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Someone was yelling.

Marie woke up with absolutely no idea where she was. She struggled onto her knees, grabbing for her cloak and finding only blankets beneath her hands.

Time to re-evaluate the situation. Taking a breath against utter panic, Marie sat back.

Logan. Jamie.

Big furry guy tried to kill her.

It began so suddenly she barely had time to register the flood of emotion--pure relief-- before she began to cry--buried her head in the blankets to drown it out, shutting her eyes against the utter relief that coursed through her. God, she was safe--she wasn't hungry--she wasn't alone.

He knew what she was and hadn't tossed her into the street like garbage, like everyone else had.

It was several minutes before she could stop--when she'd left home, she hadn't cried. Not since that moment with Cody in her room, collapsed against the wall, trying to control the flow of memories and personality and habits, thoughts and ambitions and fears that had taken her over so suddenly and so completely she hadn't even known who she was or why she was screaming. Only knew that something was very wrong, one of them was hurt, and if someone had asked her, she wouldn't have even been able to tell who.

A low growl and she lifted her head, surprised by the sound, recognizing it--that bar, his stare at those two men, then dark eyes fixing on her, seeing her sitting there, watching him stand up to those who attacked him--did mutants do that, stand up against normal humans? Could they? Humans owned the world--her kind were what they hunted and executed on sight. She knew what they did--she'd seen what they did, on the open streets of St. Louis. Ducking into an alley, head down, praying they couldn't sense it on her, her difference.

Logan, who'd brought her here like an abandoned puppy and for the first time in longer than she could remember, she wasn't hungry, wet, cold, scared. Safe.

Well, scared, yes. But not as much.

It'd been so long--Marie bit into her lip and twisted her fingers through the soft blankets, the feel of the old-fashioned quilt familiar, the clean smell of the pillows. The clean smell of herself--God, how long since she'd had a decent shower? Standing under hot water until her skin burned--washing off filth that had more to do with what was in her than what was on her. Touching her own skin in wonder, amazed that it was clean, finally, after so long.

Shelters, truckers, buses, and right this second, she didn't have a penny to her name, nothing to pay anyone with. And for obvious reasons, he wouldn't accept the type of payment a lone girl without money could offer. Even if she knew how to do it.

Another growl and Marie straightened on the bed, tears slowly drying, eyes going to the door. Considered for a minute, remembering the embrace outside--him and Jamie, her name had been?--

With a strangled sigh, she lay back down, pulling the covers up to her chin and staring at the ceiling. She wasn't used to sleeping straight through a night--God, when had the last time been?

{New York. St. Mary's shelter.} The last time she'd eaten properly, remembering the long looks of the women around her, the significant glances of the volunteers at her gloved arms. They thought she was a junkie. Fair enough. She'd sat through morning Mass wondering why God had done this to her, skipping out before the volunteers got around to asking her any questions, feet on the street.

Mutants were not welcome in the world, she knew that much. Meridian, Jackson, Memphis, St. Louis, New York, Baltimore, they'd taught her that.

So north, drawn like a magnet.

{Okay, so one night here--maybe he's taking me to town tomorrow.} But tomorrow was nebulous, something she hadn't tried to think about very much. Hell, an hour was a scary stretch of unknown territory--an hour made the difference between buying water in a bar and being attacked by someone who wanted her--or Logan--or both of them--

An hour was following the mute jerks of the man who dragged her along chill, snow-coated asphalt and sliding adamantium into the lock of a car. Shoved her in the passenger seat, tossing the heat on, telling her to shut up before he threw her out. Chewing on a cigar for all it was worth, growling at the weather, but utterly at ease hotwiring a car.

He scared her. But just remembering him made her body relax in the blankets--he was here. She was safe.

Marie fell back asleep without another thought--she'd learned that when you had the chance, you didn't waste it.

* * * * *

Logan saw her when he walked into the kitchen.

She was perched on a stool, curled over a bowl of cereal, looking considerably better than she had when he'd last seen her. Big eyes came up--eyes too large for her face--fixing on him with utter and complete focus, a little unnerving. More than a little unnerving, truth be told. The plaid pajamas--blue, comfortably worn, rumpled--were too large for her, making her look even younger than her claimed age. The dark hair was neatly brushed back, secured in a ponytail--hell, except for the thinness and the gloves that coated her hands, she could have been any kid in any kitchen eating her breakfast before going off to school.

"Morning," he managed. He wasn't a morning person and even more, he wasn't used to greeting someone in the morning--he avoided the whole morning after routine whenever possible. Vaguely, as he sifted through Jamie's cabinets, the unfamiliarity of the situation tickled him and he growled to himself.

