Terri's Peep Hut ~~ Fiction Archive

A Bargain at Any Price

Title: Alter-Eighteen: A Bargain at Any Price

Author: Terri

E-mail: xgrrl26@yahoo.com

Rating: R, adult themes

Disclaimer: Most of them aren't mine and I don't really want the ones that are.

Archive: WFRA, Peep Hut, Mutual Admiration-anyone else, just ask and I'll say yes.

Feedback: Please! Pretty please? Good, bad, and ugly welcome..

Summary: Alternative version of events in the movie and eighteen series. Logan decides to make some changes in his life, and ends up going shopping for something a little unusual.

Comments: This was prompted by a weird marriage of a plot bunny flung by Karen and a chain e-mail. The bunny goes (hops?) thusly: Logan buys Rogue in some kind of mutant sale/white slavery deal. It just bounced around in my head until a friend sent me this chain e-mail, whose heart-tugging little story goes like this: A boy sees an ad in the paper for puppies for sale. He goes down the road to see the farmer selling the puppies. He asks the farmer how much they are, and the farmer says $50. The little kid says that he only has $2.37, but asks if he could look at the puppies anyway. The farmer says sure and the kid takes a good look at all of them, but once he sees the runt of the litter-a little 3-legged puppy-he falls in love with it and asks the farmer if he can buy it on an installment plan-50 cents a month until the puppy's paid for. The farmer tries to talk him out of it, saying - you don't want that one, it'll never be able to run and play with you. The little boy insists that's the one he wants. The farmer says that in that case, he'll give it away for free-it's a lame little puppy, always will be, and it's not really worth anything anyway. Put your money away, the farmer says, you can have it for free. The little boy gets mightily pissed and insists on paying the full $50 for the 3-legged puppy. The farmer argues with him for a while, and then the boy finally pulls up his pant leg to reveal a leg brace. He tells the farmer that he'll never be able to run and play like a 'normal' puppy would want to do with him and that the 3-legged one is worth every bit as much as the rest of them. He gets the puppy, and the farmer agrees to the payment plan, with tears in his eyes and a new understanding, blah, blah, blah. Normally, I don't let those kind of e-mails get to me, but this one for some reason did. And not only that, it made me think of W/R and this somewhat-dormant plot bunny right away. You decide which is worse ;)

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The Wolverine sauntered into the small warehouse. There were about two dozen men already inside, either hovering around the small, makeshift bar set up in one corner or in front of the small risers that were arranged to serve as a stage for this evening. Wolverine had heard about these kinds of things before, but had never attended. Lately, though, he'd been thinking about making some changes in his life, about finding a companion to share it with. Fifteen years of roaming around, fighting, and running was getting old. He had started thinking that there had to be more to life than that, more than just living day to day, more than just an endlessly frustrating search for his past. He'd already bought a piece of land on the other end of the continent, and had slowly been stockpiling money from the fights. If he found a good one here tonight, now could be the time to make a change.

He'd never been exactly lacking for female company. But hookers or fight groupies who stole your wallet and split, or the occasional decent waitress or barmaid that hung around until one of the nightmares hit - well, they weren't long-term propositions. And the claws, the mutation, the nightmares - those were all factors that had led him to think getting a companion this way was a better alternative than any of the other options open to him. These girls would be at the very bottom of the social ladder, making them not only far from discriminating, but also, to be blunt, somewhat disposable. If it didn't work out, or, God forbid, he accidentally killed her, she wasn't likely to be missed, and he could at least tell himself that she'd been destined for a fate just as bad, if not worse.

He had some idea of what he was looking for. He wanted someone relatively young. He didn't age, or didn't age normally, so whoever he picked would last the longest if they were young to begin with. Looks didn't matter too much. Someone pleasant looking would be nice, sure, but what they were like was going to be more important in the long run. He didn't know if he wanted to have kids-he hadn't thought it all through that far ahead yet-but someone who might make a good mom was another criteria. He also wanted somebody low-maintenance. The life he intended for them wouldn't be easy, and she'd have to be the kind of person willing to work hard and complain little. Someone with a strong spirit, as well as a strong body, would be welcome.

The lights flashed on and off once, indicating that they were almost ready to get underway. A grubby looking fat man took the stage, clearing his throat a few times before speaking. "Welcome, gentlemen. Just so we're all clear on the evening's rules - if you see something you like, let the purser know. If two or more of you are interested in the same item, you'll each be asked to submit a sealed bid above the base asking price. Base price for each item is $25,000 Canadian unless otherwise stated. Cash payment only. Once you take possession of an item IT IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. If she runs away and you can't catch her, that's not our problem. Also - no refunds, but we will exchange an item at the next auction. We guarantee them to be healthy, fertile, and disease-free. Let's get started."

Wolverine watched the parade of women and girls - some who had obviously not yet reached puberty - begin. Most were in handcuffs and ankle restraints of some sort, and naked. Most were at least average looking, and all had one or two interested men bid on them. None struck a chord with the Wolverine, though, until a small, obviously frightened girl was shoved onto the stage.

