Sever stood in the dark kitchen of Mark's apartment and tried to understand why her database was incomplete
data, six years back, 19.00 hour
Access denied
It just wasn possible
Display data, six years back, 18,56 hour
Data displaying
Display data, six years back, 18,57 hour
Data displaying
Display data, six years back, 18,58 hour
Data displaying
Display data, six years back, 18,59 hour
Data displaying
Display data, six years back, 19.00 hour
Access denied
Display data, six years back, 19.01 hour
Access denied
Display data, six years back, 19.02 hour
Access denied
Display data, six years back, 19.03 hour
Access denied
Display data, six years back, 19.04 hour
Access denied
Display data, six years back, 19.05 hour
Access denied
Display data, six years back, 19.06 hour
Data displaying
Five minutes. What had happened during that time? Her memory was like data gathered on a hard drive. She could display every minute, second of it whenever she needed. She should be the only one with access to it. But now something was blocking her. It seemed that the 5 minutes were sealed with a kind of barrier, code that she simply didn't know.
Display data, six years back, 19:00 hour.
Access denied.
Copy data, six years back, 19:00 to 19:05 hour.
Access code required .
Sever shifted. Code?
Code bypass.
Intruder alert, means of defense enabled.
Sudden pain jerked Sever out of her concentration. As fast as it came, it was gone. She felt something moist on her face and reached to touch it.
Her fingertips were dark. Only after a moment did she realized it was blood. Her blood. She shifted her gaze to the dark, mirror-like window and studied her pale, nearly white face. And angry red blood dripping steadily from her nose.
How could she be an intruder, in her own mind?
But that wasn't the only gap in her mind. She had one more
There was another mystery as well. At first, when she was created, in her mind were written objectives - destroy by any means possible enemies pointed by anyone that could give her the appropriate code. Twelve years ago, after her first field test, her memory was blocked again. Five minutes. From 19:00 to 19:05 hour. After that her priorities changed.
No1: Find Remy LeBeau.
The second change occurred after the second memory gap - six years ago.
No1: Defend Remy LeBeau.
But this wasn't just a simple command. Every time she did something that involved LeBeau, she. FELT. Really felt emotions; anger, sadness, confusion. They were strong, and alien. She was aware that emotions were only effects of chemical reactions in the brain. But she had no "brain". Not one in which any reaction could take place. She was a machine a bio computer.
And the objective, "Defend" it was too imprecise to be a command. Defend from what? What was a threat, and what wasn't? In reality she shouldn't be able to understand the command at all. She should never be able to wake up from her rest without a command being given.
Her original programming assumed self-destruction in case her bio-computer evolved into something that allowed her to learn. A unit that can learn can not be controlled. And she learned. Just few hours ago she learned about hunger.
She shifted once again and looked at the window. Mike agreed to take her to Westchester. He said she should get some sleep but resting in horizontal position was unnatural for her.
* * *
Logan was out in time to see the shiny, black and yellow kawasuki ninja leave the grounds in a splash of gravel. Remy rode it with great mastery as usual, but today something was wrong. Maybe it was the terrible weather or maybe his emotional state but the unbelievably fast motorcycle took the turn swaying unsteadily and Logan cursed under his breath. That kid was going to kill himself!
* * *
Remy grinned wickedly feeling the bike gaining the speed of 60 mph in less than 2.3 seconds. The air whistled in his ears and he pushed the machine further. The engine between his legs roared and the light Japanese miracle jumped forward with breathtaking speed.
The gravel of the driveway covered with mud was too slippery and for a brief moment Remy had problems with keeping the machine steady.
The motorcycle swayed, wheels turning to fast lost its attachment to the ground and for a second Remy wasn't sure he would get out of this, but his reflex once again came in and he managed to steady the bike. Laughing out loud he forced the machine up to speed again. The narrow and shiny motorcycle cut through the stormy night with unbelievable ease. He took the gate at the speed of 90 mph and had to grip the handle bars more tightly because the speed took his breath away, especially when he knew that the bike could easily accelerate to 125 mph. The only thing that slowed him down was the weather. The rain poured so heavily that it was difficult to see anything further away than his nose, even with his night vision
The stretch to the gate he drove nearly on memory, neatly avoiding any obstacles. When he finally shot out on the solid road he forced his bike to speed up once more. At 105 mph he felt a wild surge of adrenaline in his veins, pushing all the other feeling away.
