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Title: Out of the Extraordinary Author: Terri E-Mail: xgrrl26@yahoo.com Rating: R, adult themes Disclaimer: I don’t own them. Darn. Archive: Dolphin Haven, Peep Hut – anyone else, please ask ;) Feedback: Please? With thanks to the love gods and many, many burnt offerings and sacrifices on top? Good, bad, and ugly welcome……. Summary: Logan and Marie have an imperfect relationship. That’s an understatement. Comments: First off, this one is very personal to me. It reflects a lot of things that get me right in the gut when I think about them and I hesitated quite a bit about posting it. You can blame the encouragement of the betas for seeing it here ;) Second, this has absolutely nothing to do with the current, wonderful, amazing guy in my life (Hi Rob!) – but going into a new relationship, especially one that’s turning out to be so different (in a very, very good way) than anything else in my past has made me ponder quite a bit over past relationships and what went wrong therein. Logan and Marie manage to pretty much pull their bacon out of the fire here, but in real life, I’ve never had the Love Gods feel benevolent enough towards me to whip me up a happy ending when things have gone this wrong. They’re being awfully nice to me lately, those fickle deities, by presenting me with such a good guy, so maybe I’ve done something to endear myself to them. Whatever the cause, I’m willing to offer up all kinds of sacrifices and even do a few ritual dances to stay on their good side ;) -------------------------------------------------------- It was the thunder that woke him. The humidity had kept him from achieving a deep sleep all night, though. Even if the mansion’s huge air conditioners blunted the thickness of the air to everyone else’s satisfaction, they didn’t make nearly enough of a dent to suit his enhanced senses. He rolled over, automatically seeking his bedmate. As usual, she was on her side, riding the edge of the bed. The first night they’d ever shared a bed, not just sex, she’d plastered herself to him, but that night she’d accidentally gotten him with the little strip of exposed skin between her sleeve and glove. He’d offered to quit sleeping shirtless, but she’d joked that she liked the sight of him topless first thing in the morning too much to give it up. She’d put on even more clothing and hugged the mattress edge ever since. It wasn’t that he wasn’t generally satisfied with how things were going with Marie; he was. Jean was well in the past. Her death, and miraculous resurrection, had somehow allowed her to change her mind about which man her heart belonged to. But much to his surprise and chagrin, Logan’s own heart had changed within mere months of finally getting Jean to share his bed. He broke things off, gentlemanly about it, in his own way, but it took the death of the Phoenix and yet another resurrection for Jean to get past it. He knew Scott tried to convince himself that the version of Jean that had gone to Logan’s bed wasn’t the *real* Jean, just an interim impersonator, animated by the Phoenix force and acting out like some combination of wild teenager and hungry god. But Logan knew differently. There was plenty of Jean in that incarnation – or at least enough of her that he recognized the things that had attracted him in the first place. In fact, the surprise actually *wasn’t* that there was some Jean left in there; the surprise was just how little Phoenix there really was. Of course, these were not thoughts he shared with Scott. Let the man think what he wanted. In the end, it really made no difference to Logan even if Scott was right about things. The important thing was that being with Jean had gotten his unrequited emotions out of his system and allowed him to think more clearly about what he really wanted. It didn’t take him long to realize that the long-unidentifiable something he really craved was Marie, but it had taken years to convince her of that. She was understandably distant and skittish after Jean’s death (both of them) and Logan couldn’t find it in his heart to blame her for thinking she’d be thrown over after a few months, just like Jean had. She’d told him once that she understood if he needed to get her out of his system too; he hadn’t been able to find the words to say that what he wanted was to get more of her in him, to get all of her in. He struggled for years, literally, to not push, yet to keep letting her know he was interested. Nothing ever seemed to work. But finally, a mission came along, one which resulted in rarely-suffered serious injuries for him. Marie was at his bedside when he woke up and had been at his side ever since. They never talked about it; it just was. It