Salome: Tears of the Goddess
Chapter 3
by
Albertina
Teaser: This is a Logan comicverse story, more or less, that doesn't fit into continuity. It just has some characters in it that I wanted to have skulking around the X-mansion so I put them in there.
Some of the highlights include: Nightcrawler, Cyclops, Gambit, and Wolvie go to a mutant strip club; Logan does his impression of a chicken; X-men throw a b'day party for Logan; and lots of sexual tension between Logan and an original female character. Oh-yeah- also some butt-kicking action. My first attempt at it. Feedback would be much appreciated.
Note: The best lines in this story are taken from the Song of Solomon in the Old Testament.
Charles Xavier watches Magdalene through the window in his office. She's standing in the garden helping another student in the garden. She has made good progress in her studies. Not spectacular, but good. They'd learned that she could barely read. What she had learned, she'd apparently taught herself. She must have led a very deprived life before she'd come to the mansion. He wondered, though, if her inexperience would work against her at some point in her time here. A few months had passed and she still hadn't quite jelled with the group.
She was definitely a telepath, of sorts, with some empathic ability as well. Only her telepathy was activated when she touched someone, unlike his and Jean's. He didn't know if this was a permanent part of her mutation or a quirk in her own nature. He knew she had a quick mind and a passionate nature. That much was undeniable; she fairly radiated with it. But the deprivation and loss she suffered held it in check. She hadn't wanted to discuss much of her background with him and he hadn't pressed the issue. He just let it lie. She would come to them when she was ready.
Sometimes, he sensed great waves of anger rolling through her. It was that anger that kept her considerable life force in check, he felt. But he couldn't be certain of this. It was possible that she held back her energy when she became angry to keep those forces at bay. She walked as thin a line as Logan did, every day of her life. She'd undoubtedly been doing it so long that she didn't know any other way. It was this tension that kept her so edgy and made her seem so stand-offish. It would take time, he knew, to see what would become of her.
Logan was the one person that she'd taken to. That seemed perfectly natural to everyone. She tolerated the rest of them. She was always polite but never actually friendly.
Jean had made several attempts at drawing her into her confidence, but Magdalene was still reticent. She and Scott seemed to have very little to do with each other. They barely spoke. She'd once helped Ororo in the kitchen and Ororo had said that she seemed shy and uncomfortable in her presence. What time she had she spent with Logan, who seemed to make time for her as well.
Her relationship with Rogue, on the other hand, was downright adversarial. When he'd asked Rogue about it, she'd said succinctly, "Ah just don't like her." A few times they'd exchanged heated words. This might have more to do with the fact that Gambit couldn't resist flirting with Magdalene in flippant sort of way. Gambit just plain annoyed her, and she made no secret of it. He, in turn, seemed to enjoy irritating her.
Why are you so mean to Gumbo, darlin', he's only teasing you," Logan says to her one day.
"Humph," she snorts. "I don't like him. He's just like all those men that used to come to the club"
"He's just flirting with you. He flirts with everyone. Don't worry, he only has eyes for Rogue."
"It pisses me off."
"He's just trying to get a rise out of you. You're cute when you're mad."
She smiles but doesn't look up from her book. It touches him to see how hard she's working at her reading. She's painfully ashamed of her illiteracy. For a long time, she wouldn't let anyone help her with it, and she refused to study with the other students in the room. She was so much older than they were. Finally, he'd offered to let her come to his room and he'd sit with her while she worked. She was reluctant to ask anyone else for help but him, for some reason.
He is moved by the way her mouth works when she is struggling with reading. She's a little trooper, he thinks. She isn't going to give up.
"Logan, what's this word?"
He leans across her to read over her shoulder.
"That word is...uh...intercourse," he says.
"Oh," she says.
She puts her pen down and massages the muscles in her right hand. He's looking out the window.
"I've never done that, you know. Regardless of what you might think," she says quietly.
"Done what?"
"It."
"You don't have to go there with me, darlin.' That's none of my business."
"I worked in those places but none of those men touched me. Although, a lot of them tried. I wouldn't let them. Some of those jerks...they...I think they liked it better that way. They like me untouchable. Most of them wouldn't lay a finger on a mutant, anyway. Makes a lot of sense, doesn't it? I guess they felt like touching one of us would make them dirty."
She is staring at the table. It has been polished to a bright sheen. Her refection looks back at her.
"So, I guess that makes me a virgin, technically."
Logan gets up from his chair and stands by the long window. He reaches for a cigar and lights it.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I care what you think."
He takes a deep drag on the cigar and blows the smoke out into the distance between them.
"I never thought you were a whore, if that's what you mean, and I wouldn't care if you had been. I'd still think of you as my friend."
She looks up from the table.
"It's just that...it's...I have some of your memories in my head. You don't have mine. I feel like I know you to the bone. Sometimes I forget that you don't know me like that."
He turns and looks at her intently. She has that young, soft look again.
"How old are you, darlin'? You've never told me."
"I'm 24."
"That's young. You're just a girl."
"I'm hardly Snow-White, you know. I've seen a lot."
