Title: The Glory Of Manticore
Author: Restive Nature
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Dark Angel or to X-men. They belong respectively to Cameron/ Eglee and to Marvel Comics. No infringement is intended and this fiction is for private enjoyment only.
Rating: up to NC-17
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Genre: Crossover
Type: action/ Romance
Pairing: Max/ Logan
Summary: Max is once again on the run. But this time a safe haven awaits her in the form of Professor Xavier’s School for Gifted Children.
Spoilers/ Time line: Post the first movie, for X-men. First season for DA, starting off from Episode “Blah Blah Woof Woof”
Feedback: Always welcome!
Distribution: Ask first please.
Chapter Twenty-three
Max woke with a smile on her face. She hadn't been expecting to sleep, but it was a nice, welcome event. Normally, she needed very little to be able to function like a regular human. Perhaps a few hours a week at most. She could go much longer without. But apparently her body had decided that with Zack around, watching out for her, a relaxing, enjoyable evening and the prospect of a lot of physical activity to look forward to, it was time to shut down for a while.
Logan had left her room about two in the morning, claiming that he needed some sleep and didn't want to wear out his welcome. She hadn't protested, because she had still, while enjoying tearing apart the shows they'd ended up watching, was wondering just how he had realized that Zack had been in her room. He obviously had a heightened sense of smell. She was very aware of her brother's scent, but that was normal things for him. Was it a mutant thing? Or just a Logan's mutation thing? She wasn't sure if she could ask, since they hadn't really been delving into the deep of late. In that way, anyway.
And then there was the wondering about his expectations. He had said that he wanted a private good night. Had he been expecting something more before that little snafu? Did he change his mind because he'd though that she'd had another guy stashed away? Or was a friendly good night all he'd been thinking of in the first place?
She had finished showering, dressing and just in general, being ready for the day. But a glance at the time told her that she was probably way early. She was debating about heading out herself, just for a quick spin around town, or if she should settle in and wait for the others, when there was a knock at her hotel room door.
Coming out of the bedroom swiftly, she wondered if the others were earlier risers than she had thought of them. But a glance through the peephole showed her that it was an employee of the hotel on the other side. She opened her door to him, peeking out. The male, looking to be in his mid thirties, smiling down at her.
“Good morning Miss Guevara,” the man greeted. She couldn't see his name tag, but beside him, she noted the cart. He caught the direction of her glance and gestured down to it. “A complimentary breakfast to start your morning.”
“Oh,” she murmured. She didn't know the service was that good here. And the scents of bacon and other goodies was wafting to her nose. She pulled the door open, quite sure that she could handle herself, should this prove to be a ruse of some sort. “Come in.”
She opened the door wider while the employee, who once he had moved his arm, she discovered was named Rick, easily moved the wheeled trolley into her room. He brought it over to the small table and transferred several covered dishes to the table. Max watched for a moment and then dug into her winning from the evening before so that she had a tip ready. Rick, once done, turned to her and held out a folded slip of paper. With a puzzled glance, she took it from him and flipped it open.
Max, (she read)
Sorry about last night. Didn't mean to be an ass, so when I heard you up and about, thought you might enjoy this.
Logan
Her face softened into a smile and she absentmindedly held out the tip to Rick. He accepted it with a chuckle and then busied himself removing the cart from her room. He wished her a good day and pulled the door shut behind himself. Max glanced from the card to the table that was before her. She leaned over to open the black and gold carafe and sighed appreciatively when the thick curl of the scent of coffee swirled up around her. Pleased, she continued exploring what Logan had thought that she would enjoy. There was the expected bacon, chopped into omelets and served with a generous helping of cheese oozing out from them. There was some fruit and toast and under another tray some fruity little pastries. They all looked bite sized and Max wrinkled her nose up at them. The things rich people enjoyed, she giggled to herself as she shook her head.
It was at that point, when she was trying to decide what she wanted to try first, that she noticed that instead of single servings, there was quite a bit. The suspicion grew as she caught sight of two plates, two cups and the corresponding utensils. Before she could even begin to decided how she would respond, there was another knock at the door. Still holding the card he had written, Max grinned, then wiped it from her face with effort, adopting a serious mien before she yanked the door open. She had to force herself not to allow her jaw to drop.