always seemed extraordinary to him that Marie could let him in at all, and even if she wasn’t willing to give him all of herself, he’d gotten a hell of a lot more than he ever thought he’d might. All in all, having Marie in his life was an amazement to him. Lightning flashed, and Logan silently drank in the profile of Marie illuminated by the bolt. He held his breath, counting the seconds until he heard the thunder, trying to gauge how far away the lightning strike was. He waited one, two, three, four, five, six, seven seconds. It had to be far off. He’d wait for the next strike and count again to see if it was coming closer or moving away. He definitely wasn’t going to wake Marie up if the storm was already passing over. No, scratch that - he wasn’t going to wake her at all. Sleep was hard to come by for her, and it got rudely cut off too many times, courtesy of some urgent save-the-world crap or other. Tonight was a quiet and ordinary night so far, thank God, and it was best to take advantage of it. Logan very much wanted Marie to rest while she could, and tried to put out of his mind the kind of scorching nights they’d had early on when he had acted on the impulses the sight of a sleeping Marie naturally created in him. She always said she didn’t mind, and she often joked that in fact, she encouraged it, but deep down he felt like something about it made her sad. It wasn’t in her expression or her words, not even her scent, but something was there. Another flash came, with six seconds of silence following it. The storm was getting closer, not further away. Logan sighed, and let his eyes wander over Marie’s slumbering form. She was hugging her pillow tightly to her head, with her legs stretched straight, all the better to hug the last millimeter of mattress space with. That couldn’t be comfortable, Logan surmised, but she insisted on sleeping that way. Rearranging her only woke her, and snuggling up to her back only made her squirm away and fall off the bed. His reassurances that the jolt she’d given him that one time wasn’t so bad were invariably met with a kind smile and a ‘thank you for saying that, sugar,’ but her sleeping position never changed. It was like that with her a lot, actually – she’d say things were just fine or make some joke and change the subject when he got up the nerve to try to bumble through a discussion of something troubling him about their relationship. Logan was no big fan of talking out one’s feelings, but he didn’t like it when Marie did this; in fact, he hated it, but he felt like he could hardly chastise her for not sharing her feelings when he’d rebuffed them so strongly during his infatuation with Jean. He didn’t have any other ideas about how to approach things, so he resigned himself to trying to believe that everything was as OK as Marie always assured him it was. Idly, he ran a hand down the length of her back, under the covers and back up again - light enough not to disturb her, but substantial enough to give him the feel of her warmth on his fingers. He tried *not* to remember the last time he’d awakened her, months ago. She’d rolled over, looked at him with sleepy eyes and a smile, and then had slid beneath the covers to roll a condom over him and take him into her mouth, all without saying a word. He’d finished quickly, more quickly than he’d have liked, but he couldn’t hold back when she pleasured him that way. Marie caressed him afterward, then took care of the condom and rolled right back over to go to sleep. Whispering words of affection and thanks, he told her he wanted to return the favor. She shook her head no, just barely, but relented after several long moments of touching and kissing in all her favorite spots. Watching her get off made him hard all over again, and it was mid-morning before their bed saw its occupants sleep. Lightning flared again, followed by a scant four seconds of silence this time. Logan watched as Marie shifted in her sleep, and hugged the pillow tighter. He was filled with the absurd urge to somehow hold back the storm, to protect her from it, to let her sleep go on undisturbed. She always said he was overprotective of her; it was his dirty little secret that those feelings stemmed more from anger and helplessness over the hurts he’d inflicted himself than from concern for her. Oh, make no mistake - there was concern for her, a wealth of it. It’s just that his self-flagellation came in an even more abundant supply. But she hated when he got like that, when he tried to apologize for past crimes, both real and perceived. It was one of the few things that made her well and truly angry with him. ‘Don’t beat yourself up over it, Logan,’ was her favorite response, and one she typically issued in a thoroughly disgusted tone, ‘What’s done is done.’ God, he knew that was true. What he couldn’t figure out was why she seemed to be insulted by any attempt to talk about it. Sometimes, she seemed every bit as much an enigma to him as the Phoenix version of Jean did to Scott. Yes, there were glimpses of the sassy, bright, open girl he’d first come to know her as, but there was another Rogue in her too, one that had a sharp tongue and a sharper temper, one that had foregone exploring the world and the people around her in favor of vigilantly defending herself against those very things. He knew she even defended herself against him, kept part of her spirit and soul pushed back behind her Southern-belle, Steel Magnolia, vixenish persona. He did know her well enough to know it was just a persona, not to be confused with the real Marie, just as he sometimes put his ‘animal’ persona front and center, leaving the real Logan in the background. At least he was pretty sure that’s what it was. More lightning, and only two seconds before the thunder. Marie shifted again, and blinked her eyes open just in time to get them overwhelmed by the light from the next streak of lightning. “Dammit,” she cursed softly. “Didn’t know you talked in your sleep, darlin’,” Logan teased, letting the hand that had been hovering over her shoulder drop down for an affectionate squeeze. “Hmph.” She closed her eyes again, but rolled onto her back, closer to him. He knew that was a sign she was going to stay awake – she never got closer to him when there was any danger of her falling asleep again – but he wanted to whisper that she should go back to sleep anyway. “It’s just a storm,” he said, the unspoken ‘not an alarm, not a mission, not a crisis’ hanging in the humid air between them. “Go on and get some more sleep.” “I’m awake now,” she argued softly, finally opening her eyes for good. She surprised him by turning on her side so that they faced one another. “How long have you been up?” “Couplea minutes,” he allowed. She nodded, then blinked, and much to Logan’s surprise, she looked and smelled for a few seconds like she might really go back to sleep. “You talk in your sleep, you know,” she mumbled. Before Logan could respond, she flinched, and her brown eyes were wide open, focused directly on his. She looked exactly like she did when she was in battle, and about to be attacked. It unsettled Logan, to the core. “I mean – forget I said that.” “Why?” It was all he could think to say while his brain scrambled to figure out just what the hell was wrong with him talking in his sleep – or more precisely what was wrong with him knowing she knew he talked in his sleep. When she just lowered her eyes in reply, he asked, “Did I say somethin’ to you?” “Just forget it,” she whispered. Her eyes met his briefly, but then she rolled back over, putting her body on the edge of the mattress again. “I’m going to go back to sleep.” “Don’t,” Logan got out, mentally still running through possibilities. “Do you want to – ” “No. I mean – I wanna talk. Did I say somethin’ to you in my sleep? Somethin’ to make you upset?” “You don’t make me upset.” Equal parts hard and appeasing. Odd tone. Logan still couldn’t figure it out. “Let’s just go back to sleep, OK?” “No. Marie – look, just tell me what I said to piss you off, all right?” No response. “If I said somethin’ in my sleep, I probably didn’t mean it or I wasn’t talking to you or – ” “Leave it be, Logan.” His throat felt tight all of a sudden. She hardly ever snapped at him like that, in that sour, lecturing tone. “Just let it go, OK? I want to go back to sleep.” The softness was back in her voice, with a tinge of apology infusing it. “Stupid storm, waking me up on the one damn night the house alarm doesn’t. Why the hell is ‘Ro vacationing in Africa during spring storm season anyway?” There was the brash Southern Belle. Logan had seen her run through moods before, but never quite so fast. All of a sudden he felt like this was it somehow, like he was losing her. “Just tell me,” he asked, in as close to a pleading tone as he’d ever come. “What did I say, Marie?” “Forget it, would you?” “No.” “Hmph.” She wiggled and rustled the covers, but didn’t give an answer. “For the love of Christ, Marie, please just tell me - ” “You said you hated me, OK? You said it when they brought you in, when you were hurt. You said you hated me for not giving you a second chance after Jean and that I was ruining your whole life. You said you hated me. I asked you twice, and you answered me twice that you hated me for that. Happy now?” Suddenly, his heart clenched. But if she’d thought that he really did hate her, just why the hell did she finally agree to get together with him after that? “But then……..” He realized