Salome: Tears of the Goddess
Chapter 4
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.
Logan pulls up to the mansion and gets off his motorcycle. He's been gone for three months, on a vacation of sorts. He'd really gone back home for a while to do nothing. He'd told everyone that he was going to clear his head but what he'd really done hadn't given him much clarity. He'd mulled over some thoughts, chewed on others, and had ended up back in the same original confusion. Eventually, he'd begun to miss his companions so he packed it in and rode all night to get home.
"Logan! Hi," Jean says when she sees him. "How was your trip?"
"It was all right," he looks around the room. It's normally noisier in the mansion.
"Where is everyone?"
"Most of the kids are gone. Christmas vacation. Rogue, Storm, Scott and Hank are on a mission, nothing really serious. Rogue and Remy are on the outsagain. She took off for awhile. Gambit is still here and the professor and me and you. How have you been? We missed your ugly mug around here."
"I'm still standin,' darlin'."
"Of course. After WWIII there will be roaches, Keith Richards, and. . .you," she says, smiling. "I'm surprised your back so soon. Decided to hang out for the holidays for a change?"
"Somethin' like that."
"Come and help me with this," she asks. She's stringing popcorn on a long line.
They sit down on the table and he looks at the six feet of strung popcorn stretched across it.
"What the hell are you doin'?"
"What does it look like I'm doing? Don't be a Scrooge. Here. String this up, please."
He scowls and reluctantly punctures a piece of popcorn.
"It's nice to have you here, Logan. I mean that," she looks at him pointedly but he's looking out the window.
"Is that Maggie?" he asks.
Jean turns around.
"Yes, that's her. She's still here. She's so quiet sometimes I forget she's here. I'd feel guiltier about it but she doesn't seem to care either way."
She studies his face. He energetically stabs at a piece of popcorn.
"Is she walking around with the Cajun?"
"Hmmm. Probably. They've become pretty friendly recently," she says. "But it's not what you're thinking."
"I hope not. Wouldn't want Rogue and Maggie at each other's throats. Break-up or no break-up."
He reaches over to the popcorn bowl and scoops out a handful, puts it in his mouth.
"How's she doin' with her studies?"
"Well, I think. She's always studying. I don't know, really. She's pretty mysterious."
"How's that?"
"She's quiet, you know, and polite, but you never know what's going on in that head of hers"
She looks up from her work and looks at Logan.
"She reminds me of you."
"Of me? That's a stretch."
"Not really. Not when you've been around her for awhile."
"I don't see it."
"Really? I think you do. You two are the same animal, I think."
"Humph. I don't want to talk about it, Jeannie. There's nothing to talk about."
"All right."
"Is she why you left?"
"No. I wouldn't do that for some broad."
"You most certainly would. I've seen you do some pretty strange things when you want someone, including cutting off your nose to spite your face."
"Jeannie, I'm not having this conversation with you of all people. You know as well I do when something just ain't right, than you pack it in and call it quits."
"Yes, I know. But she's not me, is she? She's someone else entirely. And she's crazy for you, no doubt about it."
He doesn't respond.
"She's been moping around here for months. I feel bad for her. I don't think she knows what she's doing or where she's headed."
"I didn't ask her to come here, remember?"
"Maybe you did and you just don't know it."
He doesn't respond.
"So, she's been lost, huh? Without me?"
"That has been my impression."
"That right there, Jeannie, is the reason I left."
* * * * *
Later, Magdalene and Remy walk through the front door. Logan sees them walk in from his seat on the couch. Her scent drifts his way and he inhales it deeply, closing his eyes. She's dressing better, he notices. She looks a little older. A strange scent follows them into the hallway where she's hanging up her coat. It's a dog. The ugliest dog he's ever seen is trailing them, wagging its tail.
The dog notices Logan first and leaps over to him. Logan leans over and scratches the dog's head. The dog responds by jumping into his lap and licking his face.
"Whoa, boy. There now. I don't need a bath that badly, do I? Get down, buddy. There's a good dog."
Magdalene and Remy turn at the sound of his voice.
"Logan, you're home. How long have you been back?" Remy asks, walking up to him and pounding him on the shoulder.
"A minute. Who's this?" he says, nodding at the dog.
"That's Jack. He's mine," Magdalene says, walking into the room behind Gambit. Her expression is hard to read.
"Ugliest dog I've ever seen," Logan says.
"He none too pretty," Gambit replies. "Like you."
"So, I see we're still taking in strays around here, huh? Good." He looks at Magdalene. She's looking at the dog.
"Maggie found him," Gambit says.
"He followed me home from work," she says.
"Work?" Logan says.
"Yeah, I'm a working girl again," she says, looking back at him. "Jack, come on, boy, you need a bath."
She leaves the room, the dog trotting along behind her.
"What the hell is she talking about, Gumbo?"
"Maybe you should let her tell you 'bout it."
"I want you to tell me about it."
"You've been gone awhile. Some tings happened while you were away."
"Such as?"
"Let her tell you about it. I don' know de whole story."
"Bullshit. I hear you two have gotten friendly."
"Judgin by that cool reception she just give you, I tink she should tell you."
"Why are you being such a putz, Cajun? First Jeannie and now you? To hell with this...I'm gonna go find her."
He leaves the room and begins to climb the stairs. He knocks on her door.
"Maggie," he says. "I know you're in there. Open up."