"How did you know how to act up there on that stage? You don't seem like that woman anymore to me. How'd you know to do that?"
"I can see into minds, remember? Most men love a fallen woman. It's not hard to figure that much out."
"Do you think we all have glass heads or somethin'?"
"Yes."
"Well, you're wrong on that one, princess. I like you better the way you are now."
He bends over and flicks a stray lock of hair from her eyes. He stands there for a second and smiles at her.
"You're going to have to secure these heartfelt confessions, you know. I don't know if I can take it."
"I didn't mean...I wasn't trying to."
"I know you weren't darlin.' Get back to studying now. I don't want my girl to get behind"
"Right," she smiles back at him.
* * * * *
"Jean, when is Logan's birthday?" Magdalene asks her one day as they're flipping through some blouses on the clearance rack. Magdalene had become friendlier lately.
Jean stops and thinks.
"I've no idea. We don't how old he is. He doesn't know how old he is. Why?"
"Just curious."
"Do you want to throw him a party, maybe?"
"Not if it's not his birthday."
"Hmmm. Well, we could assign him a birthday. We could make it up and throw a party for the old geezer."
"I don't think he'd like that."
"So what? It's an excuse to have a party, isn't it? I think that's a good idea."
Jean holds up a dark-green silk blouse. She looks at the price tag and makes a face.
"Way too expensive," she says, putting it back.
Magdalene reaches over and takes a hold of it.
"I'll get it for you," she says.
"No, no, you can't do that, really."
"I want to get it for you. You've been nice to me. I insist."
"Are you sure? I mean, do you have any money?"
"Oh, I've got scads of money. The professor is hardly charging me anything for school and for rent. I had to talk him into letting me give it to him at all."
Jean looks at her, surprised.
"Come on, let's go look at stuff for Logan's party. He's gonna hate it," she says, laughing. "Maybe we could get some stupid-looking hats to wear. He'd really hate that."
Jean smiles and puts an arm around her. She's pleased when Maggie doesn't flinch at her touch.
"I'm starting to like you more and more, Magdalene," she says.
A few days later, everyone at the mansion knows about the party except Logan. Magdalene bought all the supplies herself. She'd insisted on it. Everyone was surprised at how excited she was at the prospect. She would put her hand over her mouth and giggle like a child at the prospect. The only thing he worried about was that Logan would take an unexpected leave and then they wouldn't be able to surprise him at all. The professor assured her that he'd let her know if Logan was planning on leaving.
Later that night, after they've decorated the seldom-used ballroom as covertly as possible, Magdalene stands back and surveys her handiwork
"It looks positively ridiculous," she says. "It's perfect."
Ororo laughs.
"Logan is not a party guy, that is for sure. He has lightened up a bit, though. He was once a total stick in the mud at parties."
Magdalene looks at the enormous cake on the buffet table. She's placing the 300th candle on it.
Rogue wanders in. She looks around the room. There are Christmas lights strung over the walls and even across the ceiling. Vari-colored streamers hang here and there. An enormous disco ball hangs from the ceiling.
"Good Lord, y'all, it looks like Mardi Gras in here."
Magdalene is flipping through some CD's of 70's disco hits. She ignores Rogue.
"Ah didn't know today was Logan's birthday," she says seating herself on the edge of the table.
"It might be," Magdalene says. "You never know. It's getting dark. Ororo would you go get everyone? I'll go get Logan. He's at the boathouse. He should be wandering up any minute. He's probably getting hungry."
Magdalene goes to the back door later in search of Logan and meets him as he's coming through the door.
"Hey, darlin'"
"Hi. Listen, Logan, do you have a minute? There's something I want to show you."
The smile fades from his face. He follows her silently through the door.
"Surprise," is the noise that greets them. The room is filled with about fifty people. All wearing little hats made of what looks like tinsel, with little streamers blooming from the top.
Logan looks as surprised as anyone's ever seen him look.
"What the flamin' hell--," he says.
Magdalene reaches behind a table and pulls out an enormous red and yellow sombrero. She plops it on his head and places a huge cigar into his open mouth.
"Surprise, Logan, it's your birthday. Your hundred millionth birthday. Happy Birthday."
He just stands there, looking stunned.
Magdalene puts her arms around him and kisses him on the cheek. She whispers "happy birthday" into his ear.
Logan finally grins and pulls the sombrero off his head, flinging it to the floor.
"This was your idea wasn't it, Maggie?"
"Of course."
"You're a bad girl."
"Not all the time," she says
"You all look like idiots," he says, grinning.
A few hours later, the party has finally begun to die down. Even Scott is a little tipsy. Logan had spiked his punch, secretly, for revenge.
Scott wanders up to Maggie and Logan who are sitting on the couch together. He's wearing the big sombrero, slightly askew.
"Great party, Maggie," he says, slurring his words slightly. "Didn't know you had it in you. I always thought you were kind of a stick in the mud. Love the disco ball--," he wanders off unsteadily.
Magdalene and Logan exchange a glance and stifle a laugh.
"Somebody go get a camera," Logan says.
Everyone had had such a good time that even Magdalene and Rogue had called a truce. They'd even danced together once underneath the disco ball to "Ring My Bell."