Logan stood before her, a hopeful look on his face, his hands behind his back in a pose quite similar to a repentant child. She stared up at him for a moment, hanging on to the door and not giving him space to move into the room without forcing her back or getting right in her face. He was as freshly washed as she and there was something about the casual way that he had seemed to just throw on some jeans and a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up a quarter of the way on his forearms. The dusty familiar boots completed the ensemble and she looked up at him and then slowly held the note aloft, quirking an eyebrow as she did.
But instead of pouting, smirking, apologizing further, or any of the thousand responses he could have made, he pulled one that she hadn't even thought of. His right arm moved and very carefully, maneuvered to his front so that she could see what he was holding. There was a very pretty pink flower, she knew that it wasn't a rose and that was about the extent of her knowledge o f flower specimens. It was placed in a clear glass bottle, that looked like a juice bottle you'd get out of a vending machine. There was some water in it and Max moved her eyes from regarding it, back to him.
“To go with your breakfast,” he half shrugged with a gentle smile on his face.
“Uh huh,” she sighed. “You know, two plates? Kind of presumptive of you,” she pointed out and then Logan did grin. He moved his left hand in a repeat of his right and suddenly there was another flower, this one yellow, in the same manner.
“For my room,” he explained with a tiny laugh. And then Max was unable to hold back her giggles.
“Oh get in here,” she ordered him, stepping back. Logan, seeming very much relieved, moved into the room and over to the table, setting his last contribution down. Max pushed the door shut and spun on her heel to move after him. “You know, I wasn't all that upset about last night.”
“Yeah,” Logan nodded as he fidgeted with the glass bottles, setting them i several places on the small table that was already loaded down before he seemed to change his mind and moved them out of the way completely. “But I figured it still didn't hurt to let you know that I hadn't intended any slight. I'm not real good at apologies so I figured I'd let my actions speak for me.”
“By ordering for me, or picking pretty flowers at...” Max began and then looked quizzically at him. “What time did you get up and do that?” Logan shrugged.
“Went for a short run this morning,” he told her. “Clear my head a little. Found them on the way back. Thought you might like them. Wasn't actually sure. You don't strike me as the type...” he trailed off.
Max smiled as he faltered and took a seat before dividing the plates, settling one before her and one at the other chair. Logan moved to join her. “I couldn't say if I am or not,” she mused, her lips twisting slightly as she tried with complete success, to recall if anyone had ever given her flowers. One of her old “boyfriends” which was actually just a heat hook up had bought her a small bouquet of daisies once. And since she had not been interested in a relationship with the guy, she had ended up throwing the flowers out the window so that he'd get the idea. She kind of regretted that, since flowers could be expensive and the little white and yellow flowers had been very brightening. She came back to herself and shrugged one shoulder. “I've only ever gotten flowers once. But all my girlfriends moon over that kind of stuff.” She grinned slyly as she began pouring coffee from the carafe for them. “I guess it depends a lot on the sender too, hmm?”
“I suppose,” Logan agreed mildly. He then glanced down at the food she had uncovered. “Was this all okay? We can always order something else too.”
“This looks great,” Max enthused as Logan accepted a cup from her. “Although,” she went on, gesturing quickly to the plate of assorted mini pastries, “I'm not so sure about what those are supposed to be.”
“The menu said mini assorted pastries,” Logan shrugged. “It was new and different, so I figured, why not.”
“All right then,” Max nodded and with her tacit consent, they began divvying up the food. The meal was excellently prepared and the pastries turned out to be exactly what they were purported to be. The fillings were what varied and when Logan discovered just how much she liked the lemon and the cherry ones, he always pushed them towards her side of the plate. Max laughingly protested, but Logan shrugged. Food was food to him. Didn't need to be anything fancy, just plenty of it for his metabolism. She got that and they talked between bouts of eating.
