Jen's
comments on Draft 1 are in blue, Meg's
comments on Draft 1 are in pink, italicized bits are Vic's
comments in the original draft and italicized
blue bits are Vic's responses to others' comments:
>
Off the Corner
> Logan unlocked the door to the dingy apartment he was renting
on the
> Lower East Side. His client -- [Vic here: should it be his
employer?
I'd
say client since he is hired per job.
>
He's a freelance assassin.] -- had booked a room for him
at the St.
> Pierre, all expenses paid, but that was too public, too easy
to trace.
> He hired a homeless guy to check in as Mr. Logan and live on
room
Suggest
"Logan hired," so simple minds like mine won't get confused.
>
service and champagne while he rented out an old cold-water flat
by the
> week -- in cash. Not traceable.
Under
an assumed name I gather.
> Rogue took in the two rooms, which were strewn
with the few clothes he
suggest:
what few clothes
>
owned, empty pizza boxes, fast food wrappers and beer cans. "Suddenly,
> my life doesn't look so bad," she muttered, picking her
way through the
> mess to the couch.
Hey!
That's how I clean house too.
> He stood in the doorway, realizing what it looked like through
her eyes.
> "Hey, I can still get you a room --"
>
> She looked back at him, eyes wide, scared. "No, no. It's
-- cozy."
>
> "Cozy?"
>
> "Cozy," she affirmed, pushing some junk onto the
floor and settling on
> the couch. "I kinda like it."
>
> He felt the goofy grin spread across his face before he could
stop it.
> He didn't let it linger, though. He was the Wolverine. He was
a badass.
> He wasn't at all nervous and happy because he had an eighteen-year-old
> hooker in his living room.
>
> "I'm gonna take a shower," he said, jerking his head
toward the
> bathroom. "I'll be right out."
>
> She nodded, already absorbed in one of the newspapers lying
on the
> couch.
Absorbed
makes me laugh. Sounds like she was a wet puddle...
> He shucked his clothes and stood under the hot
spray gratefully. He felt
Not
stood gratefully under ?
>
dirty, which was kind of funny, considering what he did for a living.
> But just hearing that dickwad call Marie names made him sick;
it made
> him think of the times he'd used her, paid her for sex. Was
he really
> any better than the pimp?
No.
Oh, you weren't asking me.
>
His thoughts were interrupted when she yanked back the shower curtain
> and stepped into the tub with him.
>
> "Marie!"
>
> "Lean back," she murmured, pushing him against the
tiling. He noticed
> that even though she'd removed her boots, she'd kept her latex
suit and
> stockings on. And she'd reapplied her lipstick. She pressed
those
> wine-dark lips to the sensitive spot just below his ear and
then dragged
> them down his neck and chest, leaving a waxy trail behind.
She stroked
> his cock with a sure hand as she pulled the condom out of her
cleavage.
Gloves
and something on her lips? I'm thinking Revlon Stay-put ain't gonna
-protect her.
She's still got the gloves on and the lipstick - I think a couple of layers of lipstick on top of concealer would work for short kisses - got the idea from a couple other fics.
IF she used some of that stuff they use for stage make-up, MAC Pro and grease paint underneath, maybe.
I'm not going to go into it, but think of it as a very waxy, heavy makeup that coats the skin, allowing some contact before it gets smeared off.
>
"Marie, what are you doing?" he choked out.
>
> "What's it look like, sugar?" she drawled as she
rolled the condom onto
> his hard length.
Look
or feel like?
Well, I guess feel like, but would she say that?
*I actually prefer this as
written – ‘what’s it look like’ is an expression. You could use
‘look’ or ‘feel’ for a *literal* meaning, but ‘look’ works fine
here, IMO.
That's what I thought. Okay.
I'm going with Meg on this one.
>
"You don't -- we don't --" he sputtered, blinking and
trying to regain his focus as her mouth engulfed him.
>
> She stopped and he almost cried out at the loss of her warmth.
