Title:       the gods are laughing
Author:      DCE aka ViciousGurl
Email:       geek-tastic AT gmx DOT com
Web Page:    http://www.dlc.fi/~dce/fic/index.html
Rating:      Adult - for mature themes and cussing
Archive:     Nowhere without my written permission.
Disclaimers: X-Men belong to Marvel and the movieverse versions 
             owe a little something to Bryan Singer & co. I'm just 
             borrowing them for a little while and no infringement 
             is intended. This story and all original characters, 
             however, belong to me.
Summary:     Logan returns back home, and the gods have a good laugh.
             L/OFC, movieverse
Notes:       Million thanks to Jenny and Kara for beta reading :)
Feedback:    Need you ask?
			


THE GODS ARE LAUGHING
by DCE aka ViciousGurl
<geek-tastic AT gmx DOT com>
(c)2001


Two years ago, he'd left to find answers to his past. The abandoned
military compound up in the Canadian Rockies had been well cleaned
out years before. Still, he followed up every lead he'd been able to
pick up, no matter how meager or unlikely. All of which had turned
out to be dead ends. Big surprise. Finally, he'd admitted to himself
that it was time to call it quits. For the time being. Besides, old
One Eye probably missed his bike already.

Sniffing the warm night air, Logan lit up a cigar.

After days of riding nearly non-stop, he decided to take a break. He
wasn't entirely certain of the name of the city he was in at the
moment, but he decided that he liked it just fine, regardless. He'd
left his bike several blocks away before heading for the more obscure
part of town in search of a bar and a cage. He had no trouble finding
either. A couple of hours later, he had a few more bucks in his
pocket, a beer or two in his belly, and he felt wonderfully relaxed.
Life was pretty good.

Taking a long puff of his cigar, Logan strolled through the streets.
It was well past midnight, but he wasn't tired, nor was he in any
hurry.

Logan's appreciation of the relative peace and quiet was suddenly
disrupted by a muffled scream.

His first instinct was to keep on walking. Whatever it was, it wasn't
his problem. Inconveniently for him, though, despite his tough
Wolverine exterior, Logan never could turn his back on a damsel in
distress.

With a resigned growl, he peered in the window of 'Jay's Tattoos',
trying to see what was going on. Slipping in, quietly as he could,
Logan listened carefully for any more cries. Checking first that the
shop was indeed empty, he then padded lightly towards the back room
door. He could hear something being broken, followed by muffled
curses. Someone was being roughed up all right, and whoever it was,
they weren't going down quietly.

Reining in his desire to simply barge in, Logan slowly turned the
knob. He hoped it wouldn't creak; the idea was to save the girl, not
to get her killed.

At first, all he could see was someone's broad back. Then the big guy
shifted, and what Logan saw made his blood rise.

Three gorillas were bashing around a small dark-haired woman. One of
the men stood a little to the side, nursing some nasty looking bloody
scratches on his right cheek while another one, with ginger hair,
tried to hold the woman in place.

She fought like a wild cat, mean and dirty, but with three against
one, the odds were definitely stacked against her. Trying to bite the
hand held over her mouth, she simultaneously attempted to knee the
big guy right in front of her. She missed.

Backhanding her for her trouble, the man reached into his jacket
pocket. "Hold her still."

It was definitely time to step in.

"Hey bub, why won't you pick on someone your own size?"

The woman used the sudden distraction Logan had created to headbutt
the man holding her from behind. Because of her height, or lack
thereof, it didn't work out quite as planned, but it got the job
done; the solid impact on the man's larynx took him effectively out
of the game.

Taking that as his cue, Logan jumped towards his target and landed a
solid blow on the guy's jaw. The man with the scratches went for his
gun, but was taken by surprise by a sudden weight landing on his
back. Dropping his weapon, he grabbed the scratching spitfire by the
arms and threw her to the floor with a loud thump. As soon as he was
free from her, he dove for his gun - only to meet up with Logan's
fist.

While Logan was otherwise engaged, the big guy had recovered enough
to be up and running again. Rushing to the aid of his companions, he
threw everything he had into a swing aimed at Logan's temple. The
impact dazed Logan for a moment. That was enough. Still wheezing for
air, ginger hair grabbed his gun, lowering it for a shot. Had it not
been for the lady's well timed high kick, Logan would've sported a
neat hole in his forehead.

The small commotion gave the suits enough time to gather their wits
and regroup.

Not waiting for them to also get their guns, the woman grabbed
Logan's wrist in a surprisingly tight grip and dashed towards the
front door. "Come on!"

For an instant, Logan considered simply not budging. He knew he could
take on the three clowns. Then, feeling another frantic yank, he
reluctantly let her drag himself out.

"This way!" He led the woman towards the street where he'd left his
bike.

They took off; nearly colliding with a couple of trash cans which
seemed to have materialized out of thin air. Quickly getting them
back on track, Logan sped down the street with the suits close
behind.

Holding on for dear life, his companion tried to twist herself enough
to look back. Her long hair flew in her face obscuring her vision,
but she could still make out a black car right behind them.

"Hurry!"

"I see them," Logan growled, glancing at his mirror.

He could also hear them. The tires of the car screeched as they tried
to keep up with the sudden twists and turns of the motorbike. There
were also the seemingly innocuous, yet infinitely more sinister,
soft, popping sounds of hand guns equipped with silencers.

A sudden smell of blood made Logan turn his head to the side in a
futile effort to see his passenger.

"Are you hit?" The shouted words were almost lost into the wind and
he had to repeat the question before he more felt than heard her
answer next to his ear.

"Just a scratch. Keep going."

He did as he was told.

The bike felt like a living entity beneath him and despite the
situation, or perhaps because of it, Logan reveled in the freedom and
excitement, the thrill of being alive. With childlike glee, he played
with their pursuers briefly before giving them the brush off. He
allowed them to get closer so they could clearly see his wave of
good-bye and then he steered the bike towards tall steps leading to a
park and made his disappearance.

After a while of driving aimlessly through the streets, he pulled
over.

"Thanks." The woman didn't waste time getting off the bike and
turning to leave.

Logan, however, had other ideas. Grabbing her arm he brought her to a
halt. "Just a sec."

Seeing her sudden wince of pain before she could school her features
made him curse under his breath. During the excitement of the chase
he'd forgotten that she was hurt.

"Let's see that scratch of yours."

"Look, it's no big deal. I'll just --"

Her objections went unheard as he unceremoniously ripped off her
sleeve.

Inspecting the bloody wound, Logan gently dabbed it with the piece of
cloth in his hand. "Doesn't look too bad. It's just a scratch."

Rolling her eyes, she didn't dignify him with an answer. Instead, she
endured in silence as he carefully bandaged her arm up with the
ripped off sleeve.

"That should take care of it 'til you see a doctor."

Inspecting his handiwork, she shook her head. "No, no doctors."
Feeling his stare, she raised her head to meet his eyes. "A hospital
would inform the police, and I'd just as soon skip the twenty
questions."

Logan kept staring at her thoughtfully for a while before asking the
obvious question. "So, you wanna tell me who those guys were?"

She gave a short shrug. "Haven't the foggiest. Never seen them in my
life."

"Aha." Logan didn't need to be a psychic to know she was lying
through her teeth. "Well, ya take care of yourself, now." Climbing
back on the bike, he started the engine.

"Wait!" She took a step closer to be heard over the engine's rumble.
"Those men didn't strike me as the kind to give up easily, so... I
was thinking, it might be a good idea for me to skip town for a
while."

Logan could already see where she was going and waited for her to
finish so he could turn her down.

She hesitated for a second before plunging on with her question.
"Could you give me a lift to the next city? Please? I'll pay for the
gas."

Logan opened his mouth to tell her 'no'. He wasn't the kind of guy to
get involved.

His mistake was to look into her dark eyes before he got the crucial
word passed his lips. The look of desperation she was trying to mask
as cool indifference was his undoing.

Calling himself a thousand kinds of fool, he gave in to the
inevitable.

"I'm going to Westchester, and I ain't planning on stopping before I
get there."

Her eyes lost some of their anxiety. "Westchester's perfect."

"Hop on."

*

Three silent hours later, Logan pulled over in front of a cheap, but
decent motel.

When his passenger didn't make an effort to remove her slumped form
from the bike he grabbed the forearms still clutching his midsection
and gave them a good shake. "Hey lady, unless you're planning on
following me home, this is your stop."

Her arms fell bonelessly to the side when he released his hold on
them. Getting off the bike to take a look at what the heck was going
on, Logan's quick reflexes almost weren't enough. He caught her, just
barely, before she hit the ground.

"What the..."

Her face was covered with fine sheen of sweat and, even though she
made the effort, she couldn't keep her eyes opened or focused.
Feeling her forehead with the back of his hand confirmed what Logan
already knew; she was burning up.

"Shit."

Staring down at the barely conscious woman Logan squashed the urge to
growl out his frustration. He should've known better. Hell, he *had*
known better. This was what one got by getting involved. Trouble.

*********

Dr. Jean Grey sat in the kitchen of Xavier's School For Gifted
Youngsters, nursing a steaming cup of tea in front of her, when a
sudden noise startled her out of her reverie. Raising her head she
saw the last person she expected.

"Logan!" Her surprised smile gave way to concerned frown as soon as
she registered the unconscious woman in his arms. "What...?"

"She needs help."