They covered, touching lightly on so many subjects and were currently chatting about Logan thinking about replacing the truck and camper topper that he had had before joining the school group. She had been about to ask him where he would like to visit or travel to when she noticed that he was staring at her face, his eyes glowing and a smirk slowly growing.
“What?” she demanded softly, worried instantly that she had something on her face.
“It's nothing,” he denied instantly, eyes dropping to his plate.
“No seriously,” Max grunted. “Do I have egg on my face?” That made him laugh, deep and low and he was shaking his head. “Cheese?” she asked next, feeling a little silly as she began reciting the ingredients of their omelets as he continued to laugh.
“No darlin',” he finally gasped out. “I'd have told you long before now if you did.”
“Oh, well that thought's appreciated,” Max sighed as she held her coffee cup before her. “So why with the staring?”
“I was just thinking,” Logan mused, his upper lip curling slightly, “that I really am a simple guy.” The lift of her eyebrows as she took a drink invited him to explain further. “Sitting here, eating breakfast, just talking, I'm just... happy.”
Max lowered her cup and recalled her conversation with Jean from the previous day. “Would it surprise you that I'm pretty much the same?” she teased. He shook his head instantly.
“Not at all,” he agreed instantly, the happy look on his face still in place. “You strike me as the type to appreciate the basic things in life first and all the rest, if it's there, great, if not, you'll survive.”
“Pretty much,” Max agreed with a small nod. “Like this weekend for example.”
“What about it?” Logan wondered. Max shrugged again.
“Out of everything so far,” she murmured, and then gestured at the table, “this is what I'm enjoying the most.”
“Breakfast?” he asked, slanting her an amused look and she laughed.
“It was good, but I guess,” she explained, “it's more just spending time doing the things I like with no pressures. It's always good when I can have days like that.”
“I know what you mean,” Logan nodded, and there was silence for a few minutes as they regarded one another. And then the previous thread of conversation was brought up once more and they just kept on relaxing.
Logan had just been asking her opinion on where they should go after their planned excursion to the museum. If there were any special places from when she had visited before, like the Empire States building, or what was left of it. In the middle of that question, there was another knock on the door, accompanied by Jean's voice, softly calling through the barrier, Max's name.
Max grinned as she glanced at the time and then at Logan. They were long since finished eating and were lingering over some of the brochures tat the hotel had included in it's information packet that was in each room. They'd been talking over the differences of Central Park from pre-pulse to now. Essentially, with it's crime rate still high and various daytime attractions in place, it hadn't changed all that much.
Max pushed herself out of her seat and made her way to the door, as Logan leaned his elbows on the table and watched her. She opened the door wide to see that both Jean and Scott were up and dressed for going out.
Jean smiled at Max and then caught sight of Logan. But she allowed no surprise, pleasure or any other emotion to cross her face. Scott was a different matter once he finally made it into Max's room with her silent invitation of stepping back out of their way.
“Do you guys want some coffee?” Max asked politely. “I think there's some left.” She tried to ignore the staring contest that was suddenly occurring between Logan and Scott. One was amused while the other was not.
“Actually,” Jean shook her head, “Scott and I were going to invite you guys to come with us to this little cafe that makes really good Danishes. You don't want to get them later since they're best in the morning. But if you've already eaten...” she trailed off as Logan instantly broke off his smirking taunting of Scott, who did not look pleased, and she was surprised by that strange role reversal. She knew she would resolve to ask Scott about it later. But she assumed for the moment that it was a male territory thing, or something like that.
The other pair in their foursome exchanged glances and as one, both chuckled and said together, to Jean, “I could go for some Danishes.” Upon realizing that they had spoken as one, the laughter broke out in earnest. There seemed to be some deeper joke there, aside from the obvious, since they'd seemed to have just finished eating.
“Okay,” she spoke slowly, finding their laughter infectious and with one watchful eye on Scott, finding him relaxing slowly, and the other on the pair before her.
“Just let me grab my jacket,” Max told them as she began to turn away and Logan broke out into fresh chuckles.
“I was just about to say that,” he explained. And the pair chuckled again, while Max shook her head in resignation.