"That's
> what you like, right?" she asked softly, her eyes dark
with things he
> couldn't identify. No fear -- just gratitude, trust, and was
that
She
has specks in her eyes?
Emotions?
>
desire? He nodded dumbly, but then shook his head.
>
> "No, not like this," he said, his voice rough. He
didn't want her to
> fuck him out of gratitude. But he did want to fuck her.
>
> She apparently didn't get it, because she swung them around
-- he moved
> unresistingly -- and wrapped one leg around his waist, bringing
her
> groin into contact with his. He gasped as he felt the metal
of a zipper
> brush against the sensitive head of his penis, and then he
grabbed her
> hips and pushed her up the wall, taking her other leg and pulling
it
> around his hip. Her hands were already between them, one back
to
> stroking him while the other unzipped the suit and let the
full, rich
him,
while
>
scent of her arousal loose inside the steamy shower. He swallowed
> convulsively, breathing it in.
>
> He was poised at her entrance when he said, "We shouldn't--
You don't
> have to--"
>
> "I want to," she whispered, guiding him into her
wet heat and dropping
I
thought she was against the wall. Maybe to the side?
>
her head back. He leaned in to nuzzle her neck and she snapped to
> attention. "Be careful!" she hissed. "My skin
--" He figured it was hard
> for her to form coherent sentences. God knows, he could barely
> understand a word she was saying, so submerged in the rhythm
their
> bodies were creating was he. "My skin is dangerous,"
she said.
>
> "Okay," he replied,
*Iffen
you want, you could emphasize his condition here – make it
‘he groaned’ or ‘he managed’ or ‘he whispered’
or something.
and
then the time for conversation was past. He
> buried his face against her hair, where it appeared to be safe,
and
> reveled in the feel of her gloved hands scraping down his back
and her
Aha!
She did keep the gloves on... heh
>
heels digging in to the backs of his thighs as he thrust into her
while
> the hot water poured over them.
space
>
"Logan," she whimpered, her voice thready. He could feel
how close she
> was to coming; he could smell it. "Logan, please. Logan!"
she moaned and
> then she made these little noises in the back of her throat
as she
> climaxed. He thought it was the sexiest thing he'd ever heard.
*Suggest
striking ‘he thought’; seems too much like he’s actually
*thinking* at this stage. And you don’t need to qualify it,
IMO. It can be the sexiest thing he’s ever heard.
Okay
> He grunted and growled and cried out her named
as he finished thrusting
*
“name”, which you probably know.
> into her and shuddering with his release. "Oh, baby, fuck,
Marie," he
> muttered when he could speak again.
>
> She trailed a gloved hand down his chest as she untangled herself
from
> him. "Thank you," she said, in the same sweet voice
she'd thanked him
> for dinner.
>
> Then she stepped over the edge of the tub and was gone.
>
> He stood under the water until it got cold, wondering what
she was
> thinking, and what he should do next. He hoped that what they'd
just
> done wasn't some sort of payment, or a mistake, because it
was damn near
> the best sex of his life, and he'd had plenty -- that he could
remember.
>
> He braced an arm against the wall and leaned on it after he
turned off
> the water. He tried to think of something to say when he went
out into
> the other room.
Got
a cigarette?
Not gonna cover that conversation. At first I was going to have
him impale her that night, but that's telescoping things too much,
I think. So the Xavier-Scott convo, then the next morning, and then
*that* night he impales her and heals her and the Sabretooth and
the X-Men show up and wreck the joint. End of story, I think.
*Nice,
Vic. Good sex, as always!
Thanks, hon.
> ***
> Scott waited patiently as Professor Xavier finished
up his phone call.
Drop
the up.
>
The professor had called him into the office for a reason, and Scott
had
> a feeling it had something to do with the fact that Magneto's
associates
> had been spotted a few days ago in Toronto.
>
> Xavier put the phone down and looked at his surrogate son.