"I'm studying, Logan. I'm busy."
"How can you be pacing around in there and studying?"
There's no answer.
"Maggie, I'll come crashing through this door if you don't open it right now."
"No, you won't."
"Try me."
He hears walk toward the door. Then he hears her unlock it.
"You lock your door?"
"You're the one who told me to."
"Are you going to open it or not?"
The door opens a crack and he can see her eyeball peeking around the edge.
"What do you want?" she says.
"I want to talk to you, what do you think?"
"If you come in here, I'll hit you."
"Now why in hell would you do that?"
"I'm just warning you."
"Just open the door, girl, before you make me mad."
She opens the door about an inch and walks away from it.
Before he's all the way in the room, her fist snakes out from behind the door and slams into his jaw.
"Ow," he says, one hand on the side of his face.
"Ow," she says, holding her hand with the other and shaking it.
"Why the hell did you do that?"
"You're full of shit."
"That's some punch you've got there. Who taught you to do that?"
"Remy."
"He did, did he? Well, I could teach you more than him."
She doesn't say anything, just stands there and glares at him.
"You shouldn't try and get my blood up, darlin', didn't anyone ever tell you that?"
"Just you."
"Yeah, well, I guess you're right. How's that hand?"
"It hurts like hell. You've got a metal head."
"Let me see it."
She doesn't move. He grabs her arm and jerks it towards him.
"What were you thinking, you idiot? You could have broken every bone in your hand."
He gently uncurls her fingers and looks at her palm.
"Well, you look all right. No real damage. Now, sit down and quit acting like a child. I want to hear your story."
"You barely speak to me for three months and then you're gone for another three. I'm not telling you jack-shit."
He smiles at her despite himself. She was cute when she was mad.
"I'm not giving you a choice."
She plops herself down in a chair.
"What've you been doing, lately, besides farting around with Gambit?"
"Studying, the usual."
"Doin' any training?"
"A little. I'm not very good."
"I find that hard to believe."
"Well, just ask anyone. I don't have good control. Not yet."
"You're just immature. It'll take some time."
He can see that what he's said steams her. He can feel the humming that accompanies one of her temper tantrums. She begins to shimmer with light.
"Don't get all fired up. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. You just don't want to hear it."
"Are you done, yet, because I've got things to do."
"No, I'm not done. What's this about you having a job? Where the hell are you working."
"Not where you think. I wouldn't go back there for anything, not after--," she trails off. She sighs deeply. "I'm not actually working anywhere. Not real work. Just unfinished business. But it's my business and I'll take care of it. I don't need you."
"If you're in any danger of any kind, you better tell me now. And if you don't tell me...I'll find out some other way. Either way...I'll find out. I can hear it from you or I can poke around in your life for awhile and find out that way. You better believe I'll do it, too."
"You'd violate my privacy like that?"
"The way you violated mine? Damn right I would."
She glares at him. They are both genuinely mad now. Her can feel her life force thrilling through her body. He feels his own rising to meet it, the animal in him stretches and rises to its feet.
"I can remember a time when you wanted me to violate you, darlin'."
They circle each other without moving. She's coiled as tight as a spring. She has that haughty, imperial look she wore the night he met her, as if she's looking down at him from a high white tower.
She's across the room in an instant, raining blows on his head and chest. She's faster than he thought she'd be and she knocks him back on the floor. Her hair falls down into his face as he tries to grab both her arms, but she's squirming too much, he can't get a good grip.
She's stronger than she looks, he thinks, as one of her fists escapes him and hits him on the side of the face.
Finally, he turns her over until he's lying on top of her, both arms pinned at her sides, her arms stretched over her head.
"Stop it, Maggie. Just stop it."
"Get off of me. You're crushing me, you weigh a ton," she says.
"How can I be crushing you if you've still got breath to tell me that I'm crushing you. Jesus, you're blinding me. I can hardly see."
"Good."
Actually, in the heat of the moment he hadn't thought that his 300 pound plus frame might injure her. But he could see that despite her protests, she was firm and hard beneath him. He wonders if her illumined state makes her invulnerable.
Looking at her now was like looking into the sun.
"Maggie, can you tone it down a bit? You're hurting me."
Her light subsides a shade until she glows again just slightly, from within, like a chip of faceted amber.
He's panting. So is she.
"All right. I shouldn't have said that. I was way out of line. I'm sorry. Don't hit me anymore."
He eases her grip on her left arm. She takes a swing at him with her freed arm and he barely ducks out of the way in time.
"I said stop it, goddammit or I'll hold you here until you chill out."
He senses that her anger subsides but she's still breathing heavily. He can feel her chest rising and falling beneath him. Her lips part slightly and her eyes are hooded. He lets his hands slide down the inside of each arm, lets them travel down her sides until they rest at her hips.
Then he pushes away from her with a groan and sits on the floor, his head in his hands.
She springs from the floor to her feet and stands there, without moving.
"Maggie, Maggie, what have you done to me, kid?" he says, running a hand through his hair.
"I'm not a kid. I'm not anyone's kid. If you're done here, I really wish you'd just go," she says, not unkindly.
"Yeah, I think I'd better go."
He gets up and thrusts his hands into this pockets, balls them into fists.
"I didn't mean what I said, Maggie."
"I know you didn't just please go."
He walks through the door, closing it behind him.
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