Riding with such a speed in weather that no one with common sense would leave the house, he felt free and on edge. He knew that one mistake, one careless movement, one small mistake could cost him his life.
His red on black eyes flashed with a madman's joy and he gripped the bike harder and took the hazard, a very narrow turn into the muddy, barely visible forest road. Only his mutant eyes allowed him to see anything. The trees seemed to jump from nowhere and forced him to do crazy convolutions to avoid crashing on one of them.
It took extreme concentration on his driving of the skittish bike to speed it up as much as it could go. It took him quite a long to realize that he was hearing something more than the whistling of air as the raindrops splashed on his face with the force of small bullets and the roaring of his elegant, speed demon machine. It was the sound of an engine of a powerful, classical monster that was coming up behind him. The low, deep and guttural sound allowed Remy to instantly recognising its owner.
Logan's bike - the classical Harley Davidson - was just like him big, heavy emanating with strength. The big bike could never accelerate as fast as his lean Kawasaki could, but the classical monster had better attachment to the ground. Maybe Logan needed to lessen the speed to take the narrow turn, but where Remy almost loose the ground- jumping on the unevenness Logan's Harley seemed to barely notice it at all and easily accelerated.
Both machines were totally different from each other but as they each took the difficult forest road they seem to be equals. When one gained advantage, other was weak and the other way around.
Although Logan was still far away, Remy could tell he was chasing him. Probably saw what happened in the kitchen. But Remy wasn't in the mood to talk. He bent lower over the handle bars and sped up a little more, not daring to check with what actual speed he was riding anymore.
* * *
Logan cursed colorfully hearing the maddeningly expensive bike roar and speed up significantly. That stupid Cajun really did want to kill himself! That stupid son of a bitch. he should leave him to it. He should just stand aside and watch how kid was doing everything that's possible to bust his head open on the nearest tree but couldn't. Because that was the problem everyone stood aside, no one really tried to help the kid after The Trial. Besides there was that strange, strong feeling that urged him to take care of that boy.
Last night he remembered more of the events of that fatal night. There was just one thing he couldn't possibly understand. If he became feral, why did he want the thief? Always, every time he went feral the only thing he wanted was blood. He was only partly human; his animal part trained in killing by Weapon X, often took the best of him. But then he was nothing more than a blood thirsty animal, a monster. It was strange that he didn't kill him in the first place and that he didn't hurt him more. Logan had questions that he suspected only Remy knew answers to.
But he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that in his need to find and to protect the young thief was something much more than the simple need for answers.
He cared.
Sure, he cared for others in the team - after all they were his friend, teammates. They fought side by side in many battles, but his feelings for the kid were completely different. He was afraid he was falling, falling for the beautiful big mouthed thief and he was doing it fast.
Standing in that kitchen door way and watching Storm giving Remy the cold shoulder, her anger and suspicious and the most important thing, her disappointment made him really want to step in and stand up for the kid. He felt a surge of anger so strong it thru him off balance. It was then that he stared wondering or realizing maybe, that his feeling were too strong. Even considering what happened he still was too interested in the kid.
Nothing could explain the hard on, that his smell was giving him. It was really embarrassing to react so strongly. and to do it towards a male. Logan wasn't homophobic or nothing. He had few encounters with men in his rather dark past but it never meant anything. Just one night stands. He tended to forget about them as soon as he left the bed. But now he just couldn't throw certain red eyed thief out of his mind.
Today he caught himself trying to catch a sound or a smell that could tell him something more about Remy. He realized that his friendship, the reason for never pushing the kid away after The Trial had an undertone to it. LeBeau wasn't just a drinking buddy, just a friend. He was a mystery to him.