"Mornin'," she whispered, and he could still feel those eyes on him, watching him, making the skin on his back crawl. Padding barefoot to the refrigerator, he ducked his head inside and instantly got the damned door smashed into his head.

"Shit, Jamie," he growled, and heard her soft laugh.

"Good morning everyone." Oh fuck, Jamie was a morning person. He'd forgotten that. He jerked his head out of the fridge, giving her a glare. Already dressed--how the fuck did she get up so early and still look that good? "Oops, sorry, honey." She didn't sound too damned sorry. "Why doncha make yourself useful and go cut some wood or do whatever it is you do? I'm gonna cook--and of every man I've met, you are the worst cook." She shooed him with one manicured hand. "Get dressed and get out before little Rogue over there has heart-failure watching you pad around in jeans and nothin' else."

His eyes went to Marie, who had flushed all the colors of a sunset and her eyes were now firmly fixed on her bowl. Feeling remarkably exposed--there was probably a good reason why when he had sex he tended to run before morning--Logan growled again and stalked out, hearing Jamie laughing behind him.

Jamie settled on the stool, fixing her eyes on Rogue.

"You feel better, honey?"

Rogue swallowed quickly, almost choking, and Jamie noted the napkin spread neatly in the girl's lap, the way she held her spoon, the straight back. Different from most street girls, definitely.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Jamie," she corrected firmly. "You wanna tell me how old ya are, honey?" she asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She heard the girl's breath draw in sharply.

There was a long pause and Jamie sipped her coffee, keeping her entire body relaxed, calm, at ease, using every trick she knew to encourage confidence.

"Seventeen," she answered, a little warily, eyes flickering up once to take in Jamie's reaction. But there was none, and she thought she saw the girl relax a little.

"Let's do proper introductions, since I think you were a bit too tired last night," Jamie said easily. "Jamesina Richards." She smiled as Rogue lifted her head again, not bothering to extend her hand, knowing that would make the girl even more uncomfortable.

"Rogue, Ma'--Jamie."

"Where ya from?" From the accent and the mannerisms, Jamie was placing her Deep South. Probably rural.

Another pause, and Jamie took a casual drink of her coffee as the girl considered her answer. From the corner of her eyes, she followed the debate written clearly on Rogue's face, how much to tell, how much not to. What was safe and what wasn't.

"Mississippi."

Jamie nodded.

"I lived in Canton when I was younger, sugar," she said, and Rogue's lips twitched. "Southern girl--always have good manners. I've always noticed it." Putting down the empty coffee cup, Jamie stood up, deciding this would have to be done in stages--even better if she could get Logan in the room at the same time. Jamie guessed that Rogue would be more amenable to questioning if she thought Logan wanted the answers as well--gratitude was a strong motivator. As she rose to rummage through the refrigerator, she smiled to herself when the girl quickly finished up her cereal, putting the bowl in the dishwasher.

"Can I help?"

Pride. She hid her smile and nodded.

"Sure you can."

* * * * *

Rogue was wondering around outside after breakfast--still utterly amazed by the amount of snow, it seemed. Jamie, taking her coffee, slipped down on the couch, watching Logan watch Rogue through the window.

Interesting.

"I'm leaving in a few minutes to go into Calgary. You need to talk to her."

Logan grunted something and Jamie took a sip.

"Why'd you pick her up?" He spun around, unreadable eyes--Logan was familiar, had been for over a decade, but that didn't make it any easier to understand him--well, in this case at least. "No screwing with me now--this ain't somethin' you do, no question, honey."

"I've picked up hitchhikers."

"Not many you'd drag across the better part of Alberta in a stolen car. And certainly none you didn't screw later--not that they were unwilling--you tend to attract that type." A raise of his eyebrows, admitting nothing. "I saw the marks on the car door this morning--broken lock. You gonna explain or let me speculate? If I'm gonna keep her, I need to know a few things."

"It's not any of your business."

Jamie cradled the cup in her palm, blowing softly at the steam. Very defensive.

"She's a runaway. A mutant. And a kid. That's three points of business for me. I cut ya some slack last night, but you gotta give me some answers."

"Your job meant risk. Don't screw around, Jamie--if you don't want her here, I'll take her with me."

"And do what with her?"

Logan's jaw clenched--she'd bet he'd spent the better part of the morning thinking this through. Unfamiliar territory indeed.

"I can take care of her."