he sounded like the very epitome of cluelessness, but he had to know. “Because I can’t stand that, all right? Are you happy now? I’m so pathetic that I can’t stand you hating me; I can’t stand it so damn much that I gave you the fucking second chance even though I know how it’s all going to end. I’m not actually stupid, OK? I know what’s going to happen in the end. Now can we just leave it alone? You got your answer. You got it, and now you can beat yourself up over and over and over until we both feel guilty as hell. There. I just keep right on causing you pain. Good old Marie, always able to provide anguish, both physical and mental. So that brings us right back to the status quo, doesn’t it? You hate me, I hate me for making you hate me and for not being strong enough not to give a shit if you hate me, and so now I’m in your bed and in your life and we both hate this shitty relationship. But hey, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You’re happy, I’m happy, everybody’s *fucking* happy, so let’s just go to sleep.” Logan lay in silence, listening to the loud crack of thunder right on the heels of the last bolt of lightning. It hadn’t even taken a second for the thunder to resonate. The storm was right on top of them now. He saw Marie’s cheek glisten with wetness in the lightning-flash – she was crying despite her angry words. “Hey – look at me.” She turned her body so that he couldn’t see her face at all now. “Look at me,” he demanded, yanking at her shoulder when she didn’t immediately comply. When he finally brought her around, he almost regretted it and lost his nerve – there was more than a little anger in her eyes – but he held his ground. “I don’t hate you.” “Bullshit. You tell the truth when you’re like that, Logan, I know it – you talk in your sleep all the time. And you always tell the truth.” “Aw, Marie, how the hell would you know if I always – ” “You keep your cash hidden in the lockbox in your truck, in case you have to get the hell out of here in a hurry. You had Hank research the drugs they tried to take you down with the last time Stryker attacked the mansion so you won’t get taken by the government again if they come knocking down the door. You jerk off in the shower most mornings because you’re afraid to ask me for morning sex – after all, you don’t want me to think I’m the average bimbo that you usedta take back to your camper for a quick screw.” Logan winced. She was mimicking him, and he knew in his gut he’d said those exact words. “You think your new Indian is ‘cool’ and you like that Scott is jealous of it. You get pissed that your healing factor doesn’t always take care of the pimples on your back. And you secretly like ABBA. You talk in your fucking sleep, OK, Logan? And you always tell the truth. God knows I didn’t want to believe you about ABBA.” She was still mightily pissed, but a bark of laughter escaped Logan with her last words. She smiled too, after a beat, but it was a sad smile. “I just didn’t know what else to do,” she continued, quietly. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I didn’t want to be with you. I don’t – I can’t trust you with my – with me. I can’t trust you with me. I know that one day, just like it was with Jean, that’ll be it. You’ll get tired of me, and it’ll be over. You didn’t say you loved me, Logan, when you were out of it, you said you hated me, and I know that’ll be at the bottom of it all. I know how it’s going to wind up, and I don’t know if I can handle it, but I couldn’t just let you be……..I couldn’t just keep on hurting you, OK? And the ugly truth is that I kind of hate you too, for putting me into a corner, for making me *have* to choose you. I wanted just one thing, just one goddamn thing on my own terms, but no, I can never have that with you, can I?” Logan was silent. Marie sighed, deflated, and sunk back down into the bed. But before she could finish shaking her head and say whatever was coming next, Logan found at least a few words. “I guess I was pissed at you. I know it ain’t fair. I know it ain’t…………..mentally healthy. But I never meant to let you know that. I never meant to push you inta anythin’. Marie – I wanted to give things to you on your own terms. I waited *years* for you to – to say OK, to come to me. I didn’t ever lay a hand on another fuckin’ woman all that time. I wanted you, but I wanted it to be what you wanted.” He was speaking from the heart, and she knew it. “Darlin’, I – I’m sorry. This – this whole thing, it stops now. I don’t wantcha here thinkin’ that I’m gonna hurt you in the end, that you can’t trust me. If you don’t know those things, don’t feel them, then I don’t wantcha here, as much as I wantcha here. I mean – ” “I think I get it,” Marie said