Maybe Logan wasn't the most educated in the mansion and maybe he wasn't psychic, but he had his mind, his senses that often told him more than words and he surely knew how to observe people. No one was a mystery to him. He knew about emotional level of Charles- Eric relations, realized Scott sternness had something to do with the pain he often smelled on him, and faint scars he happened to see in the showers or the changing room. Storm's loneliness. Bobby's crush on Hank that started almost eight years ago. But he rarely knew the reasons for Remy to act in certain ways. The man, so much younger than him, often surprised him. He was just a mystery mine. Time and again he said or did something that showed him from completely different angle.
Logan heard the distant thunder and realized that Storm had probably calmed down some and was trying to ease the rainstorm. No matter how mad she was, he knew she would never put her teammates in danger.
Somewhere behind the sound of the raindrops splashing on leaves he heard the other bike taking a dangerously fast turn and realized he knew where the thief was heading. Baring his teeth he sped up and diverged from the forest road into the barely visible path made by wild animals.
Using his mutant reflexes and agility, he skidded past the trees and low bushes missing them by mere inches, determined to cut the thief off.
* * *
When the storm changed into downpour and then into simple rain Remy realized something was wrong. He was already used to hearing the constant, low growl of Logan's monster somewhere behind him when the sound changed. Suddenly the engine was in front of him, and was nearing!
It was only a matter of heartbeat when shiny, heavy bike jumped out of bushes right by his side. Surprised and more than a little terrified Remy tried frantically to keep the bike steady but when he thought he would get out of this in one piece he saw Logan's shining, nearly yellow eyes and grin baring his long canines. His wet hair fell on his forehead. He looked mad. And before Remy had even the time to think, Logan drove very close to him, pushing him out of path and with the result shove forced him to jump from his bike to avoid crashing.
He swiftly jumped into the air and landed gracefully on the ground, rolling to ease the force of impact. Although he couldn't see it he could hear the scratching of the metal as his bike skidded down the road and gritted his teeth in anger.
"What are you doin' Wolverine?! Tryin' to kill Gambit? You encule de mere!" He shouted as soon as he was able to take his breath. He didn't stop shouting but continued with curses about Logan's origin and his ancestory to about four generations back.
Logan watched the angry thief throwing every French and English curse at him, he could remember. The lean, graceful Cajun looked like a drowned cat, with his clothes dripping water and mud and some leaves and even a few pieces of grass too. His long, usually shiny hair was completely wet and dirty, hanging in complete disorder were his dark bangs.
Red eyes flashed and every once in awhile Remy had to stop his tirade to spit out some grass or stray leaf that he had somehow managed to swallow.
He looked very sexy and cute as hell.
"You connard! Stupid bastard!" Remy suddenly stopped. His empathy suddenly picked up a feeling that he never expected to come from the Wolverine, especially not in such a situation - amusement!
It pissed him off even further. How could that old, sick motherfucker be amused when he nearly killed him?
The temper took the best of him and the next thing Logan knew, he was lying on his back with a very beautiful, very wet, and very, very angry Cajun cat-like snarling at him, baring his teeth and straddling him.
"Remy will show you!"
It was all too much. Every thought about bringing some sense into the kid fled his mind and Logan couldn't help himself. He started laughing hysterically, trashing in an attempt to catch a breath and to escape. Gambit sat dumbfounded on Logan's stomach and watched him nearly suffocate with laughter. That bastard nearly howled in amusement.
"Cul." He muttered.
But the anger was leaving him. After all, they were two grown men, lying in a pool of mud. He tried to imagine how he looked sitting on Wolverine's stomach when he was almost rolling with laughter.
"Merde." He said once more and gave up. Soon he was laughing as hard as Logan, although he couldn't possibly understand why was he doing it.
After what seemed like ages Logan finally calmed down a bit, and managed to catch his breath. He wanted to say something but his voice died.
He looked up and saw Remy sitting with his head thrown back. Long, completely wet hair was hanging from his head and flowing down his shoulders. Pale and beautifully shaped face was constantly washed by cold raindrops. Some of them hung on his long, dark lashes that any woman would probably kill for. Other drops flew down his sharp cheekbones to his soft delicate lips - now white from the cold. In this position his neck was completely exposed and Logan had problems with swallowing, imagining how it would be to press his hard lips to that tender flesh? His hands itched to feel that soft hair, to cradle that well shaped skull and bring him down, to meet his lips. Why was he reacting like this?