A soft sigh. Jamie was rather curious what he would actually do with her--drop her in random motels while he went out and fought? There was nothing about his attitude that made her think he'd leave her at a bus stop somewhere with money and a growl--though she wasn't going to test that theory either, not when she watched the girl throw a snowball at a nearby tree, heard a delighted rippling laugh from outside that caught Logan's attention again, jerking his gaze back outside.

"You're thinking long term, aren't ya, Logan?"

Logan growled something, and Jamie stood up, watching Marie wandering around the snow, staring into the distance, gloved hands tucked into her cloak. It was bothering him--she'd never seen him in their decade acquaintance so utterly off-balance, and it was all wrapped up in that girl standing outside, almost perfectly still, as if she was aware she was being watched. Hell, she could be--those dark eyes didn't miss much, Jamie thought.

"No." He was fighting it, hard, the entire idea of it, even though Jamie knew some part of him had pretty much accepted that the presence of the seventeen year old in his life was somewhat permanent. "Temporary. Just until--"

"Until what? You can't drop her at a bus station with a twenty and tell her to figure it out on her own, Logan. When you picked her up, you knew it wasn't for a ride to the nearest city. Don't try to deny it. Look at me." Hazel eyes flickered to hers--sometimes human eyes, sometimes not. Definitely not completely human right now.

"She's a kid and she's alone--"

"And she's a mutant."

"I could smell it on her in the bar." A tightening of the muscles in his jaw. "She was watching me fight--I recognized her scent in the cage."

"And she still hitchhiked with you? I'm impressed with her courage, if not her good sense."

The very slightest relaxation of his jaw.

"Yeah." Quiet.

It was speculation on Jamie's part, meandering through all Logan's possible motives--getting the girl horizontal, skin problem or no, wasn't high on the list, though she wasn't dismissing it completely. Logan hated to be tied by anything--hated the world in general, people in particular, and everything as a rule she'd never seen broken. Exception being Jamie herself, and she suspected that was pure random chance that'd he'd kept even minimal contact for as long as he did.

On some level, Jamie suspected he identified with her. And she bet dollars to donuts that he identified with the little girl playing outside under his eyes.

Here was Rogue. Normal enough girl, mutant or not--and Logan had brought her here--asked for help, which really was enough to shock Jamie, no matter the provocation.

Outside, she watched the girl turn in a slow circle, cloak flaring around her, gloved hand coming out to catch the snow as it fell, a sudden smile lighting up her face, changing it completely. Jamie realized she'd caught her breath at the look on Rogue's face.

Then dark eyes fixed on the window, and even though Jamie knew Rogue couldn't see them watching her--the girl knew they were there. Logan anyway. That smile was all for him.

* * * * *

Marie watched Jamie drive away, the woman tossing her a wave before the truck disappeared.

And frowned.

God, she liked it here--the quiet, the isolation--no people to worry about, no need to be constantly on guard and scared someone would try to touch her, no questions or sidelong glances at her gloves and scarf--no suspicion, which had been pretty common in the east US, where the whole mutant situation was very much on people's minds.

She hadn't been this relaxed since Cody had kissed her and her life ended.

"Hey kid."

Marie spun around, looking up in surprise as Logan walked up behind her. Distinctly uncomfortable, gloved hands shoved in his jacket, looking at anything but her. She stared up at him, knowing she was staring, unable to really help it, even though it really was very rude and she knew better than that.

"Yeah?"

Different images of him--the man in the cage, having a damned good time kicking the ass of the other guy--the man letting her ride in his camper--the man dragging her across what seemed like miles of road that she barely remembered--the man this morning that she couldn't stop staring at.

God, she owed him a lot, and had no idea how the hell she was supposed to pay him back.

"You're gonna get too cold. Come inside." Without ceremony, he got hold of her elbow, pulling her along--and shock made her follow. Once in the door, she stripped her cloak, hanging it to dry over the concrete in the small foyer, and followed him mutely into the living room.

Then Logan pointed her toward a seat and she took it. Mystified.

"You're gonna stay here for awhile." It was dropped in her lap like a stone, and he let out a breath when he did it. She suspected it was relief.

Marie blinked.

"Huh?" Usually, you didn't have what you wanted thrown at you like that. So she'd misheard--wouldn't be the first time.

He left his jacket on a chair as he paced to the center of the living room, and she took in the dark sweater, the scowl--the cigar he pulled out, biting off the tip and looking utterly out of his depth. A great deal more human, less frightening, more intriguing, ripping her fascinated gaze from him to stare at his knuckles, wondering how it felt to have that metal slide out.

He said it hurt every time.

"Jamie. You'll stay with Jamie."