After everyone had staggered up to bed, Logan goes outside to smoke one of the cigars that were Magdalene's birthday gift.
It's a clear night. He looks up at the stars. Magdalene walks through the door and walks up beside him.
"This is one hell of a fine cigar."
"It's Cuban."
"Aren't these illegal, now? Where'd you get it, you little minx?"
"I have my ways. Did you have a good birthday?"
"The best birthday yet, darlin'."
He winks at her.
"Have you ever had a birthday party before?"
"No."
"Me, neither."
"Didn't you have a family once? They never throw you any parties?"
"No. My parents...my father, actually...didn't care much for girl children. Where he was from, they just aren't a priority. When I manifested, he had no use for me at all. I never saw them again."
"How old were you?"
"Fourteen, fifteen...something like that."
"That sucks."
"Yeah. It sucked."
She sighs and holds her arms.
"Are you cold?"
"A little."
"Here," he pulls his jacket off and drapes it over her.
"Thanks," she says. He's notices that she doesn't shrink from his touch.
He looks away from her, up at the stars. It is a cold, clear night. A comfortable silence falls between them.
"You know those Greeks...they had all these stories about gods and goddesses. They would look up at the stars and see things in them, the shapes of heroes and goddesses, kings and queens. People who had powers like us. I wonder what they would have made of this crowd."
He waves in the direction of the house.
"And the moon...there was a goddess for that, too. She was beautiful and brightlike you."
He looks over at her. She is looking back at him, her lips parted.
"That's what you remind me of, darlin', when you're all lit up. You look like a queen. A pagan queen. They would've put you up there...in the stars."
He approaches her, standing so close to her that his chest brushes against her breasts.
"I think you hang the moon, darlin'. Someday you'll know it, too. You'll forget all the pain the world has shown you and you'll know."
He puts his hands on her face, leans over and kisses her on the forehead. As he pulls away from her, she reaches for his arms and takes hold.
"Don't stop," she says.
"I've got to, honey. If I don't let go now...I won't let go at all."
"I...I don't want you to let go."
"We can't go there, Maggie. It's not right."
She brushes his arm away, and takes a step back.
"You're just like they are...the rest of them," she says, her eyes filling. "You want me up there on some sort of pedestal. You don't want to touch me, either. You just want to look at me, like some kind of supplicant, some kind of...some kind of I don't know what."
She brushes the tears from her face. They fall to the ground, glowing slightly, before they are extinguished.
"I'm not a goddess. I'm not a queen. No one is going to tell my story. No one is going to look up into the stars and see my face. I'm just a girl, like any other. A girl that's never been touched, not in that way."
"You misunderstand me. That's not what I meant."
He takes her face between his hands.
"I know what you are. You are like a goddess...a queen...but you're also just a girl...I know that."
He takes a deep breath.
"I don't know exactly what's holding me back, darlin'. Cuz everything in me wants you. I'm burning for you, and you know it, so quit with all this pedestal crap. I see you clearly. I don't want you to get hurt again. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand knowing that I'd caused it. It ain't always what people say it is, not at first."
"You think I don't know that?"
"How could you?"
"Logan, I have your memories. I can feel how much you loved Mariko. I can feel how much you loved and wanted Jean. I have memories of an intimacy that I've never actually had. And it's driving me crazy. I know that when I did that to you, looked at your memories, you felt like I'd violated you, almost like I'd raped you."
"No, no, that's not how I feel. Not now."
"Let me finish, please. I have memories of you inside a woman, making love to a woman. And I what I did to you and the others is like that. Like a man inside a woman. Didn't you feel like a woman that night? I know how it feels to be a man but not a woman. I want to know how that feels. I need to know. You make me want to know how that feels."
She becomes luminous underneath the stars. She seems taller. Her voice takes on a deep, low tone, almost a whisper.
"I want you inside me."
He's breathing hard. She can hear his will begin to snap and bend at the sight of her.
He breaches the distance between them in one beat of his heart. Pressing his lips against her, he arches her back beneath the pressure of his mouth. One hand slides up her back and takes hold of the hair at the back of her neck. He pulls her head back and lets his mouth travel the arc of her neck. He can hear her heart pounding inside her chest and he drops to his knees to place his mouth over it, both hands on her breasts. He stands up again and covers her mouth with his, prying her lips apart with his tongue. He groans into her mouth, pressing his body against hers hard.
And, then, he pushes her away from him.
"I'm not going to do it, darlin', not like this. I'm not going to take you like this, here in the dirt like an animal."
She opens her eyes. She's unsteady on her feet. He can still hear her heart pounding.
"You deserve better than that."
"This is what I want."
"But it's not what I want. I don't want this for you."
"Logan...I--."
"Don't start with me. It's taking all me strength to keep from tearing into you, right now. I can't take it. Just go. Go back inside. Go to your room and lock your door like a good girl. You don't know what you're doing."
She glares back at him, the light in her grows dim and finally goes out. She looks again like the same young girl that had been his friend for the past few months.
She turns and starts to walk back toward the house. He watches her until she disappears through the door.
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