Trying Normal

April 17, 2019:

Logan and Selina meet up for a date. Selina gets a new bike.

Westchester

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions: Cyclops

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Logan's cleaned up for him, which probably isn't saying much by most standards. He's got on cologne and he's made a semblance of an attempt to comb his hair. He's shaved recently, but is already starting to get a five o'clock shadow an hour later. Bloody regeneration.

He hears the approach of the car and heads down the front steps to greet Selina's arrival, a couple of cigars shoved into the pocket of his jacket as he hops down, a cowboy hat pushed back on his head a bit, "Hey there, darlin'. Always good to see yer pretty face again. I see you found yer way alright."

*

"I'd hope so. Isn't my first time here, honey. Remember?" Selina greets, pulling a biker helmet off her head and giving her hair a loose shake. Setting her kickstand, she dismounts her Harley and smiles his way. "James," she murmurs with soft disappointment, "you shaved?" Reaching up, she brushes along his jaw line with her gloved fingers. "Don't have to do that, kitten. You know I love fur." Smiling adoringly, she leans in and gives his face a tender kiss, leaving a mark of wine red in its wake.

"You sure you can play hooky to go out with me tonight?"

*

Logan grins, "Yeah, I know, bit I figure you wanna have me lookin' at least a little respectable 'fore we go out around decent folks," he grins. "And you never know. You dames sometimes have a kooky sense of direction," he teases.

He capturse her hand, squeezing her fingers as he nods, "I ain't got no chaperones on me. I'm not a schoolkid, even if I hang around plenty of time around one. Guess that makes me the creepy old guy."

*

"Oh, honey…I'm not decent folk." She smirks, giving him another kiss and hooking fingers without hesitation. "I didn't even plan where to go. Staying out of Gotham tonight, at least for a bit, so are there any dives you enjoy? Harry's was it?" Chuckling, she shakes her head. "I'm just picking on you for working at a school. Granted, it's something I'm proud about, too. Speaking of, how's Billy doing? Is he fitting in well since you guys took him in?"

*

Logan nods, "He's doin' pretty good. A little shy, but that's t'be expected, I reckon. He'll adjust. They got a good way with kids around here. Don't look at me, I mostly just scare 'em into line," he says.

He walks with her, hand in hand, leaning against the side of the car, "Harry's ain't bad, although it ain't exactly classy. Just a juke joint, same as a dozen others, although the chili fries are good."

*

"I'm glad. He's a good kid, and what with you having Ne already, you're doing well with Gotham kids. I may have more to bring here, if that's ok. They can't stay in that city, it's weird enough already." Walking along with him, she eyes her bike, the helmet still held by one hand. "You suggested a date, you just never said where. I'm in riding leathers so we don't have to go pretend to be fancy." Her face twists slightly at the very idea of it, then again, that was how the pair met by chance. "Can I keep my bike somewhere?"

*

Logan gestures towards a garage, "We got plenty o' room over there. Slim's got a few collector bikes, although I ain't sure I want ya to see 'em. He's got a habit o' likin' the same girls as me an' I already got dibs on you," he says.

"We can do whatever we like. Even put together a picnic, if you want to see a little o' nature. This place is pretty special, thataways. Pretty birds, a pond, trees that smell like spring."

*

"Collector bikes you say?" Smirking, she only now pulls her hand away from his own, starting to walk her bike in the direction of the garage. "Slim? I…usually don't like men with those types of nicknames. Don't worry, handsome. I'm all yours now." A glance back should he be following, she offers a smile. "Silly, it is spring. I do like nature sometimes. Not use to it, honestly, but you making a picnic is adorable. Do we need to head inside? Get some stuff made?"

*

Logan nods, "Cyclops. A tall drink o' water with eyes that'll blast ya through a wall. Kind of got a stick up his ass, especially as regards to me. He an' I don't tend to get along much. I respect 'im, but he's just kind of a dick."

"You wait here, then, an' I'll put somethin' together. I can't take much credit, the pantry's always loaded here." he runs over quickly and ducks in a side door to the kitchen, moving to gather some some meat and cheese and bread, along with a quick dip down the stairs to snag a bottle of wine and a six pack of beer out of the fridge.