"Sabretooth
> is in New York. Mystique is with him." He steepled his
fingers and
> sighed. "I'm afraid they are looking for the girl, Rogue."
>
> Scott looked up, startled. "Rogue?" He remembered
the thin, scared girl
> whose life he'd saved at the Statue of Liberty.
Suggest striking ‘He remembered’
– the rest of it tells us that it’s his memory, and ‘He
remembered’ sounds kind of like an action. Like he’s doing
it on purpose. (I know he’s not.)
But
then how can I get it in there that he's the one who saved her at
the SoL?
*I
just mean those two words, and that's only a tiny nit, anyway. Keep
the rest of the sentence.
But
then it doesn't make sense. "'Rogue?' The thin, scared girl
whose life he'd saved at the SoL. <snip the lengthy discussion
in which Meg and Vic misunderstand each other> I'm just gonna
stick with "He remembered."
*I
figured you would.
>
"Yes. She remained in Manhattan after she left us. I've been
keeping
> tabs on her."
>
> "What-- Why--"
>
> "She may not have wanted to stay here, Scott, but since
we failed her so
> grievously, I felt the least I could do was watch over her.
She's not
> had an easy time of it."
>
> "No," Scott murmured, thinking of his own inability
to control his gift,
> and how bad it must be to never be able to touch.
>
> "She's currently in the company of another mutant. His
name is Logan.
> His thoughts are very confused, but I think he may be the Wolverine
> we've all heard whispers about."
>
> Scott raised an eyebrow. "I thought Wolverine was a legend,
a story to
> scare children and keep mutants in line. I mean, a beast-man
with
> razor-sharp metal claws? What kind of mutation is that?"
>
> "He exists, Scott, and he's with Rogue. I fear that the
metal claws are
> the result of experimentation."
>
> "But how -- who would do such a thing?"
>
> Xavier sighed. "I don't know. I will keep an eye on the
situation,
> Scott. You should keep the team on alert, in case Rogue needs
rescuing
> again."
>
> Scott smiled grimly. "Of course. I'd like to avoid the
mistakes we made
> at Liberty Island. And get rid of Sabretooth."
>
> The professor nodded. "It was not your fault she was hurt,
Scott. And we
> did save her life."
>
> Scott laughed bitterly. "After what they did to her, I'm
not so sure she
> should thank us for that."
>
> ***
>
> Logan took a deep breath and swung the bathroom door open.
Marie was
> curled up on the couch, staring off into space.
>
> "Hey." He spoke softly, not wanting to startle her.
She jumped anyway.
>
> "Hey, yourself." She swallowed and sat up, and he
could see the mask
> slipping into place as she schooled her features to friendly
> disinterest.
>
> He sighed internally. He wanted her to be comfortable and he
had a
> feeling that fucking her was not the smartest thing he could
have done.
Freakin’ genius!
>
He knew she enjoyed it -- wanted it, even -- but still, he didn't
want
> her out of some misplaced sense of gratitude or pride. The
next time
> they had sex, he promised himself, it would be on equal terms.
She would
> come to him through her own choice, not because he'd taken
her in when
> she had nowhere to go. He decided that casual would be the
way to go for
> now.
>
> "You need a shower?"
>
> Her lips turned upward slightly, a hint of a smile. "Do
you think I need
> a shower?"
>
> <Shit.> "That's not, that's not what I meant. I
just thought you might
> like to, you know, clean up."
>
> She thought about that for a second and then nodded. "Okay."
>
> He reached into the closet, pulled out a towel and handed it
to her as
> she brushed past him into the bathroom. "I'll find something
for you to
> wear."
>
> "Okay."
>
> She shut the door and he looked at the clothing scattered in
the room.
> He grabbed a sweatshirt and wrinkled his nose. Needed to be
washed.
> Where was the laundry bag? He'd done laundry the other day.
He found it,
Maybe
switch those two sentences around?
>
empty except for a couple pairs of boxer shorts he rarely wore,
> sweatpants, and an olive green t-shirt. That would do.