The first thing that caught his attention was her eyes. Scared, to be sure, but at least they weren't dead, like those of all of the previous "items." There was still some life behind them, and Logan thought that might be a good sign, a sign that she was at least a survivor, maybe even a fighter. The second thing that caught his attention was that she was not naked, as the others had been. In fact, she was well-covered in a black turtleneck and leggings. Logan was wondering if clothing might have been provided to cover some injury or deformity, but then the fat man spoke.

"This one's - well, I won't lie to you. This one's available at a very cheap price, gentlemen. She's a mutie." There were hisses and boos from the audience, and the girl flinched. "Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, we'll knock some off the base price for that. And I'll give you fair warning. Her mutation is her skin - it's deadly, kills whoever comes in contact with it, and we found that out the hard way." He gave a menacing look in the girl's direction and she lowered her head, fixing her gaze on the floor. "Now, we're being up front with you because we know you wouldn't want to be surprised by that. But - this item does have some pluses. She's a virgin. She's young, not quite legal, and I know there are some of you out there who like it that way. Heh. And, hey, there are a lot of things that don't involve touching skin - if you're into dishing out punishment, or into the rubber clothing thing, she could be your girl. We're making her available at a very reasonable price. Five thousand, Canadian."

"Mutie freak!" She flinched at that and shuffled her feet, but the crowd laughed along with the heckler and the emcee did as well.

"Yeah, well, we're willing to negotiate that price." The emcee seemed to be enjoying the girl's distress. The corner of his mouth curled upward as he saw a tear roll down her cheek.

"She ain't worth five bucks," another heckler called out, prompting more laughter. The girl hung her head resignedly, and Logan began to wonder how many auctions they'd tried to sell her at. He also began to think that the announcer was right - there were a lot of things that could be done with her that didn't involve touching her skin.

"How about three thousand? Anyone willing to take her off our hands for three thousand?"

"Hell, no! Who'd want a mutie?" Seemingly, there was no shortage of anti-mutant sentiment.

"Twenty-five hundred? Anyone?"

"I got twenty-five cents!" The crowd laughed again, but Logan growled a little at that, and made his way over to the purser.

"I'll take her."

"What're you offering? The last price was $2500." The muscled man running the cash box seemed nonplussed by it all and waited for Logan's response.

"The asking price was $5000," Logan said, laying out that amount in cash on the table. "Take it."

The purser seemed more than a little surprised. "But, man, she's - she ain't worth - "

"That was the price, that's what I'm payin'. Now, gimme her." He gave the purser a hard look for emphasis. The purser gave up his brief attempt to look out for his customer's best interests. He just took the money, then gestured with his head toward the emcee.

"Well, well," the emcee commented, "we have a taker. Let's give this fine gentleman a round of applause for taking this item off our hands." The crowd jeered and produced mocking applause, but Logan ignored it. His eyes were on the girl as she was hustled off the stage and toward him. Her eyes were wide with surprise, and more than a little fear. She gave no resistance as the two wranglers shoved her through the crowd, and she ignored the lingering insults and catcalls. When she reached Logan, one of the wranglers handed him a key, presumably to the wrist and ankle cuffs she wore, and gave her one last rough shove.

She said nothing, just stood there with wide eyes. Logan grabbed the links of her handcuffs, and guided her along behind him, out of the warehouse. She said nothing and seemed to follow willingly. He wove his way through the small parking lot until they arrived at his truck. He led her to the passenger side, then let go of her cuffs as he fished in his pocket for the keys. She still said nothing, but now her mouth had dropped open to round out her shocked expression. Logan found the keys, and unlocked the door for her, then opened it. He looked at her expectantly, but when she only stared back, he instructed, "Get in."

Her eyes fell away from him for the first time, and she looked to the seat. Looking back at him, but still not moving, she said, "Let me go. Please."

Logan seemed to consider it momentarily, but then said, "How'd you get here in the first place? You wouldn't last ten minutes on your own. We're in the middle of nowhere, and there's nothin' but mutie-haters back there. Just what the hell do ya think you'd do if I did let ya go?"

The girl seemed to think about it for a few long seconds, finally sighing and sitting down in the car. Logan closed the door after she'd swung her legs in, then went around to the other side. He started the car and drove them out of the parking lot without comment. He was waiting for her to talk, but after twenty minutes of silence, he realized he might be waiting a hell of a long time for that.

"What's your name?" he ventured. She frowned but didn't answer, and kept her head turned toward her window. "My name's Logan." That got him a look in his direction. "Look, I'm not some kinda weirdo. I'm not into rubber suits or punishment or whatever else that guy said. I'm just lookin' for a girl." Her eyes traveled his face with uncertainty. He thought she must be trying to figure out if he's telling the truth. "I'm a mutie too."

"What's your mutation?" She asked it in a small, quiet voice, one she learned during her time with the travelling auctions.

"I heal from anythin' real fast. Got enhanced senses. And I got metal claws in my hands." She nodded her understanding. "What's your name?" he tried again.

"Are you planning on - what are you going to do with me?" Again, her voice was soft, supplicating even as she asked the question.

"We're gonna be drivin' for about a week, maybe a little more. I got a place, but it's pretty far." She was still looking at him expectantly, so he elaborated. "I ain't gonna do nothin' bad to ya, but if you try to run, I'll bring you back." She perked up a little at that. It seemed to be closer to the information she was looking for, so he continued in that vein. "I'll get ya some clothes and food up at the next town. And I'll take those cuffs off when we stop if you gimme your word you won't use your skin on me." She frowned a little at that. "Whaddya say?" He wanted to try to make her less scared, to try to get off on the right foot with her despite how he'd acquired her.

