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[H a r r i e t]

Claire was a hard working girl, tried to do everything she could to keep it that way as well. No matter the sleeze bags that walked into the bar, or how many tips she didn't get because she decided not to flash some customer's. Most of the time she was taken care of, her boss being a friend of her Father made things easier for her as well to get time off and still get paid. But what she didn't know a thing about, was responsibility. Never had the care in the world to try and take charge of anything unless it was her life. And even then she was still a little ransom about things.

She was young, twenty-two. Although she's worked at the bar since she was seventeen, even with being underage the drinking limit. And she had even brought a couple more guys into the bar while she was younger, so the owner really didn't have anything to complain about. If she was lucky, she'd get her fair share of alcohol after closing when she was cleaning up. In fact, she had made a couple of the other bartenders, older and more filled out woman, jealous with all the attention she was getting without even trying to get it. Not that Claire was hurt, or felt guilty about watching them walk out with their last paycheck, she was rather delighted. More money for her, and less work to have to do to get it.

Tonight was one of those nights, however. You just wanted to get everything done as fast as you could, even if it was all half assed, just to get home soon as possible. It had been a little slow, some fussy guys trying to cheap her out of money they owed, and the usual perverted truckers who needed to learn how to speak clearly. Didn't help that Claire was running out of smokes, and didn't have enough money to buy herself something to eat and call a taxi. She'd have to wait until she got home, but couldn't get home until she finished swiping down the tables and stacking them, sweeping, and doing the dishes.

So far, she had been able to sweep, but would most likely have to do more after everyone finally left. Couldn't do much of the tables, since most were still in some kind of use. She could, however, start on the dishes. Get them gathered, then start putting some in the back to get washed by the dishwashers until she was finished to go back and help out. Claire would have to gather all the ones that weren't in use, though. Meant she had to interact with the perverts and whores. the only part of the job she didn't enjoy. The odd occasion, she'd get a gentlemen, or a woman that was just stopping in for some food and a glass of water. But it was rare. Tonight there only seemed to be one that wasn't asking her questions that she didn't have to answer, or trying to pull on her ratty, holy jeans.

Grabbing a tray from behind the bar, she moved towards empty tables. Lifting the empty cups, she placed them onto the surface of the tray and went along to another. Going back to the bar when it was full, she placed them on the window's ledge that lead to the back, smiling towards the male working back there, as if saying she was sorry to give him more work. Turning on her heels, she narrowed her gaze and chose which group of people to approach first. Pushing her lips together, she mentally shrugged and went towards the three males that were laughing about something on the small television hanging within the corner of the room over the bar. "Are you Gentlemen done?" The question was polite, short, and to the point. One of the males, extremely unattractive and over weight, seemed to be getting an eyeful. Made a snark remark, causing Clarie's smile to instantly drop and her gaze harden.

His hand moved, dropping his fork beside his chair. Sighing, she waited for him to get it. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes at his childish behavior and bent over to pick it up. Feeling the slap almost sent her over the edge. Clenching her hand around the handle of the fork, she straightened and turned on her heels, getting out of reach before he could do anything else. 'Just have to wait for them to fuck off, then.' Adding the fork to the plates and beer glasses, her shoulders rolled as she tried to relax. It was getting a bit hot inside the bar, and with her getting constantly annoyed, it didn't help. Raising a hand, one that was covered with a fingerless leather glove, she pulled at the neck of her white muscle shirt and pushed her hand into her back pocket, reaching for her pack of smokes.

Moving towards a separate door that lead to the storage room, she exhaled deeply and clenched her eyes as she entered. Tonight was one of the worst nights she had ever had here, and it was almost enough to drive her over the edge to quit. But she couldn't do that to Jeb, it'd break his heart. And who else would bar tend? It was only him and her. Didn't made things easy for him if she left. And it was like a second home. "Fucking assholes," The door didn't close behind her, however. Someone had caught the door and stepped inside before it had a chance to hit the door frame like it usually did. Blinking, she turned around, hand still within her back pocket, trying to fish out the cigarettes. She hadn't expected the harsh slap across the face, her body shifting, and her cheek slammed into the shelf beside them.

Collapsing to the floor after the impact, she groaned and clenched her eyes. Hit the ground pretty hard, as well. Enough to bruise her forehead, only adding to the gash she could feel from the steel she had just smashed her face off of. Rolling onto her back, not all there to be concerned with her attacker still in the room, she raised a hand and touched her left cheek, just under her eye. Winching, it stung, and was slightly throbbing. Her fingers were covered in crimson liquid, sending panic into her body, her adrenaline starting to rush faster as soon as she caught sight of the heavy set male at her feet.