>
> He heard the water running so he opened it without knocking.
He said,
Oh, there’s a good habit!
running,
so
okay. And also, opened the door, no?
>
"I'll leave the clothes on the towel rack--" his voice
died away as he
> got a good look at her. She wasn't in the shower yet; she stood
facing
> the mirror on the medicine chest and turned at the sound of
his voice.
> Her back was crisscrossed in scars like the ones on her face
and there
> were others running along her belly and thighs. "Fuck,
Marie."
Eek.
>
Her arms flew to her chest in an attempt to cover herself. "I'll
go
> now," she said dully, reaching for her rubber suit.
>
> "God, kid, no. Just --" He shook his head, unable
to think of what to
> say, knowing that nothing he said could make it better. "C'mere."
> Remembering what she'd said about her skin, he held the shirt
in one
> hand and the shorts in the other and pulled her into a hug.
He rested
> his chin on her head and said, "I'm not gonna make you
leave. I said I'd
> take care of you, and I meant it."
>
> She sniffed. "I, I don't know what to say."
>
> "Then don't say anything," he replied, his voice
gentle. "Take a shower,
> get dressed, and then we'll talk. Okay?"
>
> She swallowed hard. "Okay."
>
> He sat in the living room, trying to figure out what he could
do to help
> her. He'd already stopped wondering about *why* he wanted to
help her --
> he'd accepted her into his life and he wasn't letting her go.
That was
> the end of it. And when she finally spilled the name of the
bastard
> who'd fucked her up like that, well, the world would be short
one evil
> cocksucker. Logan doubted anyone would miss him.
>
> He heard the water being shut off, and in a few minutes she
came out of
> the bathroom wearing the boxers and t-shirt, wet hair hanging
down her
> back and dirty clothing in her hand.
>
> "Better?" he asked.
>
> Again, the half-smile. "Much. You don't know how warm
one of these
> things gets," she said, holding the suit up. He noticed
she'd put her
> gloves back on, though they had to be wet from her time in
the shower
> with him. She plucked at the boxer shorts. "I think I
need something
> that gives a little more coverage, though." He patted
the cushion next
> to him, but she remained standing. "I told you, my skin
is dangerous.
> Bad things happen when people touch it."
>
> "Like what?" He wondered how come nothing bad had
happened to the
> asshole who'd shredded her.
>
> "I suck out their energy and their memories," she
said softly. He
> blinked. "Yeah, freaky, huh?" He patted the sofa
again. "Are you sure?
> Most people don't want to get too close."
>
> "I wouldn't ask if I wasn't sure, kid," he rumbled.
"I got gloves around
> here somewhere." He bent down and shuffled through some
of the clothes
He's
standing now? Maybe leaned over if not.
Okay, yeah, he leans over from a sitting position.
>
he'd piled on the floor. Then he remembered. "You see that
black duffel
> bag over by the TV?" She nodded. "Bring it here."
>
> She did as he asked. The bag was heavier than it looked. "What
the hell
> do you have in here?" she asked, dropping it with a thump
on the couch
> next to him.
>
> "Tools of the trade," he responded mysteriously,
unzipping the bag and
> digging through it.
>
> "And what do you do, Logan?" she asked, her voice
teasing.
>
> He liked that she could tease him. No one else ever had. He
wouldn't
> have let anyone else get away with it. "I'm the best at
what I do,
> Marie, but what I do isn't very nice," he answered, not
wanting to tell
> her right away. As professions went, assassin wasn't much higher
up on
> the social scale than hooker. He found his favorite pair of
black
> leather gloves and pulled them on. "All right now,"
he said, deftly
> changing the subject, "I've got gloves on, so you can
take those wet
> ones off."
>
> "But--"
>
> "Off," he commanded.
>
> "Yes, sir!" she snapped, with a mock salute.
>
> He grinned and pushed the bag onto the floor. "Now, sit
down." He
> thought about asking for her story again, but turned on the
television
> instead. They had time.