Two blinks, then Marie began to stand up. A glower, and Marie sat right back down, sinking into the soft brown cushions. Her mouth opened, shut, opened again, and finally words came, fast and hard and so mixed up she wasn't sure what she was even saying.

"I--you can take me to Calgary--I'll get a ride--"

"You don't have any money, any family--where the fuck are you going, anyway?"

"Anchorage."

He lit the cigar--was his hand shaky?--and turned that glower on her again.

"And do what?"

Getting there was the goal. What she'd do after was a mystery. It wasn't like she could just go for any job--in fact, thinking it over, which she now had the leisure to do, not desperately looking for food, shelter, clothing, another pair of gloves--it was beginning to be a point of debate. And Marie, while never having been accused of being the most practical person on earth, woke up to the fact that she had absolutely no idea.

But she'd be damned if she'd agree--she didn't want pity, no matter how perfectly, dizzyingly wrapped. Apparently, he took her silence as agreement, though.

"Exactly. Nothing. You go there, you'll probably freeze or starve to death--hell, you don't even have the clothes to survive the weather. And I've been there, kid, I know what I'm talking about."

"I can take care of myself." She'd done it so far pretty well, actually. Though the luxury of sitting in a warm room was beginning to make her doubt herself--she was attached to the shower. "I don't need someone to take care of me."

"Too damned bad. Live with it."

Oh. Marie looked up at him--he'd come to a decision about her life for her. She got the feeling he was used to making decisions.

"No."

To her surprise, the glower didn't increase. Instead, he put down the cigar and dropped into the chair to her left. Watching her. Maybe a little amused, she couldn't be sure, and that made her wary.

"Tell me what you'll do in Anchorage, assuming someone can get you there."

Marie set her feet firmly on the floor and looked straight at him, keeping her gaze steady. Clasped her hands, hoping he didn't see them shaking.

"I'll find a shelter, have them help me get a job."

A job. That made her a little dizzy, grounded her in more reality than she wanted to admit to. A job, a life--what kind of life would she have as a mutant anyway? Freezing to death, starvation--those had grown steadily more likely before she'd arrived in Laughlin.

"When you can kill with a touch, you're underage, and you're a mutant." Ouch. "Think about it. You even have ID? Not to mention that great mutant registration thing goin' on--that'll make it easy for you to find employment and somewhere to live."

"I can take care of myself." As if repetition would make it more true.

"Until you accidentally touch someone and their family strings you up in the nearest tree for murder. Or a few other options for the lynching of mutants--you grew up in the South and I've been there. I think your head can tell you what people'll do to you if they catch you, darlin'."

"I'm not staying here." But God, she wanted to. Wanted it so badly she could taste it, and knew he could read it in her face.

"Then your other choice is to go with me."

That wasn't what she expected him to say. Marie frowned.

"I could run from you."

"You couldn't get three miles before I'd find you." A ghost of a grin. "Good sense of smell *and* claws, darlin'."

"You can't watch me always."

"I could handcuff you to a bed--and the places I stay at don't really notice screaming." His voice was thoughtful--as if he'd thought it through or something. Hell, he might have, and a little smile, almost indistinguishable from a frown, was turning up the corner of his mouth. He *was* enjoying this. Marie sat back, staring at him in wonder.

"Why do you care?"

A shrug, and she knew she wouldn't get a damned thing out of him on that score. Tried again.

"I won't--"

"Make you a deal." Logan leaned back--yes, he was enjoying this a little, she thought, and it was confusing the hell out of her. "Give me six months to figure out why that bastard attacked us. Then I'll take you to Anchorage myself. Maybe even stay just to watch you get yourself hung in a tree. Sound good?"

"I don't--"

"I don't care. Give me your word you'll stay and not get Jamie into trouble--it's the least you can do, considering I did save your life."

And he was right about that.

"I don't have any way to pay--"

"We'll figure it out later. Promise me. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and trust your word--if you run, Jamie'll have to go after you and you could put her in danger--whoever that guy was, he's probably still lookin'." Then a pause. "Look, under normal circumstances, I'd leave you in the nearest town and forget you ever existed. But I'm not too fond of someone tryin' to blow me up. So I got some people to talk to and figure out what the hell it is that guy wanted. So do this, consider it payback. And we're even."

Marie left out a breath. Stared at him

"Jamie--"

"Jamie's fine with it."

"But--"

"Promise." And he wasn't even trying to be threatening now, just utterly himself. Which was enough. "Now."

A little dazed, Marie nodded, swallowing in a dry throat before attempting to speak.

"I promise."

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