Logan watched as Max moved around the room, looking completely natural as she asked Jean about where she and Scott had been planning, if they had, to go sightseeing. Jean was pretty laid back about it all and Scott was following her lead for the most part. It was all up to Max and Logan was fine by that.
After they had settled down the evening before and he had found something that he thought they'd both find interesting, old reruns of a motorcycle building reality show, things had gone well. The show had ended and they'd continued on the with more reality shows that had Max delighted and providing a biting commentary that nearly had Logan in stitches. But along about two in the morning, he felt himself getting tired, more from the time and the day, not from her company.
He also hadn't wanted to push his luck, ending up sleeping in her room, even if it was just on her sofa. There was a line that hadn't fully been defined between them and this weekend was a good time to explore it, but not push it. Logan didn't want the whole thing to topple before it had even begun. As he'd returned to his room, he wondered what he could do to prevent that. He'd already had a few close calls, he realized, with his behavior when she had first shown up at the mansion and his defensiveness around her. While he understood it and it was explainable to newcomers and outsiders, it still wasn't always easy to take.
And so, once he was in bed, the sheets still not having been aired out enough, he distracted himself, thinking of ways that he could make that evening's little blunder up to her. Of course, thinking along those lines got him thinking about the problem as it had occurred to him. How it might be viewed by her. And who the hell it was in Max's room. And his worry that whomever it was, might just be one of these bad guys from her life that she purported was after her. Knowing that his instincts wouldn't allow him to sleep through something bad happening in his vicinity, and he could pretty much count the entire hotel floor as his vicinity, he had dropped off.
The dream that came was most definitely a dream. It was not a memory, he knew that as soon as consciousness had flooded his mind. But the dream had seemed to take on many elements of his worst fears from the dreams he had had before, of the time that he had lost. That little girl's face was prevalent in the dream. But surrounded by many more children just like her. But when Logan had tried to help them, locked away as they were, he could see that there were differences among them. Gender and height were the most obvious among them. But there were other things, scents, sounds, the yelling in unison. Things had swirled and flowed, through the memories and important moments that he'd had in the last decade plus. Of when he'd first woken up, confused and alone, through the fights and nights of insanity. Rediscovering his mutant otherness. The Pulse and traveling. More fighting as always, even up to his introduction to the X-men and rescuing Rogue.
It was as if that little girl and those other children followed him everywhere. Watching him, imploring him, but otherwise not interfering in his life. Like they were not strong enough, quite, to haunt him, until now. Was the little girl just a precursor? Was she really just a figment, instead of a real piece to the puzzle of his life as he had believed? Perhaps she was just a representational figure. The little girl Logan had always feared might be out there, though it didn't have to be a girl, per se. A child that, because of what had happened or been done to him, he might never know of.
These were the questions that began to plague him the moment he woke, surprisingly calm. That had been a relief, that he hadn't shredded sheets or destroyed furniture. He already ran that risk too many times when he forgot his weight and reinforced frame and dropped himself into furniture that wasn't made for it. With the realization of how early it was and the fact that he was sure that he wouldn't be able to reclaim the state of sleep anytime soon, prompted Logan to get out of the hotel for a while.
He hadn't bothered to change out of the sleepwear he had been in. He simply added some socks and his sneakers once more, adding a hoodie and then headed out for a jog. He could care less about the neighborhood they were in. And since he wasn't a minority, he figured he had little to fear from overeager cops looking for a little action to liven up their morning.
He didn't find any answers to the questions, as usual. He did wonder if there was any way they could research army bases that might house children. He figured to put that question to Chuck, if the man didn't read it from him, or if it hadn't already occurred to him. The man had some surprising contacts, perhaps someone in government that they could trust to look into this. Even that thought had Logan shuddering. It reinforced his belief that it was government, or the military at their behest, preforming experiments on him.