>
> When she fell asleep, he carried her to the bed and tucked
her in
> tenderly, surprising even himself with the depth of emotions
he felt.
> <Is this love?> he wondered, sliding into the bed behind
her and
> wrapping her in his warmth.
>
***
Here's the next bits of Hooker!Rogue. Does the impaling work?
How about the après sex conversation? I originally had him quizzing
her about her background, but I didn't like how that was going.
After this, he's going to wake up all weakened, and Sabretooth is
going to bust down his door. Scott and Storm will save them, and
they'll agree to go to Xavier's. That'll be the end of this installment,
I think. Questions? Comments? Brilliant perceptions? It's share
time boys and girls. This one didn't come easy except for the Scott-Xavier
conversation, so I need your help.
> // He could smell the champagne mixed in with the blood. His
blood. He
> wanted nothing more than to move, but he couldn't. He could
only watch
> helplessly as they cut into him, the scalpels sliding easily
through his
> flesh, cutting all the way to the bone. //
>
> He tossed and groaned, awakening the young woman sleeping in
the circle
> of his arms. She turned to face him.
>
> "Logan," she whispered, "wake up." He didn't
respond. His thrashing only
> got worse.
>
> //They were laughing. He could hear them laughing as he tried
to scream
> in agony, only to be thwarted by the tubes shoved down his
throat. He
> was going to kill every last one of them. He'd make them regret
they'd
> ever been born. They called his name and he cursed them.//
The dreams work well. Is good,
Vicificus.
> "Logan," Marie said, a little louder, leaning over
to reach out a
> tentative hand and touch his shoulder.
>
> Faster than she'd have thought possible, he bolted upright,
she felt
> something warm and cold at the same time slide through her
body. His
> eyes were open but unseeing.
>
> "Logan," she said again, unable to move.
>
> Suddenly, he realized what he'd done. "Oh, God, no! Marie!"
He retracted
> the claws just as quickly, and she fell back. He slid an arm
around her
> and whispered, "Hold on, kid. Hold on," as he fumbled
for the phone.
>
> "I'm sorry," she whispered, seeing the horror in
his eyes as she reached
> a bare hand toward his face.
>
> "Marie," he groaned as her skin met his. He marveled
in the feel of her
> soft, warm hand against his cheek. He pressed his lips to it,
savoring
> the taste and smell of her before he became aware of a strange
pull.
> Then he felt himself -- everything that made him Logan -- thoughts,
> memories, quirks -- flowing out of himself and into her.
Two
himself's?
Arrgh. "...flowing into her"
>
She gasped as she felt his strength course through her, healing
her
> wounds. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "It was
an accident."
>
> Then everything went dark.
Sounds good to me, Vic.
***
> Here's the aftermath of the impaling, working up toward
the fight with
> Sabretooth, which is next.
>
> I'm still not sure about a couple of things [like did she really
absorb
> a bit from both Jean and Scott, or should it be just one? And
if it's
> just one, I'm feeling compelled to make it Scott for some unknown,
but
> perhaps pertinent later on, reason] but I figure the sooner
I get this
> out to you, the sooner I'll get it back...
Both
I'd say, but only a little of Jean. More of Scott, because he brought
her down to Jean who maybe bumped into them while putting on her
medical
gloves?
Okay. That works. Because they don't really know how her mutation works when they save her, so Scott grabs her and then Jean accidentally brushes against her.
>
So after this, Sabretooth comes in, angry and wanting to kill Rogue.
> Scott and Storm show up and save them. I think it will end
with Logan
> and Marie huddled together in the back of the X-Jeep, deciding
to stick
> together no matter what.
>
> Also, I'm trying very hard to stick with a Logan POV only,
but I may
> have slipped in a couple of Marie-thoughts, so let me know
if that's
> working.
>
> <insert usual thanks here>
>
> victoria
>
> ***
>
> The first thing he noticed was the scent. It was good. He liked
it a
> lot. It was the girl's fragrance -- Marie. Her name was Marie.