"What happened?" Jean asked, taking in the deathly pallor and sweaty
skin of the dark-haired woman.

"She's been shot."

Giving Logan a quick glance, Jean itched to ask him for a more
thorough explanation, but that would have to wait for later. Right
now, she needed to concentrate on her new patient.

"Let's get her to the med lab."

*

"When did you say this happened?" Jean asked, examining the reddened
bullet wound.

"I didn't."

Jean didn't seem to presently appreciate his sense of humour as she
gave him a dark glance from the corner of her eye.

Logan corrected his posture. "About three, maybe four hours ago."

Jean didn't seem to like that answer any better than she had the
previous one. Frowning, she prodded the wound some more before
properly disinfecting and re-bandaging it. She then proceeded to
insert an IV line into her patient's arm. That done, she collected
the samples she'd taken, and sat in front of a microscope.

Logan sat quietly in the corner of the room and waited for her to
finish what ever it was she was doing.

"Will she be okay?" He asked once it was obvious she wasn't working
any more.

"I don't know." Sighing, Jean turned her attention from the samples
to her friend. "Do you know who shot her?"

"Nope." Logan was as articulate as ever. "Why?"

"Even if her wound did become infected it would've taken more than
merely a few hours for the fever to develop and render her
unconscious," Jean explained. "These samples I took suggest that the
bullet was laced with a chemical toxin."

Now Logan was frowning, as well. "Exactly what kind of poison are we
talking about here?"

"I've never seen anything like it before." Jean shook her head. "I
can't identify it."

"Can ya at least tell if it's lethal or not?"

Jean considered his impatient question for a moment. "I doubt it's
lethal. It may simply be meant to keep her down. In my estimation, if
it was meant to kill she'd be dead already. As for how long the
effects will last, your guess is as good as mine. We'll just have to
wait and see."

Grunting, Logan turned his attention from the tall redhead to the
small woman lying on the bed.

Stepping to stand beside him, Jean finally let her curiosity take
over. "Who is she?"

"I don't know." At Jean's look, Logan shrugged. "We were kinda busy.
Introductions weren't a priority."

"Well, I suppose we'll have plenty of time for questions once she
wakes up." Then, satisfied that she had done all she could for her
patient for the moment, Jean turned her undivided attention to Logan.
"Speaking of questions, why didn't you call and let us know you were
coming back?"

Turning to meet her gaze, Logan shrugged. "Didn't want to make a
fuss. 'Sides, I wasn't sure when I'd make it back." Then, eager to
change the subject, he gave a meaningful glance towards the clock.
"It's barely past six in the morning, Red. So, I think the real
question here is, what are you doing up so early? Didn't feel like
lying next to the old One Eye any longer?"

Shaking her head slightly, Jean gave him an indulgent smile.
"Actually, one of the students is ill. I've been up most of the night
monitoring him, but it seems the worst is over already."

"Thought ya looked a little pale." Logan gave her a thorough once
over. "Why won't you go and get some sleep. I'll keep on eye on her."

"I don't think that's--"

"I'll call you the second anything in one of those monitors changes,"
Logan promised. "Go on, get outta here, Red."

"Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but I really think I should
stay. Just in case."

"Admit it. You don't want to stay here and stare at the monitors. You
just want me to sweep ya off your feet and carry you out, don't ya?"
Leering, Logan leaned in a little closer. Giving her a wicked smile,
he enjoyed the faint blush that spread across her cheeks.

"All right!" Jean threw her hands in the air in surrender. "You win."
Walking over to the door, she paused and then turned back to look at
him. "It's good to see you again, Logan." Flashing him a warm smile,
she left.

Deep in thought, Logan stared after her for a moment. Then, pulling
up a chair, he made himself comfortable for a long vigil.

*

Aside from the occasional beep from the monitors, it was really quiet
in the med lab. Logan soon tired of staring at the walls and turned
his eyes to the only other living being in the room. She didn't offer
much in the way of entertainment in her current condition, but she
held his attention just the same.

She was older than Logan had thought at first glance; not a teen
anymore, but perhaps in her mid-twenties or so. Her dark, almost
black hair reached well below her shoulders, and beneath her sickly
pallor she was well tanned. She was also sporting a black eye,
courtesy of the three clowns.

Glancing towards the closed door, Logan got up slowly. He really
wanted some answers. She might not be able to speak up, but there
were other ways of getting information. Feeling a bit silly, Logan
nonetheless plowed ahead with his plan. He just hoped that no one
walked in on him; it might be a tad difficult to explain how come he
had his hands in her jeans' pockets.

A few minutes later, he was none the wiser. All she had on her was a
couple of hundred dollars, a lone key and an opened packet of
peppermint chewing gum. No I.D. Even her clothes were generic enough
- blue jeans and a purple shirt - she could've gotten them anywhere.

Frowning, Logan stared at the unconscious woman. She was being
difficult on purpose. No one had so little on them when they suddenly
decided to skip town.

Unless, she had a specific destination in mind.

Sitting back down, Logan shook his head. No, it didn't sound right.
She couldn't have known where he was going.

Scowling, he kept staring at her. "Who are you?"

*********

Two days later, as unexpectedly as the mystery woman's fever had
developed, it was gone.

"Where am I?" A classic first question. "And who are you?"

Stepping in closer to the bed where her patient was now sitting up,
Jean smiled reassuringly. "I'm Dr. Jean Grey, and you're at Xavier's
School For Gifted Youngsters. Do you remember what happened to you?"

Instinctively touching her injured arm, the woman nodded. She looked
suspiciously at Jean, frowning slightly. "A school? Why am I here?"

"Logan told me you didn't want to go to a hospital, so he brought you
here instead. You were running a high fever and you've been
unconscious for the past two days."

"Logan?" Knitting her dark brows, it took the woman a second to
comprehend. "Oh, the guy with the bike."

"Yes. That's him." Jean smiled.

"And I've been here for two days?" At Jean's nod, the woman gingerly
got out of the bed and stood up on slightly wobbly legs. "Well, I'm
much obliged, I'm sure, but I really should get going."

"You really should take it easy for a day or two," Jean said,
hurrying to steady her.

Stepping out of her reach, the woman gave Jean an uneasy smile. "I'll
be sure to remember that. Now, if you could just show me the way out,
I'll be out of your hair."

Thinking she understood what was bothering her patient, Jean kept her
distance and spoke calmly as if to a frightened child. "I assure you,
no one is trying to harm you. You're quite safe here." When the woman
didn't respond in any way, Jean went on. "You're free to go, of
course, but if you'd like to freshen up a little, and perhaps have
something to eat first, I think you'd be much more comfortable.
Besides, I'm sure Logan would like to see you again before you
leave."

*

While the woman ate her breakfast, Jean observed her. Despite her
shiner, their guest looked much better already, cleaned up and
dressed in a borrowed shirt. Breakfast would no doubt also help
matters. Still, Jean got the impression that the more people milled
in and about the kitchen the more tense she got.

After breakfast, Jean led her to a study where both Logan and the
Professor were already expecting them.

As soon as she saw Logan, the woman seemed to lose sight of
everything and everyone else. "You! What the hell did you do to me?"

"What?" Giving a quick, bewildered glance towards Jean and the
Professor, Logan returned his attention to the hissing maniac
standing in front of him. "Hey, you asked me to give you a lift. I
gave you one."

The woman looked like she wanted to smack him. "I didn't ask you to
take me into a bloody mutant hive!"

The Professor, who had silently been observing the bizarre exchange,
leaned forward in his chair, intrigued. "Mutant hive?"

The woman spun around towards the new voice. "Don't play games with
me, baldy. I know you're all mutants," she snapped, her eyes
narrowed.

"True." The Professor nodded amiably. "But how did *you* know that?"

She gave him a scathing look. "I just do."

Contemplating her for a moment, the Professor smiled. "You are a
mutant, as well."

"Bite me."

With that charming remark, the woman turned to Jean. "Okay, I've done
everything you wanted me to do. I'd like to leave now."

"I can show you the way out," Logan growled, his smile that of a
hungry wolf's.

The Professor made a small motion with his hand to calm everybody
down. He didn't have to be a psychic to see that their guest was, for
some reason, scared to death. She was doing a pretty good job hiding
it, though. Anger could be a great mask.

"Jean. Logan. Would you two excuse us for a moment, please?"

Giving the Professor a questioning look, Jean turned to leave. After
a moment's hesitation, Logan reluctantly followed after her.

Motioning towards a chair, the Professor smiled politely. "Won't you
please sit down, miss...?"

"Doe. Jane Doe." Her voice was like dry ice. "And who are you?"

Not batting an eye, the Professor kept his smile intact. "My
apologies. I am Professor Charles Xavier. Won't you please sit down,
miss Doe."

"I like it right where I am. Thanks."

"Of course." Nodding, the Professor decided that getting straight to
the point might prove to be the most fruitful approach. "Logan tells
me that when he first met you, you were being... harassed by three
men."

Waiting for a confirmation that never came, he continued. "If you are
worried that these men might follow you here--"

"Might?" She snorted. "This is probably the first place they'll
target once they figure out where the hell I am. The bloody house is
filled with freaks."

Suppressing a smile, the Professor coughed. "Actually, we prefer the
term 'mutant'."

"Whatever."

"As I was saying, if you are worried that someone might come after
you, let me assure you, this is probably the safest place for you to
be. You and I may know that this is a school for mutants, but to the
outside world this is merely a school for gifted youngsters. There is
no reason for these men to come looking for you here."

