Traditions

 

 

Category: Foof

 

Rating: PG/PG-13 a little suggestiveness

 

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

 

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

 

Summary: Logan needs some help with anniversary presents. Written for the WRFA's fifth Birthday :)

 

Author's notes: An odd merging of the WRFA's fifth Birthday/Anniversary and a list of anniversary gifts that was in my planner as part of those random yet important things they shove into those last few pages. I enjoyed reading all of the submissions for the Anibirthary Challenge a while ago, and now I'd like to contribute a fic this year to say THANKS for all the great fic and hard work from everyone to keep wrbeta and wrfa a wonderful place to work and lurk in. PS- not beta'd cause I wanted to get this out today!

 

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

 

*~@~*

 

For their first anniversary, Logan had no idea what to get Marie. While he knew her inside out, he knew most of all that she was a simple girl who didn't need, or even want, frills in her life. She'd smiled and happily drown in flowers, but always looked so sad when they started to wilt and she'd have to throw them away and put the vase back on the shelf, empty. She had a weakness for chocolate, but Logan noticed that she always added a few extra minutes to her usual workout when he'd buy her some, and something about that struck him as wrong. She didn't wear jewelry besides her wedding ring and his tags: she had a jewelry box full of beautiful pieces, but they only came out for special occasions.

 

Logan walked around the mall that first year, trying to ignore the migraine he was getting from the overstimulation of the god-forsaken place, and found nothing. He'd even broken down and asked Scooter, and One-Eye'd only come up with the usual, stating that even if he didn't think girls liked flowers and chocolate and jewelry, they did. He'd asked Kitty, Jubilee and Ororo, and gotten the same answer. He'd even gone as far as asking the Professor, begging him to just open his mind to Marie, hoping she'd be projecting some special wish. The Professor simply smiled and laughed a bit, telling him that knowing Marie, she'd be happy with anything Logan could think up.

 

Problem was, he couldn't think of anything. Finally, he stopped in a card shop, feeling completely out of place in the flowery and overly feminine shop and overwhelmed by the scent of fresh ink. He'd at least wanted to find a card for her. Maybe he could cook up some kind of romantic evening, even if it wasn't a tangible anniversary present. He walked around the shop, feeling the clerk's eyes on him as he headed over to the section labeled "Anniversary" in flowery pink and white. As he perused the cards, something caught his eye. Curious, he picked up the laminated list and smiled as he read it.

 

Traditional Anniversary Gifts

1 yr - Paper

2 yr - Cotton, Calico, Straw

3 yr - Leather

4 yr - Flowers, Fruit, Books, Linen, Silk

 

The list went on through the fifteenth year, then over to every five years after that. Some years gave him very good ideas, like the third year full of leather. His mouth grew dry at all the sexy little leather things he could buy for his Marie. He cleared his throat and went back to the list, eyeing it for a long time before heading over to the counter.

 

*~*~*

 

-Four Years Later-

 

Marie gazed out the window, watching the forest flying by as they drove down the mountain road. A soft smile formed on her face as she thought.

 

"So, are you going to tell me?" She asked, her voice slightly teasing.

 

"Nope," Logan answered, smirking and biting down on his cigar as he steered through a sharp curve.

 

"Fine." She faked a huff and turned away from him, though her left hand still rested on his knee.

 

Logan took the cigar out of his mouth, putting the smoldering stub in the ash tray. "When have I ever disappointed you?" He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it before he let it rest back on his knee, both hands back on the wheel to navigate the winding road.

 

"Never." She smiled and leaned back, thinking of their last four anniversaries.

 

The first one she'd returned to their suite after he'd sent her out all day to find it covered in paper. The desk was covered in expensive looking sets of handmade paper, cards, and envelopes engraved with her name at the top. All around the room were origami flowers and roses, some made with stems and some just strewn on every surface. Her vases were filled with long stemmed red paper roses, some of which she still had to this day, and the bed was covered in cut out paper rose petals.

He'd caught her eye from the doorway, holding two glasses of champagne. "First Anniversary: Paper. I would have lit candles, too, but I think that would just be asking for trouble."

 

The next year, cotton, he'd bought her a beautiful dress for their night out and obscenely expensive Egyptian cotton sheets with a thread count so high it felt like sleeping on a cloud.