And it
> was mixed with his. There was salt, as well. He felt the wetness
--
> tears.
>
> "Marie?" he asked, his voice rusty from disuse, opening
his eyes slowly.
>
> "I'm right here." He felt rather than heard her words,
her breath soft
> against his ear. She was behind him, her arms wrapped around
his chest.
> She was wearing the sweatshirt he'd picked up earlier, as well
as her
> gloves. "Are you all right? I'm so sorry."
>
> He turned over to look at her. "I'm the one who's --"
his words died on
> his lips as he took in her appearance. "Marie?" he
reached out and
> cupped her cheek, not even really aware that he still had the
gloves on,
> not caring if he didn't. "You're so beautiful," he
whispered, running
> his thumb over her lips as his fingers traced the newly-healed
skin of
> her face. "The scars?"
Isn't
he more surprised?
Hmm... ""Marie?" He closed his eyes and reopened them, unable
to take in the sudden change in her appearance at first. He reached
out and cupped her cheek..."
*I
like that, Vic.
> She licked her lips and swallowed. "They're all gone.
You, you healed
> me, Logan. All of me." She placed her hand over his and
turned her face
> into his palm, placing a gentle kiss on the leather. "I'm
so sorry. I
> just wanted to touch you once before I died. I didn't think
it would
> hurt you." He felt tears splash on his hand and his arm.
"I never meant
> to hurt you."
Drop
the hand -- he has gloves on.
> He wrapped an arm around her as his right hand continued to
stroke her
> face. "You didn't hurt me, Marie. You, you saved me as
well. I--" He
> didn't have the words for it. His empty existence, the living
from
> day-to-day that he'd been doing for the past fifteen years
had never
> brought him peace or happiness. He woke every morning and tried
to kill
> himself, and cursed God and the doctors who'd cut him open
as he watched
> himself heal. It was almost funny. At first, he'd gone to great
lengths
Funny
-- but not ironic?
Both, but he's being macabre.
>
to die, but over the years he'd settled for cutting open a couple
of
> veins and seeing if he'd heal before the blood-loss killed
him.
>
> But now, now that he'd seen death -- stared it in the face,
because he
> had no doubt this slip of a girl could have killed him if she'd
held on
> too long -- he didn't want it anymore. He wanted to live. More
> specifically, he wanted to live with Marie.
He
hadn't seen it before?
Yeah, but never his own. Maybe capitalize it Death - as in he'd
run into something that he wouldn't heal from?
> "I know," she answered, breaking into his reverie.
"You're up here." She
> tapped the side of her head.
>
> "Ah, shit, kid. I'm sorry."
>
> "No. No." She shook her head for emphasis. "I
like it. You, you fit. We
> fit. It's not like the others." His ears perked at that,
though she
> didn't notice. "You're not fighting me -- you're helping
me."
Nice
description.
They
aren't helpful?
Not
much of them up there. Hmm... maybe I'll cut that out altogether
and make it Mystique.
> "Others?"
>
> She bit her lip at the slip. "Um, one or two. Mistakes."
She pulled away
> and stood, wrapping her arms around herself. "The first
boy I ever
> kissed was in a coma for three weeks. And, and--"
>
> "The bastard who hurt you," he prompted.
>
> "No. He used a knife or his claws. He never touched me.
But Magneto--"
> she broke off. "This man who wanted to use my skin --
he touched me. And
> then the doctor -- you'd like her, she's a redhead -- she helped
me, but
> she brushed against me accidentally. And her fiancé,
when he saved my
> life..."
>
"You got a real party goin' on up there, huh?"
>
> That won him a watery chuckle. "Kinda."
>
> He nodded toward the bed. "Get back in here, Marie. I'll
feel much
> better if you're next to me."
>
> She shook her head. "Logan, I don't want to hurt you again."
>
> "Jesus, kid, I put three metal blades through your chest.
