Sharp

 

Category: Foof

Disclaimer: They're not mine- I'm a poor and having fun... take pity...

Distribution: my site, WRFA, anywhere else please ask first :)

Summary: Metal v. Adamantium, Foof style

Author's notes: A little scene that popped into my head while I was trying to figure out how I could write some foof. Guess I succeeded! This has been sitting on my hard drive forever, but I think it's basically done, and cute, so I decided to post. Not beta'd, cause I'm still in need of one. Any takers?

Feedback please at: [email protected] I love anything constructive! Blatant flames, however, will be disregarded and used to roast s'mores....

 

*~@~*

 

Marie padded barefoot through the small log cabin, dish towel slung over her shoulder as she finished sweeping the main room. Their house was small and quite cold when the wind started to howl through the valley, but the fireplaces kept it warm.

 

And Logan kept her warm.

 

She smiled at the thought as she reached down, sweeping into a dust pan before heading back into the kitchen.

 

Outside the snow was falling softly, adding to the inch or so that they already had on the ground. Logan thought they'd be snowed in this winter, and Marie found that she didn't mind so much. They'd fallen into a comfortable routine over the last few months and it gave her more peace than anything.

 

From the very minute she'd left home after her mutation manifested, Marie yearned for a home again more than anything. While Xavier's provided shelter and school and so many things she'd lacked while hitchhiking, it wasn't the home she longed for. That was something that it turned out only Logan could provide. The solitude and peacefulness of the cabin, however, called to the both of them.

 

She moved over to the stove, checking the roast, and felling quite domestic. She pulled it out of the oven, smiling. She looked around, not finding what she was looking for in the place where it was supposed to be. She looked out the small window onto the porch and smiled. He was busted.

 

Logan was sitting on the porch steps, his leather clad back to her, three sharp claws bared. Every so often she'd see the tip of the knife sharpener he was running over their edges: her brand new knife sharpener. Her third brand new knife sharpener in six weeks, in fact. He stopped, tensing, when he heard the creak of the door opening.

 

"You are so busted, Mister."

 

"Hey, Marie." He was busted, he knew it, but he refused to accept defeat.

 

"What are you doing with that?" She asked, walking onto the cold boards and falling sideways into his lap as he pulled his claws back in. She took the sharpener from him and inspected it.

 

"Well, I…" He pulled her legs closer to him and tucked her bare feet back in between his knees and the porch, shielding them from the wind.

 

"Sugar, what makes you think that my knife sharpener, my new knife sharpener, is going to sharpen your claws?" She ran her free hand through his hair, mussing it up before letting it rest against the back of his neck.

 

Nothing left to say, he grunted, cracking his neck as he smiled slyly. Marie simply laughed at him. "You and your claws! Seriously Sugar, you're worse than a girl!" She stood, taking the sharpener and declaring it officially unfit for use, as she dragged Logan up behind her.

 

"I hope those claws are sharp, 'cause now you're carving the roast!"