 

[Malicious Lullaby]

Just after the death of Jean, and pretty much running over the school alongside Storm, Logan had a lot on his shoulders. It tended to get really difficult especially since he was recuperating from Jean's death at his own pace, on his own terms. He was still his same short-tempered and hot-headed mutant, his three-clawed claws the same and sharp as ever as well as not being able to break and he having the ability to not die. He saw it as a curse when he just wanted to die. It definitely wasn't of the easiest times that for sure.

That morning, as he lay in bed, all he could think of was how he'd be bogged down with so much work, so much stress that it was finally and fully getting to him. he needed a break. He needed to get out of here. Getting out of his bed, he showered and dressed. jeans and a wife beater with his usual black jacket, the top right pocket with a pack of cigarettes, as usual and his lighter in his pocket. His hair was how it always was, that unique style with his beard without a mustache, the bear bordering around the frame of his fame, with some stubble under his chin, right at the curve. He put his feet into the black boots and he was off. Exiting his room, he went down the stairs and walked to the garage, grabbing some random keys to one of the cars and pressing the unlock button to see which vehicle it pertained to.

Seeing a sleek and shiny black and black porsche's lights in the front blink, he walked over to it and opened it and got in. Opening the garage, he turned the engine on and he was off! shutting the garage door before he raced off, he then drove all the way back to a familiar bar, the home of his cage fighting and the first time he met Rogue...before she went and got herself 'fixed' and mutant-free.

Near the end of the day[a couple of hours before the bar was closing up] he arrived to that same and very fateful bar and he parked. Walking in, he locked the car and tucked the keys away in his jeans pockets. Eyes were on him when he entered. It was probably his hair. It wasn't exactly that of the norm. Walking further in, he took a seat on a bar stool and got himself a nice big jug of beer poured for him by a rather beautiful and young bartender. for the moment, he didn't take much notice to her as he was too self-involved with all the stress from running Xavier's school.

His hand firmly grasped the handle of the clear jug, lifting it to his lips and allowed himself to take in more than half of the contents in one big gulp, finishing it off in a small gulp. He put the jug back down, tapping the bar table next to the jug for a refill, putting more money on the counter. He's been having rough days. Logan took a large sip of his beer once it was refilled and then just sat there. Inhaling and exhaling, soft breaths and hard breaths. He took in everything around him. The noise--chatter, laughter, so on---and as the night progressed on towards closing up, he noticed three disgusting looking men at one table, one in particular giving the young female bartender a hard time. More like insulting her. His hands clenched into fists when the fat man slapped her ass, but since she walked away from it, he let it go.

His eyes remained on her in the most nonchalantly matter throughout the rest of the evening. Following her movements as she went to the back, those same three pigs following after, the fatter one going inside. for the moment, he didn't pay mind to it since he didn't think of it as his business but then when he heard that loud slap and a body thud to the ground, he got up immediately. Two men were guarding outside of the door and immediately he took them out. His claws came out from his skin around his knuckles and he thrusted one claw into the first guy's heart and the second claw into the second man's heart. Both falling instantly dead. He didn't like it when he saw men mistreating women.

Kicking the door opened, he saw her attacker. "That's not how you treat a lady..." Venomly said, he plunged both of his claws into the fat man's chest and watched as his body hit the ground with a large and loud thump. kicking him away, Logan made his way beside the young woman's body, cradling half of it in his arms, sitting on his knees. "Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes only then scanning over the hit on her head and then the terrible gash under her eye. He helped her up to her feet, thinking she could make it, stay conscious, staying at her side and keeping her up in case she had no balance. "Will you be alright, Ma'am?"

 

[H a r r i e t]

About ready to give her life away to this asshole, Claire had never expected anyone to barge in and come to her rescue. Her breath caught, a little scared this was going to end up worse then what it had been a moment go. That changed when the new male raised his fist, and seemed to be holding three blades. Too delusional to keep her eyelids open, she tried to listen to make out what was said. Hearing bits and pieces, though enough to piece together that she wasn't going to be killed or raped, her head tilted to the side. Opening her eyelids for a moment, her body jerked against the cold floor when the bare hand was extended, no knives. Her arm raised limply, her fingers having to try twice to get a good hold on his own. His cool skin gave her shudders, but she still managed to hold onto him for him to pull her to her feet carefully.

Raising a hand to her head, avoiding her cheek, she shook her head slowly. "I . . . I don't . . . know," Her eyelids fluttered and her knees almost gave out, causing her to stumble forward. The last thing she remembered was grabbing onto the male's leather jacket, and trying to save herself from falling, until she went unconscious.

