The X-Project

After the log with Scott, found here, Logan force-feeds Marie.

Logan followed Marie down the stairs and, remembering what she'd said the day before, asked, "Have you eaten?"

Marie frowned and considered this. "Since when?" She eyed him suspiciously. -...I had something this morning. I needed chocolate after trying to put you through the ceiling.-

"If you hafta ask, the answer's no." He steered her toward the pantry.

"Logan, I'm /fine/," she protested. "Really, I need to go and look some stuff up so I can talk to Moira about Artie."

"Uh huh," he said disbelievingly, nudging her through the archway into the pantry. He pushed her gently toward a barstool and went about collecting some food. When he was finished, he turned toward her expectantly. "D'you wanna eat here, or upstairs?"

Marie watched him with her chin in her hands, kicking the legs of the stool with her heels. -He's awfully cute when he's fussing,- she thought. "Upstairs is good. I get to walk up there all by myself?" she teased.

He looked at her, then the food he was holding, then her again. "Only if you want to." His tone was only a /little/ suggestive.

"I think I can manage." Marie hopped off the stool and hesitated a moment before letting her feet hit the floor. "I suppose I should be babying /you/, old man, after what I put you through this morning." She landed and led the way upstairs.

He laughed. "Nah. 'm all healed up, now, little girl." He followed her upstairs, arms full of things to entice her to eat.

"So. My place or yours?" she asked as she ran up the stairs in front of him.

"Lady's choice," he offered, only slightly distracted by watching her climb the stairs.

"Mine, I think." Marie stopped and looked over her shoulder at him, catching the distraction with amusement. "That way I can look up a few things while you make me dinner."

Logan raised an eyebrow at her obvious amusement, but nodded. "I'll try not to poison you."

"Well, you'll be up all night with me if you do," she warned and started up the stairs again. "I think we should take Artie somewhere this weekend. You know he thinks the world of you."

He stared at his feet, then started climbing again. "Yeah. He's a good kid. How's he doin'? This is the second time..."

"I know." Marie opened the door of her room for him. "He's not taking it too well. They scared the hell out of him again." Her voice was flat and angry. Her suite was always spotless. Even the laptop computer and papers and books on her dining table were neatly organized as though they belonged there, testament to the fact that it was almost never got used.

He murmured quietly, not sure what to say. "Where'd you wanna take him?" He headed straight for the kitchen, putting down his supplies and getting started on dinner.

Marie closed the door and kicked off her shoes. "I don't know. Why don't we ask him? I'll be out in a second. I don't know why I keep this bra. Remind me to throw it out." She reached up under her sweater to unhook it as she disappeared into the bedroom.

"Throw it out," he muttered, trying to keep his focus on the food. He found himself distracted, though, and gave up for the moment, calling out, "'m I remindin' you to throw out the gloves, too?"

A balled up pair of gloves flew out of the darkened bedroom and hit him on the head, followed by a giggle and then the bedroom door closing.

He gripped the counter, swaying slightly, then went back to preparing dinner. "Thanks," he growled, loud enough for her to hear.

Marie came back out a moment later, wearing a much worn long-sleeved black t-shirt with her jeans instead of the cotton sweater she had worn earlier. "That's better," she announced, flopping into the chair in front of her computer with a sigh and pushing up her sleeves. "I always forget and I think, 'isn't that cute, I'll wear that one', and I end up regretting it. Anyway, I was thinking we could ask Artie what he'd like to do with us. He could use some attention right now, and feeling safe, and you have that effect on some people." She looked up from the screen and gave him a smile.

He turned to look at her, shaking his head slowly. "You two're crazier than I am, thinkin' that way." His gaze drifted to her hands and he smiled. "He's a good kid. Let me know what he wants to do, I'll do it."

"Thanks." Marie pushed her chair back a little, leaning back in it and watching him. "So, am I forgiven for this morning's outburst?"

Logan shook his head, keeping his eyes on what he was doing. "There's nothin' to forgive, hon. 'm not dead." He glanced at her over his shoulder. "And neither are you."

She was relaxed, hands laced together loosely in her lap, just looking at him. "I'm grateful for both those things," she said quietly. "I am sorry for hurting you... not for my reaction. I hope that makes sense."

He nodded, facing his work again. "It does." He spooned something out of a small pot and sniffed, then tasted it. "Like I said, your reaction'll keep you alive." He pulled pasta from one pot with tongs, settling it into shallow bowls, then poured the sauce over it. Flipping off the stove, he brought the dishes and flatware to the table. "Here you go."