"Are you - do you give me your word you won't do anything to hurt me?" He could tell she'd scraped up her courage to ask that question. It didn't come out in the quiet voice, not quite.

"Yeah. We got a deal?" She nodded, and sank back into the seat a little. "Hey, what's your name?" Her eyes darted to the floor. "Look, I understand if you don't wanna say, but I don't wanna go around callin' ya 'hey you.'"

"What do you want to call me?" Her head was hung just as it had been on the stage when she'd been heckled. Something about that stirred anger in Logan, but it stirred a healthy dose of compassion too. He took a few seconds before responding to be sure his voice was even.

"What do you wanna be called?" He hoped that came out sounding reasonably OK. She let out a sigh, and still didn't answer. "OK, all right. You let me know, then." They drove on in silence for the next hour, each wondering what they'd just gotten themselves into.

When they reached town, Logan pulled into the parking lot of a small restaurant and cut the engine. He turned to face the girl, and she looked at him expectantly. "This place look OK to you? You like pizza?" She nodded. "OK. We'll go in and get a bite to eat. You hungry? When was the last time you had somethin' to eat?"

"Uh," she appeared to be searching her memory, "I'm not sure. Maybe-maybe three or four days ago?"

"Well, then it's definitely time to eat." He tried to smile a little with that. "I'm gonna unlock you, OK? Don't-don't run away or anythin'." She didn't respond, but held out her hands. He thought she probably wouldn't run, at least not before she got some warm food in her. He undid the handcuffs and she rubbed at her wrists with gloved hands. "I'll go around to get your feet." He did just that, opening her door and stooping to unlock the ankle cuffs. Chucking the metal rings into the truck, he reached for her arm, helping her out of the truck. He noticed her stiffen a little at the contact, and let go as soon as he'd gotten her up and out. "Come on, let's get some food."

"Can-can I ask a question?" He walked very close to her, and just a half-step behind her, in case she did try anything.

"Uh-huh."

"Where are we?" She didn't look at him when she asked, she kept her eyes fixed ahead.

"Labrador City, Newfoundland."

"C-canada? We're in Canada?" She did look at him now. And she'd stopped walking too.

"Yeah," he answered softly, giving her a gentle nudge to get her moving toward the restaurant door again. "Where'd they grab you from?"

"Mississippi," she answered, almost involuntarily. Well, Logan thought, that explains the accent. "I-I-we're in Canada?"

"Yeah," he repeated, opening the door and guiding her through.

An overly-perky middle-aged hostess greeted them. "Welcome to Pizza Delight. Table for two?" Logan nodded and they were shown to a small booth in the back. Logan took the seat facing the door, allowing him a good view of the whole restaurant. The girl numbly slid in the booth opposite them, and the hostess plunked down two menus. "Enjoy your pizza."

Logan tried another small smile at her and decided on a lighter topic. "So, whaddya like on pizza?"

That caught her attention, and she seemed about to answer the question for a moment, but she just lowered her head and used the quiet voice to say, "Whatever you like is fine."

Logan frowned at that. He understood why she was like this, had expected it even, but he wanted to get her out of it as soon as possible. He wasn't the kind of person who needed to be constantly acquiesced to that way, and he didn't like the expression on her when she did it. "Well, I was thinkin' of gettin' some kinda meat, for starters-whaddya like best, pepperoni, sausage, ham?"

She peeked up at him a little and said, "Pepperoni."

"Good," he encouraged. "We'll get that. Any vegetables you like?"

Her head lifted the whole way and her big brown eyes met his. He thought he saw the corner of her mouth quirk upward, just for a second. "Anything but onions," she answered.

"OK. How 'bout mushrooms, green peppers, uh, maybe olives?" She nodded in response. "I bet you're pretty hungry and I am too. We'll get a big one, OK? Extra-large." She nodded again. "You wanna get anythin' else? They got salad and garlic bread and stuff." She looked confused at that, and Logan noticed that she hadn't opened her menu. "Why dontcha take a look in there and see if there's anythin' else you'd like. Get whatever you want." It wouldn't hurt to get some vegetables in her, he thought.

"Um." She regarded the menu for a moment. "Could-could I have some salad, please?"

"Sure."

Her eyes returned to the menu and she glanced up at him and back at the menu a few times before nervously and hopefully asking, "Maybe some breadsticks too, please? We could both eat some." Before Logan had a chance to respond, their waitress appeared. She was equally as perky as the hostess.

"Hi, I'm Lori, and welcome to Pizza Delight! It will be my delight to be your waitress today! Have you decided on your order?"

"Yeah," Logan spoke for them both. "We'll get the biggest pizza you got with pepperoni, mushrooms, green peppers, and olives on it. She-she wants a salad and give us a coupla orders of breadsticks too."

"And what kind of dressing would you like on that salad?" the waitress asked the girl.

"Um." She shot a confused look at Logan, and he tried to give her a reassuring one in return. "Do you have ranch?"

"Sure thing. Something to drink?" The waitress was still looking at the girl, but she was looking to Logan, who answered for them both.