Ever since her eyelids had closed, Clarie had become unaware of everything that was happening. Hasn't expected him to catch her completely, or rather pick her up and decide that he was going to make it better. Most males wouldn't have bothered, would've left her on the floor and ran out the door as fast as his legs could carry him. But Logan was different, even though he didn't seem to care, he did have a heart. You just actually had to look, push some things out of the way, to see it. And what Clarie was receiving right now, his attention to care for her and make sure she was alright, was something that if she had been awake, would've most likely known she'd never see again.

Even while unconscious, she stirred, her cheek pulsing within her mind. Her dreams were being corrupted by how her head was throbbing, along with her cheek. Eyelids clenched ever so often, fluttering, though never fully opened. Fingers twitched into fists before relaxing again. It was almost like she was reliving what had just happened inside her head over and over again. Even though her mind was blank, wasn't even dreaming, she acted as though she was trying to block something out. Something didn't feel right to her body, and it was trying to warm her.

Logic told her to wake up before she was killed, raped, whatever. That someone was taking her somewhere, and she wouldn't know where she was if she ever escaped with her life. What if this one was going to hurt her more then what the other male did? She had only gotten a slap out of him. Was this really how her night was going to go?

Lips parted, muffled whispers pushing against Logan's collar as he drove the two of them back into New York. Her eyebrows clenched as her one hand moved to grasp onto him, holding on for her life, her mind still trying to force her to wake up. Clenching against his jeans, her nails scrapped, though it was minor, and near his knee. His body was also warm, making her want to move more into his embrace. She was taking all the wind on her bare arms, and bare legs where the holes were located within her jeans. This caused her to move against him, almost lean, huddling against his chest.

Her body hadn't registered that they had stopped, and was now being carried one again. Her left arm fell over her stomach, and her right dangled limply beside her, swinging in the air with each step Logan took. Her small mutters were coming by a little more clear, but not clear enough to be understood unless you tried to sound it out yourself. After that, everything stopped.

x X x​

As soon as Claire's body had been rested nicely against the white cushion that was bolted to the silver bed, she was resting much easier, out of someone's arms, and away from harm. So her mind had been lead to believe. At least she wasn't mumbling, still, or twitching like she had been while in Logan's warm, yet metallic-cold, embrace. Her eyelids fluttered now and then, as if she was sleeping at home, all cozy and snuggled within her silk sheets. It was hard for her to fall in such a deep sleep, but with the help of her pounding head and the gash upon her cheek, it was easy for her body to relax and release. Usually wasn't a good idea around strange men that she didn't know, but if he had been about to do something, he would've already done so. Correct?

Within her mind, she didn't dream. There were no pretty pictures, with unicorns and beautiful women and men with white feathered wings. Even if there were, by the time her eyes would open, she wouldn't remember them. It was almost like a gift, the only gift her Father had given her, to not remember nightmares, or even good dreams. If she had a fantasy, when or if it ever came true, would only lead her to a let down. After all, the fantasy was always better then the reality. It didn't matter the outcome, or who it was with. Life just didn't work well with happy endings.

Her lips parted, breathing through her mouth now. Her head turned to the left, some strands of lose hair falling against her wet cheek, but the sting didn't wake her from her slumber. Instead, in it's place, came a small glow. At first, it was nothing more then just a radiant kind of aura around her body, her pale skin glowing a little more against the lights within the metal room. Until she started to stir again, something being triggered within her body, causing her to grow uneasy again. Her heart started to pick up in pace, her chest pushing up into the dirty and slightly blood stained muscle shirt, her hands clenching against her jeans for support.

In an instant, her body made a change from the glow it had, to a faint rim. Slowly, her body started to become transparent, her figure and outline still visible, just barely, against the white cushion she was laying on. Unaware of the changes, obviously, she continued to stir gently, soft mutters slipping from her lips again, this time trying to tell something. Even if Logan listened closely, he wouldn't be able to understand the jammed words that were slipping from her throat.

In a flash, her body was back to normal, and her eyelids opened. Bolting into a sitting position, Claire held her breast, just over her heart and panted loudly. Her free hand grasped the side of the bed beside her for support, her head turning even more then it had been moments ago. Her eyelids slowly closed, not even sure if there was someone with her in the room or not. Couldn't bring herself to care; too worried about what just happened. Her chest felt heavy, as if someone had been sitting on it for more then ten minutes. Her thighs were pulsing, and her lips had a small stinging burn. The only problem, was that she didn't feel the sting on her cheek from the gash, nor the faint bruising upon the opposite cheek from being struck.