"Thanks." She pushed one of the other chairs out with a bare foot and then sat forward to pick up her dinner. "Have a seat. Oh, there's stuff to drink in the fridge. Do you mind? I could use some caffiene, I don't know why I'm so tired."

He turned and grabbed two sodas from the fridge, then sat down, putting one can in front of her. "You're tired because you're not sleepin' and you're not eatin'," he said flatly.

"Don't be silly, Logan." Marie opened up the Coke and took a sip. "I'm eighteen, I don't need sleep or food." She gave him an impish smile. "I have love, caffiene, chocolate, and more adrenaline than is good for anyone."

He rolled his eyes, then snorted. "Please, /don't/ remind me how old you are. Scooter's gonna lynch me as it is."

Marie laughed and shook her head. "You two are impossible. I think I'm a big enough girl to look after myself." She picked up a fork. "See, I'm even eating my dinner on my own. Don't have to cut it up for me at all."

His eyes narrowed and he lifted his own fork, spiraling it to collect some linguini. Making sure the sauce wouldn't drip on the table, he held his fork out toward her.

"I'm not a baby," she protested, even as she leaned forward to eat what he offered her. "Mm. Good. I think I'll keep you."

"Glad to hear it," he said, spiraling the fork again for a bite of his own. "I'd hate it to be my skill in the kitchen that drove you away."

"Dodged the bullet there, didn't you," Marie said affectionately, finally getting to her own dinner. She paused in eating to tap the keyboard of her laptop at her elbow. "I'm just looking up a few things on dealing with kids after a trauma. I know if you do the right things early, you can save a lot of grief in the end."

He nodded, trying not to think about the things he could have done early for Marie. Like /being there/. "D'you know, are the counsellors doin' anythin' for the kids?"

"I talked to Jake this morning. He seemed a little lost. That's not what any of them do, you know? I told Jake I'd take Artie off his hands just because Artie likes /you/ so much and that makes such a big difference, having that trust." Marie turned back to face him with a smile. "As crazy as that may sound to you."

He raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Whatever you think'll work. Kid doesn't deserve this kinda thing happenin' to him all the time."

When they were done, Marie took his dishes and hers. "I'll do these up," she said, kissing Logan lightly on the head as she stood up. "I'd offer to help Artie move rooms, but..." She set the dishes in the sink and sighed, staring down at them "I think Doug would prefer not to see either of us, especially not me."

Logan's brow wrinkled. "Why not? I thought you were friends?"

Marie ran water into the sink and added dish soap, watching the bubbles rise, then shut it off and turned around. "Well, we were," she said regretfully. "But Saturday he told me he was in love with me. And he made very sincere arguments to some the reasons I had that I wasn't about to feel the same way about him. But that doesn't change the fact that he's completely not my kind of person. Still." She crossed her arms and met Logan's eyes across the room. "He said things I did need to hear... so I'd hear myself outloud when I answered him... so I'd know what I was doing to myself."

He didn't break her gaze, though some part of him wanted to, uncomfortable with his own guilt in the situation. "I'd thank him, but it sounds like he wouldn't like that much. ...He's pissed 'cause you don't love him back?"

"He's hurt." Marie shrugged and, putting her hands in her pockets, wandered back over to lean on the table next to him. She looked down at him with a soft smile. "And I don't blame him for being upset. It's hard to be in love with someone who's simply not interested in you that way, for whatever reason."

Guilt flashed over his face. "You were young. You /are/ young, but not like you were. I couldn't. Not like that." He sighed, reaching out to touch her hip. "It woulda been me that changed you and that...no. I'm sorry."

"Did I say you were wrong?" Marie asked gently, running her fingers through his hair.

He nodded, glad she seemed to understand, and his eyes slid half-shut. "'m still sorry." A moment of silence, then, "Stop feeling guilty about Doug."

"I'm trying not to. But he's a good person and I'm sorry I had to hurt him." She stepped forward, bending to kiss his hair and weaving the fingers of both hands through it, and then pulled him close to her.

He breathed her in, pulling her down into his lap. "He'll forgive you."

Marie leaned into him, tucking her feet back over his shins and resting her elbows on his shoulders so she could continue to toy with his hair. "I hope he does. I don't want him to get bitter or twisted up inside." Her voice was tight and sad. "I'd hate to do that to someone else."