With the best resolution he had at the moment, applied to these thoughts once more, and as he was making his way back to the hotel, Logan's thoughts turned back to Max. When he spotted the small planter of flowers and the fact that they didn't seem like they were being tended any longer, since the planter was also rife with some weedy looking dregs, Logan had liberated them without any guilt. Back in the motel, he had purchased some bottles of juice to gulp down and with a plan in mind to make up for his ass-like behavior, headed back up to his room. He was about ready to hop in the shower, when he had heard Max moving around her room. He had continued to listen, hoping that she wasn't having a nightmare like she had had before. But as the sounds moved through her room, he realized that she had just risen early, as he had.
With a happy grin, he had enacted his plan, figuring the prep work would take just long enough for him to get ready. And he had been correct.
He had shown up on her door step as it were, trying his best for repentant and while Max had looked seriously upset, he could tell that she wasn't. With his best guess, she was fighting not to smile and when he had offered up that second flower and the glib comment, she had broken and invited him back in. And through the course of the meal, to be honest, he hadn't really cared what he had been eating, it was the company that he had enjoyed most. When he had admitted that to her, he cold see the pleasure that had lit up her eyes when she admitted to the same thing. But he hadn't needed to hear it from her, he could see it in everything in her. Her body, her eyes, the tone of voice that she used. Even when she was being witty, sarcastic, teasing, there had been pleased undertones that told ll his senses that she was happy to be there. Not there there, in a hotel in New York, but just sharing simple pleasures with him.
Being with her... the past didn't seem to matter. Not the way it always had seemed to before. Logan knew that this was just his feeling though. He could not predict how she would react to all the long held secrets he kept. To his fears and worries. But he still had the sense that she would understand at least. Or keep an open mind. As long as he was honest and went slow, to let her in... It was a heart clenching prospect and he realized, as he sat there watching her, listening to Jean and Scott moving closer to them, prepared for the interruption, to realize that he was going to willingly invite this woman in closer.
When Max had admitted the other couple and Logan had sensed Jean's wariness at the interruption and Scott's over protective vibe, directed in all the wrong assumptions, of course, he could only smirk. The kid was great for championing the underdog. But he made too many of those assumptions when it came to Logan. Simply because they were very different people and Scott was basing his assessment off of his own code of conduct and rules of behavior. It was misplaced at best. Scott didn't realize that they were now in quite the same boat. Instead of having once been uneven rivals for Jeans attention, they were now at the mercy of caring for another person, perhaps more than they cared for themselves.
When he caught Jean's speculative look in his direction, he wondered only momentarily what she might have caught from his mind this time. But it didn't really matter. She would only see bits and pieces, not the whole of it, but he had the feeling that she was canny enough to figure it out quickly, if she hadn't already. But judging from the smile gracing her face as she turned her attention back to the girl in question, she was on the right track. At least more than her boyfriend was.
Max returned from grabbing and donning her coat. Logan had quickly piled up the used dishes, knowing that housekeeping would clean up while they were gone. He needed to grab is coat as well. He ignored Scott's slightly confused sigh when Max made a quip about fueling up even more since she planned on walking their asses off that day. Jean hooked her arm through Max's and announced that they would meet the boys downstairs, so Logan could get what he needed. The females swept out the door, already giggling with one another and Logan felt absurdly pleased that his two favorite women, because honestly, Rogue was still just a kid, were getting along so well.
Standing from the table, he paused for just a moment and then smirked. “Whatever your thinkin' Stretch, don't bother.”
“I'm just wondering if this...,” Scott began, his lips twisting slightly as he turned his head to survey Max's room, “is really the best... course. It's not like Max's stay is going to be... permanent.”
Logan shrugged. He hadn't been talking idly earlier when he mentioned finding another means of travel. The mansion, Chuck, that had been convenient. A place to rest his head and recoup when needed. But it wasn't home to him. At some point down the road it could have been. And while yes, he still wanted answers to the questions of his past, he had a new path to follow, should he choose, wherever she led. But, as he pulled the door to her room shut behind him, he realized that he was kind of putting cart before horse. There were steps to this and he would do well to pay attention to them.
“Who the hell said mine was gonna be either?” was his only parting shot before he slipped into his own room, leaving a slightly frustrated X-man in his wake.
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-four
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