The last threads of laughter died on Remy's lips and he looked down at the strong man he was still straddling. Strong. That was the word he always associated with Logan. Short but heavy with rippling muscles easily seen under wet the black t-shirt. His eyes constantly changed from hazel to yellow and then back. He used to think that his eyes changed only when he was feral, but now he wasn't and his feelings that came from him now were different.want, lust? Was he mistaken?
Gambit frantically checked his shields but there was nothing leaking! So it wasn't the charm.
He had no more time to ponder it because Logan's hand shot forward and gripped him by the back of his head in strong, but not a painful grip. Simultaneously Logan twisted his body so that the younger man was thrown off of him and he immediately pressed the Cajun down with his own body weight.
"What?"
He wasn't given a chance to ever finish the question. Hard, demanding, cold from the rain lips descended onto his. He expected to be forced by his demands but got something completely different.
Softness. Light touches of infinitive care that carressed his cold lips, warming them, coaxing him to respond rather than by force. Not thinking about what was he doing or with whom, he sighed and allowed his lips to part lightly, but enough to invite that warm, strong, relentless tongue inside.
He rather felt than heard low, soft growl that escaped the heavily muscled man above him and the hand in his hair tightened positioning his head in a more convenient angle. Only then did the Wolverine deepen the kiss. But it was so much more than a simple play of tongues, much more than a caress.
Remy felt consumed, overwhelmed, absorbed, and devoured. His whole world narrowed to the man above him, to the weight pressing him into the soft ground. He briefly wondered why this wasn't scaring him. Usually lost of control terrified him, but now. The heat coming off of Logan's body seemed to warm him, protect him from the cold rain.
He felt his tongue as a hard, restless and powerful thing in his mouth. Exploring, searching, and tasting him. Remy felt the constant growling, which strangely reminded him of purring and couldn't think about anything else. Just minutes ago he was cold, now however his skin was hot and sensitive. He wished Logan would touch him more.
He opened his eyes and looked from behind his lashes at the fierce man. Logan's kin was darker than his; raindrops were flowing down his face, disappearing in his whiskers. His eyes were closed and face seemed to express thunder storm of emotions - lust, want, tenderness, concentration.
He tried to free his hands, still pressed them flat to his sides to be able to touch the older man. The sudden movement jerked Logan out of his trance and he broke the kiss, drawing his attention back to look at Remy's face.
"I am sorry.but not for the kiss," said Logan slowly. "I…"
This time it was Remy's time to take the initiative. Never leaving the sincere eyes he freed his hands and tangled his cold, lean fingers into the wet whiskers and then jerked Logan's face harshly down and sealed their lips together in a kiss.
Logan was shocked. He never expected Remy to take the lead not after what had happened between them, that assumption seemed fully understandable.
The younger man's kiss took his breath away. All that time Remy spent on chasing woman he had gone into the woods. And he now knew what to do with that wicked tongue of his.
His kiss was like the Cajun himself - hot, spicy, sophisticated. but what lay underneth was unyielding passion, that Logan could fell himself. He opened his eyes to watch the total abandon on the thief's face.
He cherished the feeling of Remy's fingers tightening in his whiskers to the verge of pain, savored the willingness of that lean, intoxicating body under him.
When Remy shifted and pressed all that hard, graceful flesh into him, Logan moaned and with a loud SNIKT released the claws in the hand which was cradling Gambits head, and the one on the thief's side. Twelve inch of deadly adamantium cut into the soft ground anchoring him in place.
Remy went rigid at the sound. Was Logan getting angry? Was he regretting this? Changing his mind? When dealing with a man of Logan's temper, one should always be careful. It was probably a very short way for him from lust to anger.
At first Logan couldn't understand why Remy had started smelling of fear. It took him a full moment to associate to his terror with the claws.
Logan pulled back for a moment and looked into the hooded eyes that tried to avoid his gaze. He tightened his hand and forced the claws back inside.
"Trust me." He said softly, waiting for the thief to look at him. When he did, Logan continued. "I won't hurt you."
Although Remy didn't disagree, he wasn't convinced either. Logan forced his arousal back, his need to continue what they had started. The most important thing right now, was to convince Remy he could be trusted and not feared.