"Pitcher of beer. Whaddya got on draught?"

"Molson Golden, Labatt's, Moosehead, - "

"We'll take the Molson's."

"Thanks!" The waitress hustled off to put their order in, and Logan relaxed a little in his seat, then frowned as a thought occurred to him.

"Beer's OK with you? You can get somethin' else if you want when she comes back over." The girl shook her head shakily. "Really, it's OK."

"Beer's fine." She fidgeted in her seat and rearranged the silverware in front of her.

"Look, you, uh, I dunno what all you've been through. I wouldn't guess too much of it was pleasant. And I, uh, I realize that you're probably thinkin' you're not too sure about me, bein' that I, ah, bought you and all." Logan leaned forward across the table and whispered that last phrase. "But I just-I'm just a little unusual, not, ah, not demented or nothin'. That's why I thought buyin' a girl might be a good idea. Like I said, I'm a mutant, and I got some, uh, problems 'cause of that. But I don't want you to feel scared or like I might do somethin' bad to ya. You're gonna be OK with me." She didn't respond, but was holding his gaze with her own and seemed to be taking his words in. "You can relax a little. We're just-we're just gonna drive out to my place and then we'll get all settled in out there. I wasn't plannin' on, you know, doin' anythin' with ya right away, so you don't hafta worry 'bout that either. Thought I'd just give you a chance to get settled a little bit, get to know me some." She didn't respond to that either, but Logan was encouraged by her attention and expression. "Do you, uh, wanna ask me anythin' or say anythin'?"

"Why did you buy me? I mean, why did you pick me?" She wasn't using the quiet voice now, and Logan was hopeful at that.

"Well, I thought you were the best one. And me and you both bein' mutants, I thought we'd probably understand each other and get along OK over the long haul." Her eyes got wide at that.

"So-so you want to keep me for a while? A long time?"

"That's pretty much what I was figurin' on. I know-I know some of the men at those things are buyin' girls to, uh, well, just to have for a while until they get tired of 'em, and some are buyin' brides. I guess I'm in the middle there. I was lookin' for someone to live with, to hang out with." He couldn't tell if she was relieved that he wasn't looking to abuse her or kill her then dump her or if she was alarmed that he was planning on keeping her around. Probably both, he thought to himself. "Look, I know it ain't-it ain't probably how you thought of your life and findin' a guy and shit. But I-we might be able to make it work out, you know? At least to make it a little better for both of us than the situations we were in before. I'd just like to try it and see."

The waitress returned with beer, breadsticks, and salad, and Logan watched the girl as she seemed to be thinking it over in her head. He poured a drink into his glass and hers and gave her another little encouraging smile.

"Can I ask something else?" Logan nodded and tried to keep the smile on his face. "Where are we going?"

"Rocky mountains, just north of Jasper. Got a place there." She nodded. "It's not too nice. I mean, it's nice, but it don't have a lotta stuff. Got runnin' water, though. I dug the well and piped it myself." Logan was actually pretty proud of that accomplishment.

"I've never seen the Rockies," she responded, looking at him a little nervously while she nibbled on a breadstick.

"You'll like 'em. Especially the Canadian ranges, they're beautiful." She was nervous about making conversation, he realized. She was waiting to see what his response would be to her just saying something conversationally. "I spent a lotta time wanderin' around Canada, and I think that's the best spot right there, the Rockies."

She took a sip of her beer, then smiled at him a little. "I guess I'd like to see them."

"Good." Her eating and conversation were very good signs, Logan thought. "Anythin' else you wanna ask me?"

"Can you, um, tell me a little bit more about yourself? Like, how old you are and where you're from, your family, that kind of stuff?"

"Sure. I dunno most of that, though, 'cause I lost my memories a while back, about fifteen years back. Just woke up in the snow, only knew my name. I think-" Logan caught himself. The words had just been rolling out and he'd been caught up in trying to keep the conversation going, trying to keep her comfortable. But he paused for a second to consider whether he should tell her the rest of it. Oh well, he thought, might as well get it out. "I think that they did experiments on me or somethin' 'cause I get nightmares about it. And 'cause-well, metal claws ain't normal, even for a mutant. But I dunno for sure. And hey-that's somethin' I should warn ya about, the nightmares. Sometimes they get bad and I wake up clawin' at stuff. If you, uh, notice that happenin', you just gotta get away from me right away so I don't claw ya by accident, OK?"

"I'm so sorry." That was the most *there*, the most animated, he'd seen her look so far.

"Thanks. Nothin' to be done about it now, and I figured if I ain't found the fuckers who did this in fifteen years, I ain't gonna. Might as well go on and live the rest of my life." She nodded at that. "I, uh, don't have any family that I know of. It's pretty much just me. Don't have any friends either. I kinda avoided attachments 'cause you never know who you can trust, you know? That's-that's another reason I thought this way might be better. We both go into it pretty much with eyes open, no hidden agendas or shit." She nodded again. "So, uh, what about you?"

"I'm seventeen. I'm from Mississippi. Oh, sorry. Sorry. I already said that." She gave a brief apologetic frown, then went on. "I-my family didn't really want me around when they found out I was a mutant. I ran away, but-" She was cut off by a sharp intake of breath, almost a sob, that caught them both by surprise. She put her napkin to her mouth and her eyes started to water a little.