Looking bored, 'Jane' made a great show of inspecting her
fingernails. "Are we done?"

"You are among your own kind," the Professor said gently. "There is
no need to be afraid."

That got her attention. "Afraid? Of what? You? Listen baldy, I could
take you on sitting down with both my hands tied behind my back."

"Be that as it may." The Professor smiled slightly. "You are welcome
to stay here, if you'd like."

She stared at him in silence for a long while, trying to figure him
out. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we? What do you want?"

"I believe the question is, what do *you* want, miss Doe?"

Shaking her head, her dark eyes bore into the Professor suspiciously.
"What's the catch?"

"As much as it sounds like a cheap cliché, there isn't one. If you
truly wish to leave, no one will try to stop you. All I'm offering is
a safe place for you to stay, for a few days or weeks, or longer if
you so wish."

"Sounds like a great offer," she agreed. "What I'd like to know is
why? You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. I could
turn out be an ax-murderer. Lots of kiddies around here..."

"Everyone living in this house has special gifts, miss Doe. Some of
us might surprise you." There was a hint of undeniable pride in the
Professor's voice. "I think the students will be safe enough. As for
'why', from what I gathered from Logan, you are running from people
who would try to hurt you. I am simply offering a helping hand.
Whether or not you choose to accept it is entirely up to you."

For once, she didn't seem to have a quick return handy. Instead, she
contemplated him for a longest while, silently chewing on her lip,
mulling over his offer. Walking over to look out of the window, she
watched the students play in the garden. They all seemed - happy. As
far as she could tell, there weren't any armed guards around, and the
windows didn't have bars on them. Everything seemed perfectly -
normal.

"Nice view."

The Professor wheeled himself closer to have a look. "Yes, the garden
is lovely this time of year."

Her mind finally made up, 'Jane' turned to face the Professor. "I
don't have much money..."

"This is a school, not a hotel, miss Doe." The Professor smiled. "You
may wish to help with the chores around the house but I promise, you
won't be presented with a bill when you check-out."

"Okay. And you can drop the 'miss Doe' bit. The name's Leda."

********

Logan didn't trust her one bit. She was too - everything; too
secretive, too sharp-tongued, too elusive - in a word, too much like
himself. She seemed to get along with most of the mansion's
occupants, at least on surface. While she appeared friendly enough,
she in fact managed to keep most people at arm's length. The others
didn't seem to notice anything a miss, but her reluctance to reveal
next to nothing about herself was a red flag to Logan.

He found himself keeping on eye on her, practically twenty-four hours
a day. He'd listen to her joke around with Scott, (of all people!),
and swap kitchen disaster stories with Storm. He'd watch her slip
into the mansion's library late at night when she thought no one
would notice, and immerse herself into thick volumes of Greek
mythology. He noticed how she never went swimming with the others,
content to simply sit by the pool, sketching, while the rest of the
gang enjoyed a respite from the heat. He probably knew more about her
than all the rest of them put together. Because he'd made it his
business to know her. But, despite Jean's teasing comments of him
'protesting too much', he was *not* drawn to her. He simply didn't
trust her.

By the end of the second week, he noticed her becoming restless.
She'd get up in the middle of the night and wander around the garden
for hours. And, now and then, she'd get a troubled, almost lost, look
on her face while she was talking to someone. She'd always recover
soon enough, though, and no one else seemed to think anything of it.
Logan, however, was convinced something was up.

So, the night she left the mansion for the first time since she'd
arrived, Logan followed her. Not because he was curious or nosy, he
just wanted to know what the hell she was up to.

*

'Midnight Punch' wasn't a cage bar, but it could've been. The smoke
and the smells, the general atmosphere, they were all right on
target. Logan's knuckles ached. He felt like Pavlov's dog; give him a
whiff of the right smell and he was ready to pick a fight.

Instead, he picked Leda out of the crowd. She was sitting by the bar,
chatting up a greasy looking guy. She looked relaxed, comfortable. A
little too comfortable. Glancing at the pint of beer in front of her,
Logan wondered whether or not she could be a little woozy from the
amount she'd already drunk. When he saw the greaseball put his hand
on her thigh, he thought for sure she'd punch the guy's lights out.
Instead, she smiled. Growling, Logan decided that it was time to step
in and save her bacon, again.

Walking over, he grabbed her elbow. "We need to talk."

"Hey! Get your hands off her! She's with me." The greaseball got up
from his stool, flexing his arms. He probably thought he was being
menacing.

"I wasn't talking to you, bub."

"Guys! There's no need to get all macho." Leda's lips were smiling,
but her eyes were sending daggers at Logan. "Ben." She turned to the
fuming greaseball. "It was Ben, right? Would you excuse me for just a
second? I'll be right back. This won't take long, I promise."

Almost before she was finished, Logan dragged her to an empty booth
at the back of the bar.

Sliding on to the cracked vinyl bench, Leda ground her teeth. "Okay,
what was so bloody urgent that it couldn't wait? And what the hell
was that pissing contest all about?"

Ignoring her words, Logan stared into her eyes. They were clear as
crystal. She wasn't sloshed in the least. Which meant, she'd been
totally happy just now, being pawed by that clown. And, he'd probably
just managed to make an ass out of himself. There was only one thing
to do. Attack, after all, *was* the best defense.

Without preamble, Logan charged on. "You've been talking to a lot of
people around the mansion." It was really just a lame statement, but
he made it sound like a pivotal detail of an accusation.

"So?" Leda arched her brows.

"So, you talk a lot without saying much. No one seems to know very
much about you."

Leda stared at him, not sure whether she should be amused or pissed
off. "This is why you dragged me here? To accuse me of what, exactly?
Talking to people? Trying to get to know them? Oh yeah, there's a
capital offence."

With a wolfish grin, Logan bared his teeth. "Just a friendly warning.
I've got my eye on you."

"Don't I know it. I can't turn around without bumping into you," Leda
muttered under her breath. Then, seeing a subtle change in his eyes,
she smiled at him sweetly. "What? You didn't really think I hadn't
noticed? A herd of buffalo would be harder to miss. Why won't you
just do us both a favour and get off my back."

Logan didn't know why exactly, but he was suddenly enjoying their
sparring. To cover for it, he flashed her his most infuriating, cocky
grin. "Make me."

To his surprise, she didn't appear the least rattled. Usually, the
combination of the grin and that specific tone of voice drove people
bonkers.

Leda kept her saccharine smile in tact. "Just remember, you asked for
it. The next time you annoy me, I'll just zap you with one of my
handy-dandy energy bolts. Don't worry, they won't hurt. You'll
simply... disappear."

"Funny, I don't remember you throwing anything around when I saved
your bacon from those three clowns." Logan shot back, looking faintly
amused.

"What, you don't believe me?" Leda's voice was filled with mock
surprise. "Are you calling me a liar?"

"Yep."

Smiling sunnily at him, she attempted to sound modest. "Well, it *is*
my gift, and I'm very good at what I do."

"Lying's your gift." Logan repeated flatly, not believing her for a
second.

"Well, if you wanna get all technical on me, it's *a* gift. But then,
we can't all be big, bad Wolverines."

Logan's eyes narrowed, just a tad. He didn't like being talked about
behind his back. "Ro's got a big mouth."

"What makes you think it was her?" Leda asked, arching her brow.

Before Logan could answer, Ben appeared at their table. He was
swaying slightly on his feet and he seemed to have a bit of trouble
seeing straight.

"Hey, Sheila, you said you wouldn't take long." His voice slurred,
just a little.

"Sheila?" Logan mouthed, amused.

Ignoring him, Leda flashed Ben a reassuring smile. "Why won't you go
and have another beer, Benny. I'll be right there."

"It's Ben. And I've been waiting long enough." Grabbing Leda's arm,
he tried to pull her up.

Logan's hand shot out and stopped him cold. "Take a hike, bub. She's
not going anywhere."

"Excuse me, but I think *I'll* be the judge of that," Leda injected,
somewhat miffed at being reduced to a mindless rag-doll between two
fighting kids.

Shooting a cold look at her, Logan let go of Ben's arm. "Be my
guest."

Leda flashed him a fake smile. "Thank you." Then, she turned to the
other bully. "Benny. Take a hike, I'm not going anywhere."

It took Ben a few seconds to get her. When he finally did, he
bellowed like a wounded bull. "You little bitch! You think you can
make a fool out of me, do ya?"

"Oh, I think you're making a great job at it all by yourself,
*Benny*," Leda said, sounding bored. Knowing exactly, what would
follow, she looked questioningly at Logan. "Do you want to just
leave, or would you like to have a little fun first?"

Following her thought of train, Logan grinned. "Go ahead, make my
day."

Enraged at being ignored, Ben made another grab at Leda's arm.
Allowing him to pull her up, Leda waited until they were well out of
the booth before sending her fist flying. Wincing at the impact, she
ducked Ben's sloppy return and kneed him where it really hurt.

As if that was the sign everybody had been waiting for, all
pandemonium broke loose. It appeared Ben was a man with many friends,
and most of them seemed to be present at 'Midnight Punch'.

Logan threw himself in on the fun wholeheartedly. It had been awhile
since he'd been in a good bar brawl, and this one was proving to be a
smashing hit. Tables were flying across the room and the sound of
breaking bottles was like music to his ears. Grinning like a mad man,
Logan fought his way across the floor to the front door. Making sure
Leda was right behind him he made his exit.