I'm --" he
> fumbled for the words, "stunned that you stuck around
long enough to put
> some more clothes on. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm the dangerous
one."
> It was sinking in -- the fact that he'd almost killed her.
"It's what I
> am, Marie, what I do," he said in a low, harsh voice.
"I'm a killer."
>
> "No, Logan. No." She denied it vehemently. "You
saved me."
>
> "If I didn't have these things," *snikt*, "I
wouldn't have had to." He
> retracted the claws and put his head in his hands. "*I*
don't want to
> hurt *you* again."
Maybe
ever again?
> That brought her back to the bed. She put an arm around his
shoulders
> and stroked the back of his neck. "It's not your fault.
You didn't *ask*
> for them." He waggled his head, not committing to yes
or no. "We're a
> fine pair," she said, laughing a little.
>
> "We certainly are," he replied, his own mouth starting
to quirk into a
> grin. "Sleep now?"
>
> She nodded. "Okay."
>
> They rearranged themselves in the bed. Marie pressed herself
to Logan's
> back, wrapping her arms around his chest, so that if he accidentally
> extended the claws while he was sleeping, she'd be safe.
Maybe
“extended his claws”?
>
He lay awake, enjoying the feel of her against him, listening to
her
> even breathing. Their conversation had drained what little
energy he'd
> recovered, but he didn't want her to know how weak he really
was. He was
> afraid -- yes, he, the Wolverine -- was afraid that she'd leave
and
> never come back if she thought she'd hurt him, and he decided
that he
> needed her, and she him, and they'd work out the details later.
MUSH
Yeah, but it gets interrupted by violence, so it's okay.
> ***
>
> His eyes drifted shut and he began to lose himself in the warmth
of
> sleep when he smelled it.
Do
you want to emphasise the "itness"?
Hmm... Like "he smelled it. Something strange -- something dangerous"?
>
He struggled to get up, but he was still weak from healing Marie,
and he
> swayed on his feet. Her eyes opened as she heard the footsteps
swayed
unsteadily perhaps?
How else would you sway? Does it need modifying?
Well, one could sway for any number of reasons, but you want
to emphasise that Logan is off his game and not in prime condition. Hence the ease with
which ST (giggle) overtakes him.
I'll figure something out. I figure if he's swaying, he's already shown to be unsteady...
>
approached. He noticed her nostrils flare, and he wondered if she
had
Drop
the second "he" and wouldn't it be "acquired"
since he doesn't know
what she had gotten from him?
>
retained his acute senses. He popped the claws instinctively, ready
to
> defend her.
>
> "Sabretooth," she muttered, and then the door exploded
inward as a huge
> blond man crashed into the apartment.
>
> "Well look who it is!" the blond said with mock cheerfulness.
"The slut
Well,
look
>
and the runt, together. This is my lucky day!" And he lunged
at Logan,
> sending him flying into the wall.
Drop
the And.
> Both men tumbled to the ground. Sabretooth climbed on top of
Logan and
> began pounding his head into the floor. Logan reached up and
thrust his
> claws through the other man's shoulder. Sabretooth howled in
pain and
> Logan used that distraction to fling him off and get up.
How
about: Sabretooth howled in pain when Logan reached up and thrust
his
claws through the other man's shoulder. Logan used that distraction
to
fling him off and get up.
Ooh, much better. You're good at the fights, babe.
>
Marie stood behind them holding a knife she must have gotten from
his
> duffel bag. Logan took a fist to the stomach and another to
the jaw. He
Must
have? She did get it from the duffel bag. He'd know -- he'd recognize
it.
Maybe
managed to gasp (?)
> gasped, "Run, Marie!" before going
down again. Sabretooth turned his
> attention to the girl, who tried to keep him at bay with the
hunting
> knife.
>
> Logan couldn't believe how weak he still felt, and he'd be
damned if he
but (not and)
> let this bastard get hold of the girl again.
He forced his body upright,
> cracking the joints in his neck, and tackled the big blond
man. Marie
> jumped out of the way as the two men rolled across the floor.