"Hey, hey, it's OK. You're not gonna get hurt with me, OK? I'm sorry about that, about all what you musta been through."

"Sorry." She tried to stop the tears, and turned her head away when she noticed the waitress approaching with their pizza. Logan made some small talk with her while she unloaded the tray. Taking one last sniffle, then resolutely steadying herself, the girl turned back to Logan with a watery smile and repeated, "Sorry."

"It's OK. Come on, eat up before the pizza gets cold." For the first time, he was having a second thought or two about this whole thing. He'd thought whatever girl he bought, he'd be doing her a favor. He wasn't a sicko, he wasn't looking to hurt her, and he'd give her a place to live and a life if she wanted it. But looking at this scared little girl across the table, he began to wonder if he'd gone about this whole thing the wrong way.

"It's good," she commented after taking a bite. "Thanks." She smiled at him, and it had something genuine in it for the first time. He smiled back reflexively, a response which he'd never had before.

They drove west and south throughout the day, talking a little, but mostly in comfortable silence. He thought she might bolt when she asked to use the washroom at the pizza place, but she didn't. He thought when she went in to try on some clothes at a local discount store, she might try to get away, but she didn't. He thought she might run when they stopped for gas and he left her with the truck while he went inside to pay, but she didn't. He thought about that a little, and decided that it must be either because she didn't mind him too much and believed what he'd said or because she just didn't think she'd be better off on her own at the moment.

"Logan?" Her soft voice broke the silence. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Are we stopping somewhere, or-or do you just pull over and sleep in the camper?"

"I was gonna just pull over and sleep here." He'd cleaned up the camper before going to the auction, and had gotten a sleeping bag big enough to fit two. "I got a sleeping bag for us." He was watching her face to try to gauge her reaction to that. She seemed a little nervous, but not exactly scared.

"OK. You're not-uh, you said we'd wait until we got to your place and got settled in before you, um, did anything, right?"

"Yeah. Don't worry. Just-just sleepin'." He hand an urge to comfort her somehow, and before he even really realized it, his hand was on her leg, rubbing gently. "Don't worry," he repeated.

She looked down at his hand then back up at him and smiled a little. "Thanks." He had the incongruent thought that she shouldn't be thanking him after he bought her like some kind of *thing,* that a little nice treatment was what she deserved, but before he could form it into something coherent to say, she spoke again. "My name's Marie. I-I never told anybody, any of them, that. But it's Marie." She looked shy, and a lot younger than seventeen at the moment.

"Good to meetcha, Marie." He gave a light squeeze to her leg and took his hand away. "You wanna pull in there? That campground might be a good spot to park it for the night. It's a little early, but I think we could both use some sleep." She nodded.

He pulled in, paid the fee, and found a spot, all the while thinking about Marie-her reactions to him, his to her, and the whole situation. He did pick a good one, he thought, and she seemed to be relaxing around him a little. So why was he still bothered by something about the way he'd acquired her? By the time he finished laying out the sleeping bag and taking off his boots, he decided to put those thoughts aside, at least for the night. "Go ahead, you get in first."

Marie did as he said, somewhat apprehensively. "Be careful of my face. Everything else is covered."

"Sure." He followed after her, and was a little startled when she squirmed to her side to face him. He lay on his side as well, trying to make an expression of reassurance. "Comfy?" She nodded a little. "Wanna talk?" Never in my life have I uttered those words, he thought dryly.

"Can you tell me more about you? You know, what kinds of things you like."

"You mean, just, generally?" She nodded. "OK. I, uh, like beer. But you already know that." He was pleased that she smiled at the joke. "I like hockey, sports of all kinds pretty much. Except golf. Too boring." And no chance for bloodshed, he added silently. "I like bein' outdoors. That's why I picked a place that was out in the mountains, pretty remote. I'm not too fond of cities and people. Just too much commotion, ya know, and it's hell on my hearin' and smell. Too much. I-I probably should tell ya I make most of my money by fightin' in cage matches. I fight good, and my mutation helps out some there, so it's a livin'."

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"Uh, no. No. Most of the women I've known, well, it's been kinda the night or two variety."

"So why.."

"Why buy ya?" He flinched a little at his own tactless words, but pressed on. "Time to make a change, I guess. Just wanted someone to hang out with, do stuff with. Got tired of bein' by myself. Plus, with women ya just meet, like in a bar or somewhere, you never know what you're gettin'. Maybe they wanna steal from ya or maybe they freak out as soon as they figure out that you're a mutant. You just don't know." He could feel her warmth next to him now. He was glad they weren't touching because his body was beginning to react to it. "What about you, what do you like?"

"I like sports too, but I don't know anything about hockey. Football. My dad liked football and I learned it." A sad look came over her. "I used to like to draw, you know, in school. My teachers always said I was good at it. I've never really had a boyfriend. My mutation-it-it kicked in the first time I tried to kiss a boy. I almost killed him."

"Sorry."