Breathing in the cool night air, Logan ran his hand through his hair.
Glancing at Leda, he gave her a friendly grin. The girl sure knew how
to have a good time.

"Wanna go back in?" He asked, nodding towards the bar. Inside, the
fight was still in full swing.

"Nah, I think I got enough bruises already. Some of us don't heal
quite as fast as you do." She sounded a little envious as she watched
a small gash on his cheek disappear.

Her comment made Logan frown sightly. "Are you hurt?" He'd been
trying to keep an eye on her inside and she seemed to have been
taking care of herself pretty well. Maybe he'd missed something, and
she was more seriously injured than met the eye.

Shaking her head, Leda gave him a reassuring smile. "No. Just a few
scrapes and bruises, nothing major."

"You're sure?" Logan didn't sound convinced.

"Well, I won't be stripping down so you can have a look, so you'll
just have to take my word for it." She looked a tad annoyed, but her
voice was teasing.

"Too bad."

Rolling her eyes at him, she couldn't quite suppress her grin.

"So, is this what you do when you get bored? Find a bar and lead poor
hapless guys like Brad on until you can pick a fight?" Logan asked.

"Ben." Leda corrected him good-naturedly. "And no, I didn't go there
to pick a fight. A couple of more beers and he would've forgotten all
about me."

"A-ha." Logan looked doubtful.

Sighing, Leda gave him a suddenly serious look. "You *really* wanna
know what I was doing there?"

"Yeah. Sure."

Biting her lip, Leda took a few more steps before getting down to sit
on the curb. After a beat, Logan dropped down beside her.

"Okay." Taking a deep breath, Leda let it out in a soft whoosh before
turning to look at him. "I went there to find someone who would lie
to me."

"Lie to you?" Logan seemed to be repeating a lot of her words that
night. "Hell, darlin', all ya needed to do was ask."

Closing her eyes, she shook her head briefly. "It doesn't work that
way. It can't be a mutant."

"Why not? A lie's a lie."

Chewing on her lip again, Leda pondered how much she should tell him.
Then, deciding that he probably wouldn't give up until he had the
whole sordid tale out, she gave up.

Resting her arms on her knees, she kept her eyes glued to the street.
"My special gift, my mutant 'power', is being able to tell when
people are lying." Giving a quick glance towards Logan, she plowed on
before he could make a comment. "I'm not able to tell the degree of
the lie or even pick out the specific lie from say, a speech. All I'm
able to tell is whether or not the person is being totally honest.
And no one is ever totally honest about anything, so my little
parlour trick is pretty damn useless."

Silently, Logan considered her words for a moment. "So, what you're
saying is, this gift of yours only works on humans."

"Bingo."

"That's how you knew we were mutants."

"Right again." Suddenly, she sounded tired.

Logan contemplated her profile in the dim light. It all sounded
perfectly plausible. Not every mutant had spectacular powers. But,
she herself had told him that she was a great liar.

"Nice little story. But you wouldn't be using your *other* gift right
now, would ya?"

The look she threw at him told him to go to hell. Cursing under his
breath, Logan got up and followed after her stiff back.

Landing a heavy hand on her shoulder, he forced her to stop. "Look,
I'm sorry."

Snatching herself free from his hold, she hissed, "Take your hands
off me."

"Sorry." Logan didn't know what the hell else to say to her. "Look, I
don't have your gift of spotting a lie--"

"Well, neither do I where you people are concerned!" Leda interrupted
him. "I miss knowing when people are lying to me. That's why I came
here tonight. At least here, I know where the hell I stand, okay?!"

"Okay!" She wasn't the only one losing her temper.

"Fine!"

Watching her stomp off towards her car, Logan felt something snap
inside. "Oh, fuck!"

It only took him a few strides to catch her. Swiveling her around, he
caught her head in between his large hands. Then, plunging his tongue
into her mouth he kissed her long and hard. She didn't put up much of
a fight.

They didn't come up for air until they were both in danger of passing
out from the lack of oxygen.

"Wow, that was..." Leda breathed, resting her forehead against his
chest.

"Yeah, it was." Logan didn't quite understand what had come over him,
but he wasn't about to complain, either.

After a moment, Leda withdrew a little. Pushing a strand of hair off
her face, she cleared her throat. "Okay, that's er... on that note, I
think we should call it a night."

Logan peered down into her eyes. "You're sure?"

"Yes. Definitely. I... I think we should definitely call it a night."
Licking her lips, Leda nodded. "I'll see you at the mansion."

"Okay." Not much else he could say. Stepping aside, Logan watched her
climb into the Jeep and slowly drive away.

He needed a cold shower.

*********

A couple of days later, Logan caught her sketching in one of the
quieter corners of the garden. From across the lawn, he watched her
bite her lower lip, deep in concentration, as she tried to get some
line or another just right. Remembering those same perfect teeth
biting down his own lip just a few short nights ago made something
tighten in his chest.

He didn't know what it was about her he found so fascinating. He'd
met women more beautiful than her, smarter and stronger than her, but
telling himself that didn't help. To make matters worse, he couldn't
even chalk it all up to simple case of lust. He knew lust, and this
was definitely something more. Somehow, without even trying, she'd
gotten under his skin and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about
it.

She'd been avoiding him since that night at the bar. She hadn't been
obvious about it, quite the opposite, but that didn't change the fact
that she'd been careful not to be left alone with him. The question
was, was she worried about his or her own control - or lack thereof?

Walking over to her, he peered over her shoulder to take a look at
what she was drawing. "What's that?"

She didn't sound particularly surprised to hear his voice next to her
ear. She must've noticed him keeping on eye on her, again.

"It's a design for a tattoo," she answered, never lifting her eyes
from her sketchbook.

Logan took another look at the outline of two delicate sea horses
with their tails entwined. "Not bad."

That earned him a half a smile. "Thanks."

Sitting down next to her on the stone bench, he watched her sketch
for awhile.

"You've been avoiding me."

Lifting her head, she glanced at him and gave out a short laugh.
"Don't be ridiculous. If I was trying to avoid you, would I still be
sitting here, talking to you?"

They both knew she was lying, just as they both knew that she'd never
admit to it.

They sat there in silence, eyes locked in some bizarre staring
contest. Logan didn't understand what it was that she was so scared
about. Did she think that he'd jump at her the second she let her
guard down, or something?

Eyes softening, he forgot about their unofficial contest. He didn't
want her to be afraid, or worried around him. Spying a stray strand
of hair which had escaped from her French braid, he gently brushed it
back, behind her ear. He allowed his fingers linger for just a moment
longer than was really necessary, just because.

"I can wait."

The expression on her face didn't change that much at his low, quiet
voice, but her eyes... Slowly, those dark eyes lit up, smiling at him
radiantly.

For once, he'd managed to say just the right thing.

After awhile, he turned to look at the garden and the students
playing a little further away. "So, do you have any tattoos?" His
voice was deceptively nonchalant.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Leda grinned at him.

Returning her gaze, Logan gave her a slow, knowing smile. "That's a
'yes'."

Before she could decide whether to wipe the cocky expression off his
face or simply ignore him, Storm came by.

"There you are!"

"Hi, Storm." Leda smiled at her. "I'll be ready in just a sec."

Logan watched from one woman to the other, somewhat intrigued. "You
two going somewhere?"

"Yes, we're going for a ride." Looking at him with a small smile,
Storm tilted her head a little to the side. "Would you like to come
along?"

He actually considered it for a second before shaking his head.
"Pass. Thanks."

Turning her attention back to Leda, Storm moved to have a look at her
sketchbook. "That looks great. Have you thought of the colors you're
going to use on it, yet?"

"Well, it should look something like this once it's finished," Leda
said, setting her pad down and tucking up her jeans-leg a little.

Bending down to see better, Storm looked at the small, colorful sea
horse tattooed on the inside of Leda's right ankle. "Ooh, that's so
cute."

Logan wouldn't have used the word 'cute' himself, but he silently
agreed that it did look pretty. Having now first hand confirmation
that he'd been right about the tattoo issue, he wondered if Leda had
any more of them elsewhere on her body. Before he had a chance to ask
her about it though, she'd gathered up her things and was about to
leave with Storm.

Flashing a quick smile at his way, she waved her hand good-bye. "See
you later."

Thoughtfully, Logan watched as the two women walk towards the
mansion, laughing at something. "Yeah, later."

********

Smothering a yawn, Rogue turned off the TV. "That's it, I'm off to
bed."

"Guess we'd better turn in, as well." Tiredly, Jean ran her fingers
through her hair before following after Scott. "Night, Logan."

Logan glanced up from his solitary game of pool. "Night Jeannie."
Then, returning his attention back to the game, he pocketed the last
ball. Staring at the empty pool table, he wondered idly whether he
should play another round, or go outside and have a cigar. Before he
could make up his mind, he heard familiar footsteps coming his way.

Turning around, he saw Leda at the doorway.

"Hi." She seemed a little surprised to see him. "I thought everyone
had gone to sleep already. Or, are you waiting up to watch the all
night Sledge Hammer marathon, too?"

"No. Just not tired, yet." Then, raising his brow, Logan gave her a
curious look. "Sledge Hammer?"

Leda grinned a little. "Yeah. It should begin in about half an hour."

Muttering something about weird tastes, Logan nodded towards the pool
table. "You play?"