softly. Another crack of thunder was heard, and it made the room tremble. Neither one of them had noticed the lightning that had preceded it, but they both shivered a little at the vibration running through the room. “You know, if I’d have had just a little more time, just a *chance* to really decide for myself, I would’ve – I think I would’ve said OK, let’s try. But after that, I couldn’t even make the decision. It was made for me, and I couldn’t………” “I think I get it,” Logan whispered. They exchanged half-smiles in the light of another lightning strike. “You’re gonna get what you want, though. You’re gonna have the decision back. I promise – I swear I won’t hate you, no matter which way it goes. I mean I might – I might feel that way a little, but trappin’ you inta somethin’ is a helluva lot worse.” And it went a long way toward explaining why she’d been acting so defensive, so closed. Logan felt like smacking himself on the forehead, felt like he’d been oblivious to what was right in front of him all this time. He had to find a way to make it right with her, he had to. “I want you with me,” he whispered. “But only if you wanna be here. Go on, darlin’ – go on back to your room if you want. I’ll……….I’ll be here, if you wanna come back sometime.” She looked at him with wide eyes, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could see right through them, right down to her soul. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” She scrunched up her nose, and rose from the bed, clutching one of the blankets around her. She didn’t move for the door, she just stood next to the bed, her eyes staring out the window. Logan watched her, and surreptitiously slid his fingers toward the edge of her blanket, the tiny piece of it still trailing across the mattress. He gave it a little tug, one that would be imperceptible to her, but one he just somehow felt compelled to make. “It’s really storming outside.” Her voice sounded strange, almost relaxed, in spite of everything they'd just said. “Yeah, but I think the worst passed us over.” “Yeah? How can you tell?” “The gap between when you see the lightning and when you hear the thunder gets longer.” Marie’s eyebrows knit together for a moment as she turned back to face him. “Because light travels faster than sound, right?” “That’s right.” Her eyes traveled down his form to settle on where his fingers grasped the blanket. When he caught her looking, he sighed and let go. “Sometimes, when it’s close, I can feel the vibrations from where the lightnin’ strikes a split-second before the sound hits my ears. Feels weird.” “Yeah……….” They stood there transfixed, just looking at one another, until the next flash of lightning came through. A few beats later, the thunder followed. “I guess I should get going. You know, over to my room. I, um, I think there’s some sheets on the bed, still.” “Lemme help ya find some if there ain’t.” Logan rose from the bed and had circled halfway around it to the foot before noticing Marie’s raised eyebrow. “What?” “Will you be doing this naked?” Logan looked down at himself, and nearly blushed. Marie’s eyes flashed and then she laughed, a light, genuine laugh like he hadn’t heard in what seemed like forever. But in the next moment, her expression turned serious. “Is this really about what I want?” “Yeah, it is,” Logan answered with every bit of the certainty he felt, and none of the nerves. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she might not choose him again, that maybe she’d had enough of him altogether. The truth was that he *didn’t* know how he’d handle that; he just knew he had to handle it. After all, he’d promised her it would be her decision to make. “I want you,” she said quietly. “I do. But I………I want you to be happy because of me, not just – not just not hateful because of me. Do you think you can do that?” One last bolt of lightning lit the room. Logan took a deep breath. He thought about it, he thought about it again, and he thought about it one more time, just to make sure. “Yeah,” he breathed, and the word was followed by the gentle roll of thunder off in the distance. “Yeah I do.” “OK, then.” Clutching the blanket, she dove back into bed – on his side of the bed and maybe even a little in the middle of it. “Are you coming to bed?” He could smell her nervousness; he knew that it was all probably too easy and too fast and that there would be more arguments, more misunderstandings, and maybe even more hurt for the both of them before this was well and truly resolved. But he got in bed with her, on his side this time, facing her. “You’re gonna have a hard time gettin’ me outta bed, darlin’, as long as you’re in it.” She smiled, and scooted closer to him, and at last the night was quiet. |