"You're not bein' cruel to him, are you?" Logan asked, skeptically.

"No. I think it'd be cruel to let him run into you at the wrong time," she said wryly.

He coughed. "Yeah. I'll try not to accidentally skewer the kid or anything."

Marie's fingers tightened in Logan's hair, a firm, demanding tug, and she grinned at him. "Down, boy."

He growled quietly, pulling against her hands. "Said I'd try not to. He seems nice enough. Worried about you when you were late comin' back from LA." The stinging sensation of his hair being pulled was not at all unpleasant.

"I know." She pulled back against his resistance and, bending a little, licked the hollow of his throat lightly on a whim.

His hands slid up the smooth plane of her back, his eyes widening a bit, then sliding closed.

Pleased, Marie kissed Logan gently on the mouth and smoothed her fingers through his hair. "I love you, you know. I'm glad you didn't change me anymore than the ways you did. I like me now."

"I like you now, too," he said, his voice slightly growly. He opened his eyes and tipped his head forward to nip at her lower lip.

The bite stung a little, but it wasn't hard. A love bite. "I can tell," she whispered, and brushed her mouth across his again, lingering longer this time.

He licked at her lips when she pulled away, then raised an eyebrow. "Obvious, am I?"

"Or maybe I'm just a presumptuous little wench," Marie said with a wicked smile and slid her hips closer. "Which is it?"

"Wench," he growled, sliding his hands down to pull her hips up against him. His eyes narrowed as he watched her face.

She laughed softly, and wound her arms around his neck. "On second thought, you're just that obvious," she murmured.

He bared his teeth, snapping at her just once. Smirking, he murmured, "Maybe I am, at that."

"Why are you so patient with me?" Her amusement faded and her eyes grew dark and searching.

Seeing that she was serious, he stopped smirking and frowned. "What d'you mean?"

Marie sighed and sat back a little, forcing herself to keep looking at him while trying to maintain a steady voice. "Why are you so patient with me? Why are you getting yourself into this? You can't even kiss me properly... I'm trusting you know what you're doing, but I don't know this part of you, so I have to ask where it's coming from and where it's going."

"I'm gettin' myself into this 'cause this is where I wanna be." He shrugged a little. "I don't know how we're gonna manage the rest, but I figure we'll work it out." He leaned forward and whispered against her lips, "I'm not kissin' you properly 'cause I don't wanna scare you off, not 'cause I'm scared of gettin' hurt."

"You're sure?" She bit her lower lip, feeling breathless and anxious. "...I mean that this is what you want? This, us... For now, for when? Maybe you're not scared, but I am sometimes. For you, in one way, for me in the other. You don't have to have answers, but do you at least have questions too?" She felt like she'd stepped off of the narrow path she'd been traversing in the dark and was falling now. Wherever she landed, she hoped the lights were on.

He leaned back in the chair, shaking his head. "Are you sure this is what /you/ want? That's my only real question, hon." He touched her cheek lightly. "Doug's a nice boy and he probably won't get you killed. Can't say the same for me."

Marie laughed out loud at that. "I want to live, Logan, not stay alive."

He grinned. That was his girl, his Marie. "Then I don't have any more questions. D'you?" He ran his hands over her back, soothing, easy.

Her face grew serious again, but the moment of nervousness had past. "There's never any question that it's you I want," she told him. "Never. If you're sure it's me you want, if knowing me like you do you're gonna keep me anyway, then maybe you should kiss me."

His eyes darkened at the invitation, but he didn't dive in. He looked at her for a moment, brushed his lips slowly over hers, then parted his own lips. He licked at her lips, waiting for them to open. When they did, he kissed her -- really kissed her -- his hands stilling on her back. After a moment, he drew away, just beginning to feel the tug of her powers, now a familiar feeling.

She'd trusted that Logan hadn't just spoken out of bravado, but the full meaning of it hadn't been clear to Marie until his tongue slid past her lips to meet hers. Then, it was like a door long locked shut had its key turned and the tumblers fell into place. Her power touched him just long enough for her to feel it stir and then he pulled away before it could do more. Giddy and a little breathless at the epiphany presented her, and all its sundry complications and promises, she couldn't do more than say, "I love you." It was the one truth her mind could find and offer him while keeping her voice steady.

"I love you, too," he murmured, rubbing her back again. "You okay?"

"Better than okay," she assured him. "Perfect."