"Sure." Picking up a cue stick, Leda watched him rack the balls.
"Rotation okay with you?"

Glancing up, Logan gave her a meditative look. "Sure."

Re-racking the balls, this time in order, he picked up his stick.
"You wanna break?"

"Okay." Flashing him a quick smile, Leda bent over the green felt and
sent the cue ball flying. Looking thoughtfully at the disarray she'd
accomplished, she tried to decide on the best angle for her shot.
Then, focusing carefully, she stroke the cue ball - and completely
missed her shot.

Frowning, Logan watched the table. He didn't understand how she
could've missed. It should've been easy as pie. Then, pushing the
matter out of his mind he concentrated on his own game.

"So, where'd you and Ro go today?"

"Nowhere, really." Leda watched him pocket the second ball. "We just
drove around and talked."

Trying to figure out the best direction for his next shot, Logan gave
her a quick glance. "You two have really hit it off, eh?"

"She's okay." Leda shrugged lightly.

Pocketing the next three balls easily, Logan miscalculated the angle
needed to make the sixth shot. Keeping his eyes on the table, he
watched Leda sink her ball and then, miss another perfectly easy
shot.

Looking up, Leda caught his somewhat perplexed expression. "What? I
said I'd play. Never said I was any good at it. 'Sides, I play much
better when I don't have to use that damn cue ball."

"A-ha." Logan seemed to suddenly find the whole situation way too
amusing. "You wanna try that shot again? Without the cue ball."

Making a face at him, Leda nonetheless gave it another try. This
time, she had no problem sending the ball exactly where she intended
it to go. With a happy smile, she searched for the next ball.

"So, what did you do today?"

"Nothing much. Hung out with Jean and Rogue, bugged Ol' One Eye a
little. The usual."

Pausing to chalk the tip of her stick, Leda looked at him. "I've been
meaning to ask you about that. What is it with you and Scott? You're
always cracking jokes about him."

Logan grinned. "It's just too easy to resist."

Bending down a little, Leda took aim and sank the next ball. "Well,
maybe, if you gave him a chance, you'd see that he's not such a bad
guy."

Giving her a sharp, inspecting look, Logan shrugged. "The kid needs
to learn to lighten up a little."

Glancing up at him, Leda missed her shot. "Oops. Your turn."

"Speaking of lightening up..." Logan pocketed his shot with ease.
"What's with you and Jean?"

"What do you mean? I get along with her just fine."

At Logan's meaningful look, Leda tilted her head and smiled a little
crookedly. "Okay, we haven't exactly bonded. So what?"

"Nothing. Just wondered why you don't seem to like her too much."

Biting down her lip, Leda stared at the pool table for a moment.
Then, raising her head to meet Logan's inquisitive eyes, she sighed.
"She's a telepath."

"So?"

"So, pretty much anything else can be taken away from me, but my
thoughts, they're mine and mine alone. I don't like the idea of
anyone poking around in my mind."

Logan could understand that. He didn't want anyone poke around in his
mind, either. Oh, he knew Jean wouldn't intentionally invade anyone's
privacy, but accidents did happen.

Pocketing the last ball, he nodded. "Fair enough."

Putting down her stick, Leda glanced at her watch. "Ah, the marathon
is about to begin. Care to join me?"

"Sledge Hammer, eh?" Scratching his chin, Logan pretended to think it
over for a moment. "Why not."

"Great." Leda smiled. "I'll make the popcorn. You can take care of
the drinks."

*

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

Turning to look at Leda as she, yet again, repeated the catch phrase
in tandem with Hammer, Logan shook his head. "I still can't believe
that *this* is one of your favourite shows. The only thing this thing
has going for it is Doreau."

"Yeah, she's my favourite, too. Probably not for the same reasons,
but..." Leda grinned at him, unfazed. "With that trademark kick of
hers, she's a real role model for women."

Still shaking his head, Logan pointed at the flickering screen where
Captain Trunk was once again yelling at Hammer. "I mean, just look at
that! This couldn't be any more stereotypical if it tried."

"Oh, come on. It can't really be *that* bad, or else you wouldn't
still be watching." Leda teased. "Besides, I could have sworn I heard
you laugh at least once or twice tonight."

Grunting, Logan hid a smile. "Ya must've heard wrong."

"Yeah, must've." Smothering a grin, Leda turned her attention back to
the show where Hammer was busy talking to his gun.

*

Somewhere between 'The Secret Of My Excess' and 'Here's To You, Mrs.
Hammer' Logan had dropped off. Getting up gingerly, so as not to
awake him, Leda looked at him in the dim light. Loathe to disturb him
when he appeared so peaceful, she instead fetched a blanket and
carefully draped it on him.

For once Leda was able to stare at him to her heart's content without
being worried about being caught in the act. With a faint smile, she
thought he wouldn't have been pleased at being the object of such
close scrutiny, but she wasn't about to let the rare opportunity go
to waste. Lifting her hand, she meant to brush a strand of hair off
his forehead. In mid motion, though, she changed her mind in fear of
waking him up. Tucking the blanket up instead, she whispered softly,
"Good night, Logan."

Turning off the television, she quietly headed upstairs.

As her footsteps left the room, Logan opened his eyes, smiling into
the darkness. "Night, Leda."

*********

For the past few days Westchester had been suffering in the throes of
a major heat wave. The nights were the worst, as the hot, humid air
stood still, making the sheets stick to one's skin like bandages
around a mummy.

Having tried to fall asleep, and having found the task utterly
impossible, Logan decided that the best place to be was in the pool.
Grabbing a towel, he had his hand on the doorknob when it suddenly
occurred to him that perhaps he shouldn't be padding around au
naturel. He wasn't worried about his own modesty, but rather that of
the students. Everybody was supposed to be sleeping, but one never
knew for sure. Quickly donning on a pair of boxer shorts, he slipped
out of the darkened mansion and headed for sweet relief.

Floating lazily in the pool, he smelled her before he heard her
approach.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone would be here at this hour."

Splashing the water, Logan grinned at her. "Plenty of room for two."

"Sure you don't mind?" she asked, stepping closer.

"I'd tell you if I did."

Smiling, Leda sat down and let her bare feet dangle in the water.
Closing her eyes, she sighed in relief. "Aah, feels wonderful. I
swear; this heat wave is slowly killing me."

Sloshing a little water on her, Logan looked meaningfully at her
rolled up jeans and yellow t-shirt. "It would feel even more
wonderful if ya came in all the way."

Touching her upper lip with the back of her hand, she shook her head.
"Nah, this is just fine."

"Leda, you're melting." Logan gave her a questioning look. "What is
it? Can't you swim, or..."

"No suit." She sounded slightly embarrassed at her confession.

"Well, why didn't ya say something? I'm sure Jean or Storm would've
loaned you one." Sometimes, Logan just didn't understand her.

"I'm sure they would've, but I just..." Chewing on her lip, she
seemed to consider her words carefully. "I would've bought a suit,
but since I don't have any income right now, I thought I'd better
save my money. And it's not that easy to ask for every damn thing you
need. I hate being a freeloader."

Understanding finally dawning, Logan got out of the water to sit
beside her. "You're not a freeloader. You do your part around the
house. Besides, the Professor invited you to stay."

"Still..." Not being totally independent truly bothered Leda.

Understanding exactly what she meant, Logan considered her for a
moment. "Well, you could always become a teacher."

"A teacher?" Raising her brows, Leda turned to look at him.

"Why not? I've seen your drawings. You're good. You could become an
art teacher, or something."

"'Or something' is right." Leda laughed. "Logan, I design tattoos.
I'm hardly Michelangelo."

"Look, all I'm saying is, you're talented and I think you could do
it. Just think about it." Jumping back into the pool, Logan gave her
a slow smile. "But, in the mean while, why won't you just jump in. No
one but us here, darlin'."

Blushing sweetly, she returned his smile. "I'm not going
skinny-dipping with you."

Arching his brows, he flashed her a wicked grin. "Who said anything
about skinny-dipping?" When her blush deepened, his smile broadened.
Resting his hands on her jean clad knees, he asked innocently, "You
are wearing underwear, aren't ya?"

"Of course."

"Well, there ya go." As far as Logan was concerned, the problem was
solved.

Biting her lip, Leda gazed at the glittering water. The pool *did*
look awfully inviting, and it really *was* hot; if she didn't get
cooled down she just might suffer a heat stroke. Glancing at Logan
from the corner of her eye, she finally decided to simply go with it.

Getting up, she shed her jeans and t-shirt and dove in.

The water felt simply divine as it caressed and cooled her body.
Enjoying the sensation, she stayed underwater as long as she could
before resurfacing. Gasping for air, she trod water. Smiling, she
turned to Logan. "You were right, it's much better this way."

Logan could only agree. She was wearing only a flower patterned, pink
bra and black panties. Admiring her form, he thought it was an
interesting combination. But, while Leda obviously was feeling a lot
cooler, Logan suddenly noticed a decided raise in the temperature.

Swimming a few laps didn't help much, so he thought he'd try a little
laughter. Without a warning, he began splashing water all over the
place, though mainly at Leda's face. Recovering quickly, she
retaliated with gusto, laughing out loud as he invented new and
original ways of spraying the water all over her. They played until
they were both out of breath and after much silly banter, decided to
call it a draw.

Sighing contently, Leda let her head fall back and watched at the
dark night sky.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be able to travel to one
of those stars out there?"