*

He's not gone for long, surely, and his senses more than easily let him know what's happening around him and close by. The smell of food was there, wine, too, and then a flush of energy before the rolling, rumbling of a classic powerhouse calls out in the garage. Once he returns, he'll find the black clad woman with a pleased smiles on her face, hand twisting and revving the engine of the 60s American Indian.

"Hey, sweetheart. Hop on!"

*

Logan can't help but laugh. He should probably reprimand her or tell her to put it back, but he isn't going to and she knows it. Instead, he climbs on behind her, straddling and wrapping his arms around her waist as he hooks the picnic basket around his arm.

"Head up the sideroad there just outside the gates, up the hilly way. Got a pretty sweet overlook in the hills."

*

"You got it." She moves the bike a step closer to her own, slipping on her helmet and then zipping out of the garage. Rolling down the drive and away from the mansion proper. She knew he'd hold on, and that he'd be fine if something happened. Leaning in with the curves, she goes where he directs and drives them deeper into the wilderness and hills.

"I'm coming back for more! Fair warning!" She yells back, letting him know she fully intended to keep the bike between their thighs.

*

Logan grins, "I hear ya, sister. I never saw ya, I don't know ya, I definitely didn't leave the security off just in case you wanted to grab somethin' fer the road," he teases.

He guides her easily enough, pointing over her shoulder down a side road until they pull into a little gravel roundabout just near the edge of a large hill, "Up there in that copse o' trees oughtta do us just fine."

*

Catwoman pulls to a stop and sets her foot down, keeping them steady. Slowly, she kicks off the engine and the silence settles. Pulling her helmet off once more, she sighs and looks down at the bike, giving its handlebars a caress. "Pretty. I'm keeping you." She decides, waiting for Logan to move off her new bike and then moving herself. Hooking her helmet against it, she looks around and takes in a deep breath. "Holy…so that's what fresh air really smells like, hmm?"

*

Logan unstraddles, "Well, it's what it smells like to you. I can prob'ly smell a hundred things you can't but, unlike in the city, they're all mostly nice. Even the bad smells in nature serve a purpose, they ain't just…ruin," he says.

"I still like the way you smell better," he says, leading through a few trees and onto a clearing before he lays out the blanket he brought, the high view looking down over the Westchester valley and the lazy river far below.

*

"You're adorable. Anyone tell you that?" Following after, she glances away and around them until the blanket is down. Pulling off her gloves and unzipping her jacket, she gives herself a bit of room, taking a seat and eyeing down the valley below. "I'm not use to the green is all. We have parks and the like, I've visited resorts but this is just…It's so beautiful, James." Falling silent, the smile that rests on her face is now genuine more so than cheeky or playful.

*

Logan considers, "A time or two, now and again. Sometimes even when they're sober," he says.

He lays her head against his shoulder and takes in the view, giving her fingers a squeeze before he speaks again. "So's you, y'know. These have always been myf avorite places. The wild places, although this one's only barely that. I should show you real deep wilderness sometime."

*

"Not sure I could hack it out there, baby. I'm a city girl and that's my jungle." She warns, even as she holds his hand, her other arm wrapping around the low of his back. More silence settles as her face twitches in thought. "I, huh…" She swallows, closing her eyes and taking a breath; deep in and steady out. "I should have warned you earlier, I don't know how to normal. About people, I mean. Like this. Last guy I liked, well…I've never fell for the normal guys anyway. At least psychos are committed, right?" Smirking, she swallows again, her grip tightening.

"I loved a man I thought was just like me. Someone split, right down the center, wearing their darker part on the outside. I tried. We tried, over and over again. Things just never worked. I know I've told you this before, but I have to talk about it, I guess." A pause, "Tell me to stop if you want."

*

Logan shakes his head, "No need. I got my history, too. Lots more of it, given I been around a long time. Normal ain't somethin' I do exactly either. When you got a skeleton full o' metal and you don't die like other folks, well…things tend to get a little hairy. I need a woman with me that can handle that, that ain't gonna be scared by it. I used to think I was better off alone, but I don't think that no more. It makes me unbalanced, it makes me…well, scary. Someone to care about means more'n I knew."