"All in my head, all in my head . . . nothing's wrong, I'm okay . . ." Her breathing was starting to calm, though it was still uneasy, and her head felt light. Raising her hand to her forehead, she brushed her hair from her smooth skin and once again opened her eyes. This time she saw Logan, his figure hard to miss against the bright walls. Her body instantly tensed, not remembering what he had done to save her, not even remembering his face. Clarie's body shifted quickly, causing her to lose her balance, and she tipped over the back of the platform. Falling on her rear and her one leg, she muffled a groan and held back a small winch of pain. Ignoring it, she peeked around to look at him, and then spotted one of the doorways.

Daringly, she closed her eyes and took off in a sprint, ignoring the pain in her ankle from landing on it, and hoped to God that she made it through the door before he could grab her.

 

[Malicious Lullaby]

The minute she passed out, he caught her before she could fall. PIcking her up in a cradle carry, he stepped over the dead body of the fat male and he walked out of the bar and to the car he 'borrowed.' He put her in the front passenger seat and he reclined it back so that she could lay down. Shutting the door, he got into the driver's seat and he buckled up, turning the engine on but glanced over at her. Poor girl. He shook his head and then drove off from the bar, illegally speeding back to the New York. He wouldn't get them back until day time of the next day but it was no matter. He could some time without sleep.

during the ride as he did slow down a bit, he looked over to her. She seemed to be going rigid and he couldn't really do much since he was already trying to get her back to the school, to get her to the basement for some observation and to sew up that gash. it could get infected if it wasn't tended to immediately and well that's how bigger health problems started. He wasn't about to let that happen to her.

Hours flew by, Logan was growing drowsy but he kept fighting the urge to pull over and take a nap and pushed through. He was almost there. He'd get her into the basement hospital room in time. That was the thing about him. He was always so determined. He was a pure heart, very good natured but definitely ill-tempered and when someone needed help, he wanted to help. He felt useless and guilty when he couldn't save Jean. Felt weak when he couldn't prevent Xavier's death and even though he always fought with Scott a lot, especially because of their mutual feelings towards Jean--and the fact that she always chose Scott when she too wanted him--he still wished he could have stopped Jean.

It pained him to kill her but if he had just done what she wanted in the first place, a lot of people wouldn't have died. Though things happened for a reason. Perhaps he never really got over Jean's death. Every night when he'd sleep he'd always see her, dead in his arms after he killed her otherwise she would have not stopped killing. Such power. Such a beautiful woman. All to waste. she didn't deserve that fate. He shook his head, trying to hi mind of that thought. right now his main attention was to this girl and to get her help. He was very determined and for once he had a feeling he would be able to help since the last person he helped was Rogue. Now it would be this woman.

-------------------------------------------------

Having arrived back at the school, he carried her to the basement, ignoring people who seemed to be murmuring at who Logan brought back. He even ignore storm who seemed to be trying to interrogate him, but he kept on walking, his face that of his usual furrowed brow and angry face.

Once in the basement, he placed the young female down on the cushioned metal table and he hooked up some IV's on her[the kind that jean had on logan when he was brought to the school in the first movie] and got what was necessary for her bruise and her gash under her eye. Storm taught him well, shockingly. sitting on the edge of her bed, he began to stick up the gash after cleaning the wound. threading a needle and putting her under a small anesthesia, very light in this case but heavy enough to keep her knocked out and so she didn't feel the pain of him stitching her up. After he was done, he put a small band-aid over it, of course having first put antibiotics and worked on her bruises. Cleaning it up since it was bleeding just a tad bit and then put a smaller band-aid there.

He stood up, taking away the materials used and washed his hands. It was then she started going rigid again, and then...she turned invisible for the briefest moment. He didn't notice it until he turned after washing his hands to see her not there anymore. He looked around and stepping closer to the bed, he noticed she was still there. Her outline of her rather gorgeous body was visible. About to do something, once she turned back to normal, he stepped back and just leaned on the wall, waiting for her to come to.

Logan hated to wait. because then his mind wandered and when his mind wandered it was either to his unknown past or to all the deaths he witnessed during their last battle against Magneto. he hated it when his mind wandered off there. It was like nightmares when he was awake. Something always seemed to haunt him. things tended to linger and he wished they'd go but it always had such an impact on him he wished it didn't have. Sighing, he looked over to her, keeping his eye on her.

Seeing her awake suddenly, he stood upright more, rather than slumping against the wall--a very lazy way to lean. He pushed himself off the wall, taking a step towards her bed, waiting for her to calm down before he said or did anything. he wasn't going to hurt her. A guy who was going to rape her or murder her wouldn't have drove so many miles back to his home and then tend to her wounds.

Though once she fell and then ran off, he sighed and shook ihs head. "The hard way..." he grumbled and he ran after her, getting to her before she ran out the door, grabbing her arms. "Wait wait...wait." he grunted as he picked her up like she was a feather and sat her down on a chair, not caring if she was struggling. "Now...what is your name?" He asked.