Looking up, Logan shrugged. "Sure, sometimes."

Smiling dreamily, Leda kept on staring at the stars. "Did you know
that the Greek had dozens of myths on how the stars and
constellations came to be? You know, like Andromeda and Cassiope,
Pegasus?"

"You're really into that mythic stuff, aren't ya?"

Turning to meet his gaze, Leda tried explain. "Well... the Greek,
they wrote about *everything*, no aspect of the human life or
condition was foreign to them. And they wrote all that stuff so long
ago it's... I mean..." Struggling for the right words, she motioned
with her hands, sending the water rippling around them. "Nothing
really new has been written since. All the stories out there are just
some variation or another of the stuff they wrote about. I think it's
kinda amazing."

Logan watched her eyes glow as she spoke. Her voice was soft and
filled with passion, as she shared her feelings with him, trying to
make him see the beauty of the subject she herself saw so clearly.
Well, he saw the beauty all right, but it wasn't the same one she was
talking about. *She* was beautiful, and right then he couldn't have
cared less about the ancient Greeks.

Raising his hand to touch her cheek, he watched her eyes darken.
Holding them with his own, he drew her closer until their bodies were
almost touching in the water.

"Do you know what I've been dying to do ever since you took your
shirt off tonight?" he whispered in a low voice, smiling slightly to
let her know he was teasing her.

Not trusting her own voice, Leda silently shook her head, never
taking her eyes off his.

"To see that tattoo on your back."

A slow smile spread on Leda's face. Ducking her head a little, she
turned around in the water so that her back was to him.

Brushing her wet ponytail out of the way, Logan looked at the
Dreamcatcher covering her left shoulder blade. It was being partly
obscured by her bra, so he gently pushed the strap down to have a
better look.

"Beautiful." His voice was hoarse as he slowly traced the pattern
with his fingers. "One of your designs?"

"Yes," she breathed. Her skin felt unbearably hot under his touch.

Lowering his head, Logan pressed his lips against the tattoo. Her
skin tasted sweet and salty, all at once. He liked it. Landing soft,
butterfly kisses along her skin he savoured the small sounds she
emitted every time he touched her. Reaching the nape of her neck, he
closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. He was so engrossed in his
worship; he never heard Jean and Scott approaching the pool.

"Oops!" Jean's surprised voice startled them from their private
little world. "Sorry, we didn't see you in there."

Turning around, Logan growled quietly. "Nice timing, Scooter."

Having made sure her bra was properly on, Leda turned to meet the
couple as well. "No, it's okay. I was just about to get out anyway."
Her cheeks were flaming and her voice sounded a little strained but
she didn't shy away from their undeniably curious looks. "The pool's
all yours."

"Leda..." Knitting his brows, Logan watched her get out of the water
and gather up her clothes. Following after her, he ignored Jean and
Scott who were doing their best trying to pretend to be invisible.
"Leda, wait."

Turning around, she gave him a tight smile. "Logan, it's okay.
Really. We'll talk tomorrow."

**********

"Hey, kid -- sorry. Rogue." Logan corrected himself before she did.
"Have you seen Leda?"

Rogue shook her head. "Not for awhile. Sorry."

Grunting, Logan went to Storm next.

He must've asked at least half a dozen people but no one seemed to
have seen Leda all morning. Finally, concluding that she must still
be in her room, he headed upstairs.

He found her standing outside his own room, biting her lip. Just as
she was about to finally knock on the door, she noticed him standing
in the hall, watching her.

"Hi." Smiling a little, she motioned towards his room. "I was
just..."

Silently opening the door, Logan gestured for her to step in. He
watched as her eyes roamed around the room, taking in the few
details. It probably looked a lot like her own; he hadn't really
bothered with personalizing the decor.

Finally, her eyes came to rest on him. Standing in the middle of the
room, he waited more or less patiently for her to begin.

Taking a deep breath, Leda licked her lips. "I wanted to talk about
last night. No, that's not... I'm sorry, it was never my intention to
let it go that far, and--"

"Why not?"

His question seemed to take her by surprise, and she took a moment
before replying. "Logan, I... care about you, but there are things
you don't know about me."

"There are things you don't know about *me*."

"I know, but I--" She fell silent, abruptly, in the middle of a
sentence. Eyes narrowing, she walked over to Logan's bedside table
and pulled out a singed badge from under a few sheets of paper.

Staring first at the dirty red and black triangle and then at Logan,
she felt her heart race at an impossible speed. "Where'd you get
this?" Waving the badge in her hand, her eyes bore into Logan's.

"You know what it is?" Taking an involuntary step closer, Logan
looked at her cautiously.

Leda's nostrils flared at barely restrained rage. "Do you?"

Staying where he was, Logan watched her. He could smell her sudden
fear, but the look in her eyes... They were like arctic glacier, cold
and unforgiving. She was terrified of something all right, but she
was ready to jump for his jugular at the wrong answer.

Avoiding any sudden moves, he spoke carefully, never taking his eyes
off hers. "I don't know what it is, but think it might have something
to do with my past."

Staring at him for a long while, she at last appeared to accept his
answer. Nodding, her breathing seemed to come more easily. "It has
everything to with my past. And I mean that literally."

Logan waited for her to continue, but she kept her silence. Finally,
he realized that if he wanted answers, turnabout was fair play. The
question was, was he ready to trust her, *really* trust her, with
everything?

Locking eyes with her, there wasn't a hint of a smirk or a smile on
his face. "You show me yours, and I'll show you mine."

He watched her struggle with the same doubts he himself had just a
second ago, not sure which she would decide. After a long
deliberation, she gave him a short nod.

Walking over by the window, Leda tried to calm herself enough to be
able to talk coherently. Licking her lips, she concentrated on a
branch of a tree outside. Raising the badge she was still crushing in
her fist, she began her story.

"This is the emblem of a research institute in Canada. The place that
created me. There's *a lot* I don't know about it. What I *do* know,
is that while they did do some legitimate research, most of their
work had to do with some rather dubious genetic stuff. I think they
might've experimented on captured mutants, and maybe even on human
parents of mutants, but I'm not sure about that. All I know for sure
is that they made the three of us - Jane, John and Jim - in one of
their labs."

Facing Logan once again, she handed him the piece of fabric. "Your
turn."

Glancing down at the badge in his hand, Logan tried to think of where
to begin.

"There isn't much to tell. I was found near a military compound in
Canada, the same one where I found this from. I don't know what my
real name is, or how old I am. I can't remember anything of my life
beyond the past fifteen years. I'm not even sure of how my skeleton
was engrafted with adamantium. All I've got is a bunch of questions,
and nightmares.

In my nightmares, I'm usually submersed in water. There are people
around me, but I can never see them clearly. What I *can* see
clearly, are the scalpels. I can feel them cutting into my arms and
legs, into my chest. There are lights flashing above me and the pain
is--. If I could, I'd scream. But I'm under water, and I can't even
breathe. I can't breathe. I'm drowning, but it's taking too long.
Dying is taking too long. The pain--. I know I must be dead, but the
pain just won't stop."

Looking up, Logan met Leda's dark eyes. They weren't cold anymore.
Now, they were filled with hurt and pain, for him. She was hurting
for him.

Without a word, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around
his waist. She didn't say anything; she just hugged him tightly as
she could.

After a moment's hesitation, Logan rested his chin lightly on her
crown. "I don't know if the nightmares are flashes from my past. They
could all be just stuff my mind's made up."

Withdrawing a little, Leda searched his eyes. Swallowing the lump
from her throat, she nodded slowly. "They could be, but you don't
believe that, do you?"

"No, I don't."

After a moment's silence, Logan told her to go on with her part of
the story. Clearing her throat, Leda tried to remember where she'd
left off.

"Apart from my ability to detect mutants, sort of, they seemed rather
disappointed at my 'powers'. Still, I could be made useful in other
ways. I found a shredded memo of something called a 'Breeding
Program'. I didn't want to stick around to find out what the hell it
meant. I was fifteen. John was the same age. When we heard that they
were going to transfer the three of us into another location, we knew
it would probably be the only chance we'd ever get.

They took every precaution they could. The van was armoured, we were
shackled, gagged and blindfolded, and there were armed guards. It was
insane. I knew we didn't have a prayer.

To this day, I don't know how John did it. I mean, there wasn't much
they didn't know about us. We'd been prodded and tested our whole
lives. They knew us better, and in far greater detail than we knew
ourselves. How he'd managed to keep any of his powers a secret from
them, I'll never know. But, somehow, he had. He blew up the whole
thing. The van, the guards, the driver, all of it. He incinerated
everything but the three of us.

We stayed together for that first day. Partly because we were scared
shitless, partly out of necessity. We knew we all had tracing devices
implanted into us and we needed to get rid of them, ASAP. I had one
on the inside of my right ankle and another on my left shoulder
blade. Like John, I was lucky. It took us ages to find the ones
they'd put inside Jim. The first one wasn't a problem but the other
sucker was in his neck. Deep inside. We had to punch his lights out
before we cut him open. I was sure we were going to kill him, but
somehow he made it. He was thirteen. It must've hurt like a son of a
bitch, but he didn't cry. None of us ever did.

The next morning we all went on our merry ways. That was eleven years
ago, and I've been running ever since."

They were both quiet for a long time after she finished. They'd just
shared with each other things they'd never told anyone else about,
and they needed some time to reflect.