Sabretooth
Maybe, and Sabretooth ...
> landed on top again. He managed to use his knees
to pin Logan's arms to
> his chest, making the claws unusable. Sabretooth smashed Logan's
head
> one last time into the floor. Confident that Logan was unconscious,
he
> grabbed Marie.
Still on Logan or did he jump
off? That would be kind of kinky.
Oops. He jumped off. Sorry, I don't like him enough to give him
a threesome with Logan and Marie. Scott, otoh...
> "You little bitch," he growled as she
swung the knife at him, opening a
when she swung
okay, but what's wrong with "as"?
>
cut along his forearm, that healed as she watched. "You think
what I did
> to you before was bad? You ain't seen nothin' yet. You owe
me." He
> ripped the knife from her grip and tossed it aside. He grabbed
her by
> the upper arms and flung her down on the bed, holding her down
with his
> legs. His hand moved between their bodies to undo the zipper
on his
> pants. "I bet the runt's got some rubbers stashed in here
someplace.
> Even he's not stupid enough to fuck you without 'em,"
Sabretooth
> muttered, reaching a hand over to the night table.
>
> Marie's eyes widened as she saw Scott Summers in the doorway,
in full
> X-Men regalia, with Storm behind him.
>
> "Rogue!" he called.
>
> Sabretooth jumped up, enraged that his fun had been interrupted.
Marie
> rolled off the floor and crawled to where Logan was passed
out.
She
rolled off (?) the floor? Can you do that?
dammit! It's supposed to be "rolled off the bed"
Then, you might want to add something about the mattress absorbing her weight or her bouncing or another gerund-y type of action when he throws her on to the bed.
Okay.
And I was thinking - maybe the fight should be the beginning of the next story? End this one with them drifting off to sleep together? I dunno.
I like that idea.
Thanks. That's what I'm thinking of doing. Just having the Scott-Xavier
scene as a tease, and have the next story [Welcome to Westchester
is the working title] deal with Logan's intro to all things X. And
you notice I have Sabes knowing who Logan is, though Logan doesn't
know him. That's quality foreshadowing, that is. <g>
> Scott's optic beam hit Sabretooth square in the
chest, sending him
> flying through the window into the night.
Okay -- so how's come he's
still alive -- cuz he heals fast?
Yeah.
>
"Rogue, are you all right?" Storm asked, rushing over
to where the girl
> knelt over Logan's body.
>
> "I'm fine. We need to help Logan--" she began, only
to be cut off by
> Scott's gasp.
>
> "Your face-- how did you--"
>
> "Not now! Logan needs help. He'd barely recovered from
touching me when
> Sabretooth showed up."
>
> "I'm all right, kid," Logan said groggily. "What
the hell's going on?"
>
> "Let's get out of here and we'll explain on the way,"
Scott said. Marie
> grabbed Logan's duffel as Storm and Scott helped the Canadian
to his
> feet.
>
> Marie hovered over Logan as they loaded him into the backseat
of the
> jeep. She got in beside him and pulled his head down into her
lap.
>
> "You just rest, sugar," she murmured. He wasn't about
to complain. He
> breathed in her scent contentedly, and decided to just follow
the night
> where it led. After all, that's how he'd ended up with Marie,
and he
> wasn't going to be separated from her now, not for anything.
>
> End
>
> ***
> Okay, it's a pretty crappy fight, and I doubt Logan would be
knocked out
> so easily, but it is right after he's been absorbed, so please
suspend
> your disbelief...
Consider
it suspended....
I
like it, Vic, and I don’t think the fight scene is lame at
all.
>
This was getting away from me, once they got the Westchester and
it
> seemed like it was never going to end, so I'm just sort of
ending it
> here. The next story can pick up with their arrival at the
mansion.
> Don't know where that's going to go. Them going to the mansion,
everyone
> disapproving of their relationship, that's basically all I
got in my
> head so far.
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