Reacquainted Souls: Part One

by Kerri G.

Charlotte sat on a large boulder down near the water's edge, idly tossing in rocks. She squinted up at the noonday sun, noting it was almost time for lunch.

It had been just 14 days since she brought him here. The idea was to spend time together, see where this relationship might lead, if anywhere. She knew how she felt, but she couldn't trust the feeling created by the pressures of war and loss. So far, things had been okay. Over the last six months they had talked by phone weekly, he had visited her when she was in New York, she'd gone back to the mansion several times for the weekend. All very nice and platonic. And very unfulfilling.

Bringing him here was a serious step on her part. This place was her refuge from the stress of a long life. If they were to make it, he had to understand and be comfortable here. It was too easy getting use to having a man around the house again. Even one so young.

During the days he wandered the compound, meditated, climbed the mountain, made use of her gym and watched sports games on the satellite TV. She worked on her various projects, cooked enormous meals, and watched him through the surveillance cameras.

In the evenings they sat together in the library, her drinking brandy or port, Logan drinking beer or bourbon, and talked. He told her things he remembered about himself, stories about the X-men and their various missions. She told him about her life, the different people she'd known, some of her experiences during the wars. He didn't judge her, nor she him. They grew comfortable with each other. She found herself looking forward to the evenings.

Each night they retired late, her to her upstairs suite, him to the first floor guest room. And she would lie awake until nearly dawn, thinking about him directly below her, wishing he was next to her. It was a good thing a person needed less sleep as they grew older. He often woke late, looking grumpy and scruffy and entirely too appealing to her senses.

A sound behind her got her attention, but she already knew he was approaching her from behind. Can't hide things from a telepath.

He climbed up on the rock and settled himself next to her. He didn't speak. He didn't need to.

"Thinking 'bout goin' back. Promised Jubilee I'd take her to New York for a weekend before school started again to shop. Don' know how she got me to agree, but I did."

"When you leaving?" Already?

"A few days." Or weeks, months. How about decades?

"I'll miss you. I've gotten used to having you around," she said.

"You could come wi' me. Stay the winter. See how ya like it." Stay with him forever.

"I'll have to think about that." What think? She was lost to him and she knew it.

"I'll try an' make ya see things my way."

She laughed. "I'll look forward to that."

A challenge, just the opening he'd been looking for. He stopped and pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers, waiting for her to respond before deepening the kiss.

Charlotte felt her knees weaken, felt her head spin. She wound her arms around his neck, opening her mouth to his. She was barely aware he scooped her up, carrying her easily into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom.

He stepped in and set her down, taking her face in his hands. Her eyes opened, wide, glowing. Logan saw the kindred soul he remembered from those years ago, the one he fell in love with. In the last crystal-clear moment of rational thought he realized he was never going to leave her. Ever.

Well, Charlotte thought to herself several hours later, that was pretty good convincing. The sex was every bit as good as the long decades remembering promised it would be. He had been tireless, showing her no mercy, her wanting none.

She stretched, wincing at protesting muscles she'd forgotten she had for more than a quarter century. Sliding out of bed carefully, she looked back.

He was sprawled amid the rumpled sheets, his tanned skin even darker against the white linen. The harsh lines of his body, his face, looked exhausted in his sleep. Someone else hadn't been sleeping well, either. She could see the healing scratches on his back, evidence of her loss of control. She hoped to lose control again very soon.

She'd given him her soul, again. And received a piece of his in return.

The first step made her want to cringe, but she ignored it and quickly padded to the bathroom. She turned on the water into the oversized hot tub, needing a soak to ease the sore muscles, and tossed in some bath salts.

When the tub was full, she slid in with an appreciative groan and leaned back. She covered her eyes with a folded washcloth and let her mind shut down, letting the bubbles ease away her aches, and promptly lost track of time.

She didn't hear or sense him approach the tub. A gentle hand stroked her cheek, then a finger slid lazily over her lips. She removed the cloth from her eyes and looked up into the dark depths of Logan's. She bit the end of his finger, then used her tongue to swirl around the tip.

He sucked in his breath and stepped into the large bathtub with her. She motioned for him to sit down in front of her and drew him back against her, rubbing his shoulders lightly, the water bubbling and swirling around his bulk.

"You okay?" he asked. He feared his need might have scared her. It had overwhelmed some of the women he had been serious about over the years and he didn't want to frighten her away. Not now that he'd found her again.

"I'm better than okay," she reassured him.

After a quiet minute, one she spent trickling water over his chest, his head resting back against her shoulder, she spoke.

"I'll spend the winter with you."

[next part]

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