"Yeah," she answered, trying to pull herself together a bit. "I like pizza a lot. It's my favorite food." She gave an impish little smile with that, and Logan found himself wondering how many different smiles she had and whether he would get to know them all. "I've never had a beer until today, but it was OK. It was pretty good." The smile faded and a serious look took her over. "I really appreciate you getting me back there, I want you to know. It was-it was the sixth auction they'd taken me to and after every time I didn't sell, they-" A big, heaving sob interrupted her, but she continued. "They beat me up. I really appreciate you being nice and feeding me and not, you know, raping me and killing me." The stark words were sincere, Logan knew, and that strong urge to comfort her rose again.

"Hey, hey. It's gonna-you're gonna be OK with me, I promise. None of that's gonna happen with me. You don't hafta think about it any more." He reached out a tentative arm to rub her shoulder a little. More tears fell and her breathing became irregular. "Hey, it's-it's OK. You're OK now."

She slid over toward him a little and laid her head on his chest while she cried harder. Both of his arms came up around her, and he frowned. He didn't know what else to say, so he just let her cry it out. After a while, her tears slowed, and she whispered, "Sorry" against his chest. He gave her a little squeeze in reply. She shifted her head to look at him through wet, bloodshot eyes. "Sorry," she repeated.

"It's OK." He found himself stroking her hair, then her back, as they just lay there and gazed at one another. He was surprised by how good it felt to him to give her comfort, how natural it all seemed given that it was something he'd never done before in all of his remembered life. At length, he felt her small arms curl around him and her tiny hands stroke his back a little in return. He liked that too, and watched in fascination as her expression slowly shifted from pained to shy to soft. When her eyes began to blink closed periodically, he knew she was ready for sleep. He continued stroking her until she fell off, taking the feel and smell of her in, and wondering again just what he'd gotten into with her.

They drove west for two days uneventfully. They'd come to the western edge of Ontario and decided to stay in a campground for the night. Logan chose a remote spot, and Marie began to prepare the sleeping bag for them to settle into. They'd both become more comfortable with one another, and Logan had even gotten a laugh out of her today.

"It's cold tonight," Marie commented as she crawled into the bag and scooted over to leave room for Logan.

"Yeah. We're gonna hafta get you some more clothes before we head up into the mountains." Logan slid in carefully beside her, then zipped them both in. He shifted a little, bringing his knees into contact with hers. Each night, they'd slept curled together, but he always waited for her to scoot over toward him.

"Thanks for that." She made a small scoot. "It's nice to have clothes." Another small scoot.

"Hey, you know, if this is gonna work out, you don't hafta be thankin' me all the time. If we're gonna stick together it's, you know, the both of us."

She smiled at that, in a way that was bold, especially for her, almost flirting. "I think I'd like to try it out and see. I mean, I think what you said was right, maybe it's not, you know, the normal way to get together, but we're not exactly normal people either and I think I kind of like you." There wasn't a hint of shyness about her as she said it, and he marveled at that. The words she'd said-that she wanted to try it out-surprised him too. She'd refrained from comment on her thoughts about the whole thing for the most part. "Maybe you'll like me too and it'll all be OK. It's-it's about time something in my life went right, you know? I can't have all bad luck, there's got to be some good luck in there somewhere."

"Damn right." He smiled at her, flirting back a little. Then something came out, almost of it's own volition. "I'm glad you're not scared of me. I'm glad you know I won't hurt ya."

Her expression turned serious for a moment. "If you wanted to, you probably would have by now. And I don't get-I don't get that feeling, that scared feeling, in my gut when I'm with you. I'm really hoping I'm right about you."

His hand reached out to caress her, and he almost touched her bare cheek with his bare hand before catching himself and redirecting. His hand settled in her hair, tangling in it a little. "You are." He regarded her for a few moments, enjoying the pleased look on her face, enjoying the softness of her hair and the very pleasant smell of her up close. "Marie, when are you gonna turn eighteen?"

Her nose crinkled a little, but her eyes stayed warm. "Why?"

"'Cause I was thinkin' maybe we wouldn't do anythin' until after that. I was thinkin' that you might wanna, you know, be legal and all before we did anythin'. It might be nicer for you that way." Her eyes teared up. That definitely wasn't the reaction I was hoping for, he thought. That was supposed to make her happy, make her feel better.

"I turn eighteen in December. But-but it doesn't really matter to me. It doesn't really matter anymore." She let the tears fall but struggled out a smile at him.

"I don't wanna-I feel bad that I bought ya and dragged you along with me this far. I just-I thought it would be a way to do somethin' right by you to make up for that." He reached out with his free arm and gathered her to him. She unresistingly rolled onto his chest and let him continue to stroke her hair.

"You're not dragging me anymore," she whispered. "I don't want to be by myself either. You're-you seem OK, and you've been really nice to me so far. I'm not really doing right by you either. I don't have anything to offer you-you know, no money, deadly skin, very few survival skills." She let out a small laugh at that. "But I bet you've figured that one out already."

"You've survived a helluva lot, Marie. You're strong." He kissed the top of her head. "And I do think we should wait until you're eighteen. Just 'cause-just 'cause it'll make me feel better, OK?" He felt her nod and clutched her a little tighter. "When in December?"

"December second." He was inwardly relieved that it was sooner rather than later. "I was born at six-fifteen a.m., if you want to get specific about it." She chuckled a little and he did too.

"Well, then," he said kindly, "I know what we'll be doin' at six-sixteen on December second." He was happy that she laughed a little.

"Do you think my skin-well, we'll have to be careful, I guess."

