the back of the neck and Creed somehow pulled me roughly up and over his head. My blades came free of his body with a sickening, meaty sound as I sailed through the air. I hit the ground and rolled up to my feet, just in time to see the almost comical look of amazement on Creed's face disappear as Logan's booted foot caught him solidly under the chin. The beast went sprawling, and then he lay still.
Keeping one eye on his victim, Logan approached me slowly, taking in my bloody disheveled appearance. I was still on guard, nostrils flaring, claws poised in case the still form on the ground showed any sign of movement.
"You OK?" Logan took me by the shoulder and gave me a light squeeze. He was in no better shape than I, his shirt torn and dirty, blood already drying on his hands an arms. I stared at Logan, uncomprehending, trying to get a handle on what had just happened. With little surprise, I noticed that there was a gash on his forehead that was closing rapidly on its own. "Are you OK?" he asked again, more urgently, brow knitted in concern.
The red haze of rage that had enveloped me suddenly dissipated, leaving me dazed and shaking. I brought my hands up, slowly retracting my own blood-caked claws. The crimson flakes that fell from them as the cool metal slid back through my skin fascinated me. I noticed, with great detachment, that my hands were trembling violently. "I'm fine," I replied in a voice that sounded very far away, "Just peachy." I looked into Logan's eyes and began to laugh hysterically.
I could feel his alarm and concern in my mind as well as see it on his face. "Hey, Wolverine," I hiccupped, feeling a bit unhinged, "Get outta my head." I giggled again as the ground rushed up to meet me.
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