Logan was the first to speak up again. "What's the name of that
institute?"

Leda gave him a small, tired smile. She knew exactly what he had in
mind. "'Haskell Research Center'. But it won't do you any good 'cause
it doesn't exist anymore." At his questioning look, she explained. "A
couple of years ago I tried to find out who or what was behind the
whole operation. I learned that the Haskell Research Center was owned
by some offshore, dummy company. After that, all I did was hit a lot
of dead ends. Finally, I gave up."

Grunting in frustration, Logan paced the room. So close and yet so
far. Of course, just because Leda hadn't been able to find out what
she'd been after didn't mean that *he* couldn't either.

Taking a break from the pacing, he turned to her. "So, the three
stooges, they were from the institute?"

"Or, they were hired by it." Leda nodded.

"How did they find you?"

Making a face, she shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine.
Sometimes I can go on for years and not even hear a whisper from
them. At other times, I can just barely keep ahead of them."

Deep in thought, Logan mulled over everything she'd just told him.
The answers *were* out there, somewhere. For both of them.

Leda soon interrupted his musings. "You said you found the badge up
at some military compound. That means they must've had something to
do with the Haskell Research Center, right?" At Logan's nod, she
continued. "Now, regardless of whether your nightmares are actual
memories or not, we know that *someone* experimented on you. If it
was the Haskell people, is it possible that that's not all they did?
What if they created you, just like they made me, John and Jim?"

Logan stared at her for a moment. He wasn't shocked, precisely, but
the feeling he was experiencing right then might've been a close
cousin to it. Then, recovering, he shrugged. "I suppose anything's
possible. Like I said, the past fifteen years are pretty much all I
remember. Though, according to Jean, because of my mutation I could
well be older than the Professor."

"Oh."

"Doesn't mean your theory couldn't still hold water."

"No, I don't think so." Thoughtfully, Leda shook her head. "You see,
when I was about thirteen or fourteen, one of the lab technicians
told us that they'd introduced an 'expiration date' into our 'freak
genes', as a precaution. According to him, one day, when our time was
up, we'd just... drop dead. You know, kinda like the replicants in
'Blade Runner'. Now, it had been a shitty day and he was ready to
shoot us, which is probably why he told us that. But, the thing is,
he was human, and I *know* he wasn't lying." Raising her head, she
met Logan's dark eyes. "So, if you're really older than the
Professor, I'd say it's safe to assume that no one's added anything
funky into your genes."

Logan had always known that one day he'd find the keys to his past.
And when he did, he'd find the men behind his nightmares. Now, he
made another promise. One day, he'd find the men responsible for
Leda's nightmares. And when he did, he'd make sure they'd learn the
*real* meaning of the word.

"Maybe he wasn't lying, but did ya ever think that maybe someone had
lied to him?" It was possible, in those kinds of institutions the
right hand didn't always know what the left hand was doing.

"Now, that's the million dollar question, isn't it?"

The look on her face was forever imprinted on Logan's heart. Drawing
her into his arms, he held her silently, knowing there wasn't
anything he could say or do to make it all right.

Then, going for a little levity, he asked, "So, if your name really
was Jane Doe at first, where'd ya pick up 'Leda'?"

Appreciating his effort, clumsy as it was, she smiled a little.
"Couldn't you guess? From one of those Greek myths, of course."

With a hint of a grin, he shook his head. "Figures."

They fell silent again, each drawing solace from the other's
presence. Leda didn't know how long they stood there like that but
finally, she broke the embrace.

Smiling softly, she said, "I think I'll go for a walk, or something.
I need some fresh air."

Planting a quick kiss on the top of her head, Logan let go of her. He
needed a little time for himself, too.

********

The following morning, Logan had a battle plan all hatched out. He
itched to go straight at it but first, he needed to talk it out with
Leda; it was really more her secret than his and he wouldn't betray
her trust even if he only meant to help her.

He'd barely gotten her hesitant go-ahead as he unceremoniously
marched them both to Jean. Briefly filling her in on their situation
he asked if there was any way to find out the truth.

"You're a geneticist. Isn't there some kind of test you could do to
see if someone's been messing with our genes or not?"

Not wanting to get their hopes up, Jean considered her words
carefully. "Well, I could do a DNA test and look for any
similarities, but I have to warn you, it is a long shot and the
results aren't necessarily conclusive."

"We understand that." Leda nodded. "It would just be nice to know for
sure, one way or the other."

She hadn't appreciated Logan's bulldozing ways in getting her to come
along to this impromptu meeting, but if there *was* a chance to find
out the truth, once and for all... Well, she could tolerate a little
bullying.

*********

Staring at her computer screen, Jean knitted her brows. At first, she
thought she had made a mistake, gotten the samples contaminated
somehow, but she *was* an expert at what she did, and she *had* been
careful. Still, the results simply didn't make any sense. Or rather,
they made total sense in an awful, incredibly implausible kind of
way.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Jean considered her
options. There was really only one thing for her to do. She'd have to
re-do the test on two of the samples and test at least twenty,
possibly even more, genes to be *absolutely* certain. She couldn't
afford to be wrong, not about this.

Closing her eyes, she tiredly stretched her neck muscles. It was
really late and she'd been at it since dawn. Glancing at her watch,
she thought longingly at the warm bubble bath she had planned on
taking, but now it looked like she'd have to take a rain check on it.

Returning her attention back to the computer screen, Jean decided to
get a few hours of sleep before beginning the new test. She'd have to
be alert, and right then she was ready to doze off at any moment.

With a heavy sigh, she turned off the screen.

*

Gloomily, Jean thought of her next task. At last, she had the results
for the second test ready. Now, she'd have to give them to Logan and
Leda. She most decidedly wasn't looking forward to it. The silver
lining was that she wouldn't have to do it all alone; the Professor
was going to be there to offer moral support. They were definitely
all going to need it.

********

"So, what's the verdict?" Logan never was one to beat about the bush.

Glancing at the Professor from the corner of her eye, Jean mentally
shook herself. She could do this.

"As I told you before, there are no absolute certainties, but as far
as I could determine, the alleged 'expiration date' doesn't exist in
either of your systems."

The relief Leda felt at Jean's words was immeasurable. With a huge
grin on her face, she turned to Logan. She was just itching to jump
on and hug him, but while he appeared glad enough of the news, there
was something in his eyes that made her smile falter.

Jean's announcement took a huge load off Logan's chest. Still, he
couldn't help thinking that there was something off about her manner.
Despite the seemingly good news, he could definitely hear a 'but'
coming on.

Looking straight into Jean's eyes, he voiced his question. "But?"

"But, I'm afraid that's not all I found." Looking from Logan to Leda,
she was compassionate, but dead serious. "While I was looking for any
similarities between your genes I found something thoroughly
unexpected. I'm afraid there is no easy way to tell you this, so I'm
just going to say it." Taking a deep breath, she delivered the line
she knew had the potential to shatter their world. "The DNA test I
did gives every indication that the two of you are in fact brother
and sister."

For a second, it felt as if someone had suddenly sucked all the air
out of the room. Then, in a whoosh, it was re-filled again.

Eyes narrowed, Logan stared at Jean. "Not funny, Jeannie."

"It isn't meant to be, Logan," Jean said, returning his stare,
unflinching.

Leda was having trouble breathing. Her eyes traveled to the
Professor, who sat silently, observing the situation. She couldn't
understand how he could be so still and calm. Shifting attention from
him to Jean, Leda at last rediscovered her ability to speak. "What
the hell are you talking about? What does that mean, 'every
indication'?!"

Turning to her, Jean tried to explain. "It's not possible to say with
a hundred percent certainty whether or not two people are definitely
siblings. The statistical figures are only an indication. But, the
genetic marker match between the two of you is as close to certainty
as it is possible to get with our current knowledge of genetics."

Jean saw the devastating impact her words had on the other woman; she
couldn't even begin to fathom how she would feel in her place, but
she tried. "I am so sorry."

After that, silence reigned. There didn't seem to be anything else to
say. The world had just been shaken from its axis and it took
monumental effort to merely stay standing upright.

A low growl escaped deep from Logan's throat. Clenching his fists he
wanted to punch something or someone, but he seemed to be unable to
move. For a crazy split second, he thought Magneto had returned.
Shaking his head a little, he told himself to get a grip.

Finally, he turned his eyes to Leda. At the sight of her, his brains
seemed to short circuit completely. He was simply unable to form a
coherent thought. All he could do was stare at her. He couldn't take
his eyes off her. Her scent filled his nostrils and he could almost
feel the smoothness of her skin against his fingertips. His eyes
traveled to her neck and he remembered the way she had tasted that
night in the pool. Sweet and salty. Coppery.

Frowning, Logan blinked. No, that wasn't right. But the coppery taste
persisted. It took him a small eternity to realize what the taste
was. Blood. He'd bitten his tongue and not even realized it.

"No." Leda was the first to break the long silence. Defiantly, eyes
hard, she stared at Jean. "She's lying."

Jean didn't say or do anything to try and defend either herself, or
her findings. She knew what her little bomb meant to both Logan and
Leda, and she understood that denial was a perfectly normal, even
expected first reaction. It would take time for them all to properly
come to grips with the new reality of things. Lots of time.

The silence stretched on.

Turning to look at Logan, Leda waited for him to say something.
Anything.