"I thought of a few things. And yeah, we'll have to be careful. But I think we can get the job done."

She picked up her head to look at him. "You know, I'm actually looking forward to that." She caught herself a little, then continued, "It's just that after-after my dad and then the guys who had me and everything that's happened-after all that, I didn't think I'd ever want a man to touch me again. It seems like all my life the only reason any of them have ever laid a hand on me was so that they could hurt me."

"Your dad hit ya?" She nodded. "Bastard."

She shrugged. "He was an alcoholic. His dad hit him. It's all he ever knew."

"Don't make it right." Logan was angrier than he'd thought he would be at that. Nobody was supposed to hit Marie, ever.

"Guess not." She reached up to caress his face with a gloved hand, tracing her thumb across his cheek and lips. "But you gave me your word that you wouldn't hurt me and I believe you." She gave him one last smile before snuggling her head against his chest again.

"I promise, Marie. I promise that'll never happen." He clutched her tightly, and waited until she had slipped into a content sleep before letting himself drop off as well.

Marie never knew what happened until it was too late. She felt a warmth in her chest, followed immediately by a sharp stab of pain that roused her from sleep. Her eyes flew open and she tried to draw a breath in, but somehow couldn't. Her eyes focused and she saw Logan, looking horrified, and holding three large metal knives that were implanted in her chest. No, not knives, she thought absently, those are the claws. Hmm. They *are* metal.

"Marie!" He looked frantic, panicked, and she'd never seen it on him. She took another choking half-breath and tried to smile at him a little. She wanted to convey that she wasn't mad, she understood. It was a nightmare, one of the ones he'd warned her about. It was an accident, and besides, it seemed as though it was just her destiny to be the object of violent attack. It was really her fault, she thought as the claws withdrew from her chest, she'd brought her curse or bad luck or whatever you wanted to call it, down upon Logan.

Thinking that she would be dead in another breath or two and wanting to somehow let him know that it wasn't his fault, she reached out to touch his face. Her hand was gloved, so there was no danger of absorbing him as she had others. She remembered how she cried and cried when she talked about her mutation and how it worked while they were driving. She remembered how Logan only looked concerned and patted her leg and let her get it all out. Her gloved fingers met his face and his entire expression changed in an instant. Suddenly, she felt herself being pulled toward him, felt his lips descending on hers. His bare lips on hers. She felt and tasted only blood for a moment, then Logan, then the pull began.

She waited for a moment, thinking that she'd die and the pull would end, thinking that Logan only wanted one kiss before she was gone. But as he poured into her, she realized what he was doing, and began to struggle against him. He'd die, she thought, and I can't live with that. But his grip was strong even as she drained him, even as she felt the agonizing but healing burning go through her. As soon as she was strong enough, she shoved him away firmly, watching him fall to the floor, twitching. She was about to implode-about to break because she'd killed him, but then it hit her. Twitching. He was twitching which meant he was still alive, at least
a little.

She knelt beside him and tried to calm his thrashing movements or at least cushion his head against the floor. In a few seconds, he stopped convulsing, and for a moment Marie was every bit as breathless as she had been with three metal claws in her chest, waiting for him to respond, to take a breath of his own. He did, and then he took another, and finally Marie breathed again too. His eyes were still closed, but he was breathing normally now and he had good color, not like the others she'd drained. She thought about his mutation and for the first time thanked God for making a world with mutants in it.

She positioned herself so that he rested on top of her, so that she could put her hand over his heart to feel it pumping and feel his chest rise and fall. After a few long minutes, his eyes fluttered open and found hers. "Marie?"

"Shhh. Don't talk. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Logan. You really-you shouldn't have done that. I could've killed you."

"I'm sorry. I promised not to-not to hurt you and I just-" She couldn't tell whether he broke of in frustration or exhaustion, and it didn't much matter to her at this point. All she cared about was that he was alive, that she hadn't killed him.

"It's OK. It's OK. It was an accident, I know. It's OK."

"But I promised," he sighed.

"You risked your life to fix it. That's a pretty good way to keep your promises." She stroked his chest a little, trying to soothe him like he usually soothed her.

"Sorry." His eyes closed again, and he fell into sleep. Marie stayed awake, watching over him.

Logan was quiet the whole next morning. By the time they'd stopped for lunch, Marie had reached her limit. They were sitting in the truck, sorting out whose McDonald's hamburgers were whose, when she decided she'd had enough.

"I miss you."

"What?"

"I said I miss you. I don't like this mopey guy who took your place."

He smiled at that before he could catch himself. But he did catch himself. "Look, I've been thinkin'. Maybe-maybe this whole thing wasn't such a good idea. Maybe I'm just not cut out for company. I could get ya someplace safe, maybe to a-"

"You want to get rid of me?" The playfulness that had shone in her eyes had been replaced by surprise and hurt.

"I-I don't wanna hurt you, OK? It's just-it's just inevitable that-"

"No. I mean, nothing's inevitable. We can-if there are ways to deal with my skin, then there are ways to deal with your nightmares. We can figure it out." He was smelling fear, and more than a little nervousness coming off her now, and he didn't quite know what to make of that.