 

Year three brought her a big black box, a note, and a room with no Logan.  She was to put on what was in the box and meet him in the garage. Inside the box was the softest leather she'd ever felt, fashioned into a pair of skin tight pants and a vest, with a pair of heeled boots for good measure. She'd shimmied into the outfit, with nothing between her and the leather, and headed down to the garage. After Logan regained the ability to breathe he pulled her onto the back of his motorcycle, whisking her away onto the open road.

 

Last year had been a laundry list of little gifts she'd gotten throughout the day. She'd woken up to the sight of four dozen red roses in vases all around the room. Logan had treated her to breakfast in bed with a bowl of exotic fruits. She blushed in the car, remembering that morning; she'd never wanted to get out of bed. That afternoon she'd found three first edition books of poetry on her desk by authors she'd loved for ages. He'd wrapped her in luxurious new towels after the bubble bath he'd drawn for her, then dressed her in a dark green silk nightgown. Which, she smiled again at the thought, hadn't been on her very long.

 

And here they were, in year five. That first year he'd told her about the list when she'd asked him what made him fashion hundreds of paper roses. Each year it was a struggle not to look up a list of traditional anniversary presents: she loved the surprise, and his creativity most of all. In fact, she'd been absolutely livid when some of her friends had the audacity to claim that paper roses were a cop out of actually having to buy her something. After she gave them a thorough lecture of what was and was not only appropriate but also romantic, she stomped away. Only when she was back in their room, looking at the flowers they had yet to clean up, did she remember why she shouldn't care what anyone else thought: even if her closest friends didn't truly understand her, Logan did. It was how he knew that paper roses would mean more to her than chocolate she had to work off in the gym or jewelry that she wouldn't wear that often.

 

Marie watched the landscape roll by, smiling. As much as she loved the gifts, she'd grown to love the tradition more. After year two, when she'd gotten him a box of Cuban cigars and a new leather jacket, she'd confessed to him she didn't think she could keep up with his extravagant gifts. He'd laughed and held her tight. "You're all the gift I need," he'd said, and she started to tear up at his words. "Besides, paper and cotton ain't exactly amazing gifts. Cigars, now that's a gift."

 

"Ok," Marie said, breaking the silence in the car. "I give up, where are we going?"

 

Logan rolled the car to a stop inside a hidden dirt driveway, a long, winding path through the forest still in front of them. "Here." Logan smirked, then got out of the car. She laughed and followed as he popped the trunk, picking a filled duffel out before joining her on the path.

 

"And here is...?"

"You'll see." Logan was as secretive as ever, and Marie loved it. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they started down the path. They walked in contented silence for what seemed like forever, but was only actually a half mile before Logan took her by the hand and led her off the path. He stopped in a small clearing, turning her to face him, a huge grin on his face.

 

"Fifth Anniversary..." Marie smiled, knowing her surprise was close at hand, hoping to prompt him.

 

"Wood." Logan shrugged, his grin still there.

 

"Yes, Sugar, we're in the woods." She shook her head and hugged him.

 

"No, Marie. The fifth anniversary is the wooden anniversary." She blushed and pulled away at his little laugh.

 

"So, we're picnicking in the woods?  Camping out?" Marie walked around the clearing before stopping and leaning back against a tree, lifting the hem of her shirt, "Going au natural in nature?" She licked her lips as Logan stalked over to her, pinning her against the tree with a searing kiss.

 

"I'm supposed to be giving you wood, Darlin', not the other way around." He was breathless, forcing himself to not ravish her right where they stood.

 

"Can't we do both?" she asked, letting her fingertips run over his parted lips. Logan moaned and pushed into her, his lips moving over hers in a rush of possessive passion.  Reluctantly he pulled his lips away, catching his breath as he buried his head in her hair.

 

"Let me go first then," he said, his breath a whisper. She could feel the smirk on his face against her skin. After a moment he pulled away, and took her by the hand, scooping up the duffel and pulling her through some thick underbrush.

 

"Logan, I..." Marie stopped dead as they walked into another clearing, this one far larger. In the center was a large home, fashioned in the style of a log cabin but obviously of modern construction, with a big red bow on the front door. Logan wrapped his arms around her from behind, squeezing tight.

 

"Is this..." She stuttered, turning in his embrace.

 

"Ours." He smiled and shrugged.

 

"You... this is..."

 

Logan smiled as he slipped a key into one of her hands. "Happy Anniversary, Darlin'."