When it became apparent that he wasn't, she could no longer contain
herself. "You don't actually believe a word she's saying, do you?
Logan?"

The betrayed look in her eyes hit him square in the chest.

Her voice had finally broken the spell and he found that he could, in
fact, still think straight. No, he didn't want to believe it was
true, either. His gut screamed at him that it wasn't possible. No way
were they related. *But*, he knew Jean. He knew she wouldn't have
come forward with her findings if she'd had any doubts about the
matter. She would've double- and triple-checked everything before
coming to them. There was no mistake. But, even more importantly,
Jean was one of the few people in the world he trusted. She wasn't
lying.

"She has no reason to lie." His voice was raw when he finally spoke.

Dumbstruck, Leda slowly shook her head from side to side. She
couldn't believe that he, of all people, would be so naive. "People
lie all the time. For no reason what so ever. Mutants are no
different."

Steeling himself, Logan looked straight into her eyes. He wanted to
make certain she understood him. "I trust her."

His low voice might've as well been a knife struck straight into her
heart. Grinding her teeth together, Leda swore to herself that she
would not break in front of these people. They would not see her
hurt, even if it killed her. And it just might.

Her dark eyes swept the room, briefly pausing at each of its
occupants before moving on to the next one. She was burning with
anger almost bordering on hatred, and yet she'd never felt so cold in
her life.

Speaking through clenched teeth, she kept her voice even and quiet.
"Go to hell."

Turning on her heels, she stalked out of the room.

With a somber glance towards Jean and the Professor, Logan started
after her.

He didn't get very far before Jean's soft voice stopped him.
"Logan..."

Expressionless, he turned around. The compassion in Jean's eyes
wasn't something he was prepared to handle right then. If ever.

"Don't." He stared at her, hard, until she turned her gaze away.

Without another word, Logan walked out, leaving Jean and the
Professor staring helplessly at each other.

*

Stalking through the corridors, Logan headed straight to the garage.
He had to get out of the mansion before he killed someone. Growling,
he looked for the motorbike but it wasn't there. He'd seen Scott on
his way out, so he knew One Eye didn't have it. There was only one
other option. Leda.

Logan didn't know whether to howl out in frustration, or to laugh at
the bitter irony. The two of them, Leda and himself, they really were
alike. Both wanting, *needing*, to take off.

The thought hit him like a hammer. She'd taken off. Hit the road.
Left without a word. And he had no idea if she planned on coming
back. Suddenly, his mouth felt dry as the Sahara and, involuntarily,
his claws popped out.

He *had* to get the hell away.

Forcing the claws back in, he took a step towards the Jeep. Then,
realizing that the cage wasn't going to do it this time, he headed
back to the mansion. There was only one place he could go to. The
Danger Room.

**********

Lighting up a cigar, Logan gave a cursory glance towards the clock on
the wall. Sitting alone in the darkened kitchen next to an open
window, he pondered idly whether four o'clock in the morning was
considered a very late hour, or just an extremely early one. It was
really one of those annoying 'is the glass half-filled or half-empty'
questions, but it gave him something else to think about, even if
only for a moment.

Leda hadn't returned, yet. He would've gone looking for her except,
he didn't have a clue as to where to begin. For all he knew, she
could've been on the other side of the country by now. She was very
good at disappearing. She'd had a lot of practice.

Taking a puff at his cigar, Logan tried to envision what it would've
been like had he met her when she was still a child. He probably
would have been ecstatic to find out he had a little sister. Even one
that had been created in a lab. Probably. He had a hard time
picturing it. When he thought of Leda, when he looked at her, smelled
her, he wasn't exactly filled with brotherly thoughts. To him, she
was simply a woman. A woman he happened to be in love with.

"Shit."

Biting his cigar, Logan felt like heading back to the Danger Room for
another round. It had helped a little, before. He'd turned the
safeties off and thrown himself at it like there was no tomorrow. He
didn't know how long it had lasted, and he didn't particularly care.
All he knew was that once it had been over, he'd been aching from the
beating, but that he'd also done some major damage himself. But now,
that meager semblance of peace was long gone.

However, before he could make a move, his finely attuned senses told
him that he was no longer the only one awake in the mansion. Someone
was quietly making their way towards the kitchen. Sniffing the air,
Logan felt the burning in the pit of his stomach ease up a bit. She'd
come back.

He could tell the exact moment she smelled his cigar. Her steps
paused for a moment as if she was debating whether or not she really
wanted to face him just yet. Then, after a beat, she continued
walking, obviously having decided to bite the bullet.

Stopping at the doorway, she stared at him quietly before finally
walking in. Taking the seat opposite him across the table, she rested
her hands in her lap and watched out of the window.

She looked like hell. Her bottom lip was split and swollen, and she
had a big, ugly bruise across her left cheek-bone. And, judging by
the careful way she had just seated herself, she probably had more
bruises elsewhere on her body, hidden beneath the clothing. Unlike
his injuries, her marks would take awhile to heal.

They sat in silence, pretending to be interested in the view the open
window offered until Logan finished his cigar. Then, as if by cue,
they at last turned to one another.

"I--" Pausing to clear her throat, Leda began anew. "I have this
chorus in my head, and it just won't shut up, you know. I've been
listening to it go through the same things over and over again until
I was ready to shoot myself, just to make it stop. But it won't. The
frightening thing is, the stuff I want it to be quiet about the most
are the things I know actually make the most sense." Searching his
eyes in the darkness, she nervously licked her dry lips. "Is this
making any sense, or am I finally losing it?"

"I think we're both losing it." Logan's attempt at a grin was a mere
shadow of its usual self. "I've been listening to that same chorus
all damn day, and it's still not making much sense to me."

"What about the part of this not working out?" Leda asked quietly.

Logan's eyes darkened. "Especially that part."

Worrying her lip between her teeth, Leda turned to look out of the
window once more, fighting the tears which threatened to flow
forward. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she took a few deep
breaths before turning to face Logan again.

"I don't want to leave..."

"... but you will, anyway." Logan finished for her.

"It's the only way. The only right thing to do." She tried to sound
more determined than she actually felt. Her dark eyes roamed over his
features, and she ached to reach out and touch him. "When I look at
you, I don't see a big brother. And until I can do just that, it's
better that I leave."

"Leda..." Reaching across the table Logan enclosed her hand into his
own bigger one. Their thoughts had traveled through the same paths,
and they both had come to the same, inevitable conclusions. It didn't
mean that they had to like them, though. Maybe it was the night,
perhaps it was the darkness, but right at that moment he simply
didn't care whether his touch was brotherly or not. Whether he had
the right to touch her or not. He just needed to feel the warmth of
her skin, while he still could.

Leda stared at their hands resting on the table. Shaking her head a
little, she let out a short, humourless laugh. "Those god damn old
Greek gods. This little farce is just up on their alley. They must be
laughing their asses off right about now." Raising her eyes to meet
Logan's, she then smiled a little sadly. "Or, maybe life's just a
bitch."

"Probably the latter." There was the faintest whiff of amusement in
Logan's voice. It felt good to at last find something to laugh about
in this miserable affair.

Intertwining their fingers, they fell quiet for a moment.

"When will you leave?" This time it was Logan who ended the silence.

"Tomorrow morning." Glancing towards the clock on the wall, Leda
corrected herself. "Well, later today. I need to apologize to the
Professor. And to Jean. This mess... it's not her fault, she was just
the unfortunate messenger. I shouldn't have accused her of lying."

"She won't hold it against you."

"We'll see."

Then, after a beat, Logan decided it was time to change the subject.
Nodding towards her bruised cheek, he made sure his voice was light,
with just a tinge of teasing in it. "So, how does the other guy
look?"

"Don't you mean the bulldozer?" Leda asked, glad of the switch in
mood. Gently, she touched the mark with her free hand and tried not
to wince. "Much worse. Lots of dents. Won't be doing much bulldozing
anytime soon."

"That's my girl."

********

The sun was high up on the sky when Logan handed the knapsack he'd
carried to Leda. "Where will you go?"

She gave him a tiny smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Wherever
the road takes me."

Nodding, he understood exactly what she meant.

She made a small move as if to hug him but then seemed to think
better of it. Awkward, she dropped her eyes to the ground and worried
her lower lip between her teeth. Then, raising her eyes to meet his
again, she fished out a small, crumbled piece of paper from her
pocket.

"It's my email addy." A little hesitantly, she handed the slip of
paper to him. "I check it every now and then so, if you ever need any
help kicking butt, or something...." Her voice trailed off.

He stared at the scribbled address in his hand.

A lifeline.

The grip around his heart seemed to ease ever so slightly. When he
spoke, his voice was rougher than usual. "I don't have one of these
yet but as soon as I do, I'll let you know."

His code for 'if you ever need me, I'll be there'.

She gave him a small nod. Message received.

There didn't seem to be anything else left to say so, they simply
stood still, staring at each other. Memorizing every minute detail of
each other. Neither wanting to be the first to move.

But, time stands still for no one and finally they broke their frozen
stance. Carefully wrapping his long arms around her smaller frame
Logan drew her in close for one final embrace. Burying his face
against the crook of her neck he felt her warm breath against his
chest through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Lingering, he breathed
in her scent, savouring the feel of her in his arms. Her hand
traveled up his left arm, her fingernails scraping lightly against
his biceps, and then, like a ghost or a dream, she was gone.

They didn't say good-bye.


- fin -