"Marie, you're-you're young, and you still got a chance to make somethin' outta your life. It was wrong. It was wrong of me to think I could buy someone to live with. It'd be wrong of me to keep you now, knowin' I could kill ya any second. I-I don't *want* that, don't you understand?"

Her lips got very trembly and big, wet tears gathered in her eyes. "You don't want me anymore?"

He let out a sigh. "No, no baby, that's not it. It's not-it's not right. You'd be in danger from me. You deserve a whole lot better."

"But there isn't anything better. I-you're the only person who's really been decent to me in my whole life. I-I-don't make me leave that, please. I don't want to give that up." It was the first time she'd said 'please' since that first day. Logan didn't especially like hearing it now-partly because he knew it meant she was hurting and partly because it made him sorely tempted to just give in. "I finally found somebody I like, somebody who's good to me, please." She was crying in earnest now.

"Darlin', lotsa people are gonna be good to you. You don't wanna hook yourself up to some fucked up old guy like me just 'cause I'm the first one to come along." She just cried more at that. "Marie, come on, you can't-you don't wanna go to sleep every night wonderin' if I'm gonna kill ya before mornin' do ya? I know I don't want that."

"W-we can f-f-figure something out." She was barely getting words out between the sobs. He couldn't resist the urge to at least put a comforting hand on her thigh. "Please, Logan, pl-please."

"But, Marie-"

"No. No. Don't say it. Don't say you don't want me with you." She broke off for a moment to let out more long sobs. "You do. I have you in my head now, and I know you do. That's so strong, it's all I can feel from you."

"I'm so sorry about that, darlin'." He didn't know which part he meant-being in her head or the fact that he *did* want her with him. "But-"

"No," she cut him off again. "No. I don't want to go. I don't want to. I want to finish driving with you. I want to see the Rockies with you. And on December second, I want to be with you. With you. Not by myself, not with some-some jerk. I want you."

"I ain't no prize, darlin'." He was already losing resolve. Hearing her say those words-he'd felt the warmth spread through him and was already thinking of how he might ameliorate the effects of the nightmares or protect her from the claws or both.

"Yeah, well, I'm not worth the $2500 you paid for me either." She was trying to calm down, trying to stop the tears.

"I didn't pay no $2500." She frowned at that and more tears came. "I paid $5000, the askin' price. You're worth every penny and a helluva lot more than that besides." Her tears were washed away by surprise, now clearly written across her face. "You're priceless, kid." She smiled and cried all at once at that, and he couldn't stifle a little chuckle. "Look at ya, look at how beautiful you are, even when you're cryin' you're beautiful."

"Then keep me. Keep me, Logan." He wavered just visibly enough for her to know she was winning. "Please, please-I want to stay with you. We can think of something to keep us both safe. We can figure it all out. Please. I want to be with you."

He didn't say any words of agreement, but he took her gloved hand in his and kissed it once, gently. She smiled, then hugged him. She knew he'd keep her, knew she'd won. We've both won, she thought, he just doesn't know it yet.

"Mmmph." Something was nudging at Marie's shoulder, and that was her response to it. It was still dark out, she somehow knew without even opening her eyes, and there was no way she was getting out of bed before the sun came up.

"Wake up, darlin'." Logan shook her gently once more, then crawled into her bed with her. It was the one way they could be sure that she'd be safe during the night-separate queen-size beds-but he usually crawled in with her when he woke, watching her sleep an hour or so before waking her himself. He didn't usually try to wake her up when he climbed in, and that registered enough with Marie's sleepy brain to make her reluctantly open her eyes.

"What's up?" She turned to face him, smiling sleepily. Even if he was waking her up, having Logan in close proximity was a good thing. She'd been pretty much glued to his side in the weeks they'd spent at his cabin. He didn't seem to mind too much.

"It's six-sixteen. I set the alarm." He ran a gentle, gloved hand along her side.

"Too early to get up," she mumbled, closing her eyes once more.

"Even on your birthday?" His hand roamed lower, caressing her hip.

Her eyes snapped open at that. "My birthday? My-it's today!" She sat up like a shot and he just looked at her quizzically. Her initial happy, excited smile melted into a sensual, warm one. "It's my birthday."

"Uh-huh." Logan lay back on the bed and watched her.

"You want to do it right now, don't you?" The way she'd begun stroking his t-shirt covered chest told him that she pretty much wanted to too.

"Uh-huh. Wanna?"

"Yeah. Let me get my gloves. I want to be able to touch you." She twisted around to her nightstand to retrieve them.

"OK, but the rest of your clothes are gonna come off. The birthday girl goes naked." They hadn't done much. He'd kissed her, and touched her a little but not at all below the waist. As much as he was primed to make love to her now, he knew he had to go slow, make it good for her, and keep it light, fun. After all, this was his birthday present to her. Well, one of them.

She turned back around to face him with a smirk. "Naked as the day I was born, huh?"

"Yeah, it goes with the whole birthday theme." He watched as she lay back down beside him, and leaned over to kiss the top of her head when she was settled in. "Happy birthday, baby."

"Thank you. For everything." Her hands were on him again, tracing small patterns along his chest and stomach. "I-I love you, you know?"

"Yeah. Same here." For a few long moments, he marveled at his good fortune in finding her, and in keeping her even after the nightmare. Then he gently lay her on her back and began giving her her birthday present.