"And I get bein'…tied to someone. There's a woman like that, at least to me, although I don't know if I ever meant so much to her. Past is past. An' truth is, I'm past bein' the jealous type. You like bein' with me? THat's good enough in my book. I ain't tryin' to tie you down."

*

"That's not what I meant, though. I loved him, but we'd never make it. We never did when we tried. I thought we were perfect, and we gave something to each other that was missing. We pushed and filled in those holes." Pausing, she shrugs, her eyes finally opening and settling on his profile. "Guess there's always another crack in the road you never noticed before. I'm not saying I want to be with him anymore. Or anyone for that matter. Well, other than you that is. A friend of mine suggested as much, said I deserved whatever happy meant and I was trying to tell him the same thing." Her grip tightens and she smiles.

"I'm just not sure how people like us function in this type of situation. How do we do nice?"

*

Logan shrugs, "We wing it. I improvise everythin' anyway. I don't usually know what I'm doin', but I'm okay with muddlin' through. We can figure it out as we go along," he says.

"We don't gotta live up to no standards but our own. Now, c'mere and get yerself a sandwich that I spent a whole…two minutes makin' for ya. I hope ya don't mind mustard."

*

"Hey, I'm trying to have a talk here." She smiles, pinching at his side before giggling and pulling back. Smooching his cheek, she brushes the stain away before digging at the basket. Opening it up, she hunts about, claiming a sandwich and chewing away. They were an older pair, not young or freckly faced, apple cheeked. They were older, life worn, and often smiling like idiots when around one another.

Chewing, she looks across from taking a bite and gives him a smile, a tiny drop of mustard left on the edge of her mouth.

*

Logan reaches over and catches the dab on his thumb, bringing it to his mouth and sucking the tang of it. "You can talk and eat, you're a big girl. I believe in ya," he teases.

"I guess my basic feelin' is pretty simple. I like you. I think you like me. We enjoy each other when we can and don't fret too much 'bout all the…mess the world is. We do our part to clean it up when we can, but you and me can be a safe place, where we don't have to deal with all that…muck."

*

Growling backing, she continues eating and reaches for a drink. Dusting off the crumbs, she eyes toward the valley until her drink is down. "You think? I love your company, James. Probably like you more than I should already given we just started this time. Life's short, hmm?" Shrugging, she sips and sighs. Digging into the basket again, she hunts for something sweet.

"Safe place. Sounds nice." A smile his way, she shuffles across the blanket, sitting closer and resting her head on his shoulder and taking in the aroma of jacket and cologne. "You feel safe when you're in Gotham? I mean, man like you would…" Licking her lips, she sits back enough to look his way. "Can you show me? What's in your hands, I mean…if that's ok?"

*

He packed in a few brownies baked by someone else, thankfully. He wouldn't know what to do, even with a boxed mix.

He considers her question and nods, "Guess you never really got much of a good look," he says. He can understand her being curious. He flexes his left hand and his claws pop free, slicing through the skin and coming out to display their gleaming, razor-sharp length.

"I'm safe pretty much anywhere, darlin'. They don't come much more dangerous'n me, truth be told. That ain't me braggin', that's just fact."

*

Catwoman jumps slightly as those claws come out. Looking from them, to his face, she sets the brownie down and reaches over. Her fingers settle atop the blades, moving down their tops and their sides, ever so careful of their sharp undersides. Down more, she caresses over his knuckles and then down and into the void made along his hands. With the blades out, they felt almost normal now in shape and space.

"I haven't see you in action. Part of me wants to and another part doesn't. I believe you, though." Looking into his face, her head cants to the side. "Does that hurt?"

*

Logan meets her eyes, "Every damn time," he admits. "I ain't sure if I want you to see me. Some girls like it. Gets the blood up, all excitin'. But some don't ever look at me the same again. They only see a killer, once I cut loose where they can see. I think you can handle it…but I ain't eager to put it to the test. I wanna keep ya long as I'm able," he says, allowing her nails to slide over his skin before he retracts the claws back into his forearms.

*

Frowning, she nods, both hands kneading against his forearm as the claws are gone. Her eyes linger, watching the break of his flesh turn into a solid, untouched mass without a wound to show the display. She massages for a moment longer, lifting his hand and kissing each knukle and webbing between his fingers in kind.

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