Gambit wondered if Logan knew he could feel his frustration as well as his need and lust, but also his warmth. There was also an indefinable emotion that was warm and soft and seemed to envelop his mind in kind of safe, good feeling. It had been a long time since Remy felt this good.
He didn't need words not now, not here. All he wanted was the man above him and the fire that was born between them. Gambit was afraid of words, because they led to lies and eventually to hurt.
Remy gathered his strength and pushed Logan off of himself. Surprised, Logan complied rolling off to give the thief space. The last thing he wanted was to scare him.
But Remy wasn't scared. He just didn't want any complications. Before Logan had the time to utter a word Remy was on him again. In one smooth motion he tore the black tee-shirt in two, baring the hairy, muscular chest and bit into Logan's collarbone - sharply.
Logan howled in pleasure and surprise. The sensation of cold lips and hot tongue on his sensitized flesh send jolts of pleasure down his spine. The thief caught his wrists and pinned them over his head. Logan felt oddly right in that position even though he was vulnerable.
Remy was anything but delicate. He gripped his wrists with bruising strength. If it wasn't for Logan's healing factor he would already have bruises. Then Gambit shifted so that he was pinning Logan's hands with his bodyweight. No matter how strong Logan was, freeing his hands without serious problems wasn't possible anymore. The kid had him pined real good.
And he was aware of that because at that moment he made sure, Logan had no free movement space, he was assured of his place. He murmured something in French - no longer curses - against the wet skin of his chest and then bit hard on the other collarbone.
Logan jerked up and bucked his hips, growling louder and louder. That red headed Cajun was driving him insane!
"Easy Cher," said Remy grinning wickedly. "Remy may t'ink you don' like it." And he shifted once more; pushing his leather clad cock into Logan's clearly visible hard on. "And Gambit may slow down. you understand. like he unsure and everyt'ing." He teased grinding harder.
Logan gritted his teeth to prevent himself from moaning out loud.
"Gambit may loose some of his body parts if he doesn't stop teasing!" He snarled and unleashed his claws with a loud SNIKT.
"Uh. de Wolverine shows his claws?" Remy asked smiling and lowered his face once more. His hot tongue darted out and touching one hard, erected nipple sending a shudder through Logan's body. Then he sank his teeth deep into the tender flesh, causing Logan to arch up from the ground and hiss. Gambit tenderly licked the blood away and watched as the wound closed and disappeared not leaving even a faintest scar. He pondered trying one more time when Logan bucked hard.
"Don't even think about it Cajun!"
Remy looked into his future lover's face and asked with as much feigned innocence he could muster.
"You've got claws. Remy got teeth."
He looked so sweet and innocent that Logan couldn't process what the kid was saying.
"Always knew you were a fucking cat!"
Remy laughed hard and loud and Logan couldn't believe what that felt when his face was pressed into his stomach. His arousal went haywire and he couldn't lie still any more. As if sensing Logan's frustration Remy finally let his wrists go and swiftly opened his fly.
Logan still wished that Remy would hurry and won't change his mind now! He didn't need to be afraid. The thief's long fingers had his pants open faster than he could have imagined. And he could feel cold drops of falling rain on his heated, hard shaft. Remy's hand closed over it and stroked him hard two times and he couldn't restrain the loud moan that escaped. He was so close to climax it was scary and with no one before had he ever been so turned on.
"You want to cum, Cher?" Remy asked teasingly while slowing a little bit.
"No," said Logan breathlessly.
Remy stilled was unsure. What in the hell was happening?
Logan's hands tangled in his hair and pulled him up into the long, hot kiss.
"Let's get back home. It's too fucking cold and wet here to do anything more." He said when he was sure the thief finally got his breath back, and reached down to touch the noticeable as his own hard on Remy had. He softly traced it's contours with his fingers never touching hard enough to give enough stimulation, but still he managed to draw a whimper from the Cajun.
"In dis state, Remy can't possibly ride a bike in dis state, Cher."
"Think about that huge, warm, vibrating engine between your legs." Logan growled softly pulling the kid up and straightening his clothes.
"Oh, when you say dis dat way."
TBC