Want | The Forbidden Fruit | One More Dream | Yester Life: My Destiny | Yester Life: Souls Collide | Yester Year: His Phantom Lover | Yester Life: This Prison Of Skin part 1 of 2 | Yester Life: This Prison Of Skin 2 | Title:Yester Life: Glimpses Of The Past | Title:Yester Life: The Gossamer Thread Of Time | Title:Yester Life: An Easing Of The Soul | Title: Yester Life: Taking Back My Soul | The Cleanse | Touched | Rogue-aholic | Mind Games | Unconventional


AfterHours Fanfic
Title:Yester Life: Glimpses Of The Past

Title:Yester Life: Glimpses Of The Past
Subject: Wolverine/Rogue non-brotherly/sisterly
love. Which means that I might explore feelings of a sexual nature so...
Rating: Okay, all I can say is shower scene. Which I have been wanting to
write since I saw his naked back in the movie. I am going to explore my
thoughts on hygene here so NC-17. Enjoy!
Author: Kia Mira
Summary: Wolverine/Logan tries to understand the thing's he read in theat
FEEDBACK!!!! at kia_mira@bellsouth.net
Disclaimer: If I owned them I wouldn't be posting here. LOL so just keep
that in mind.

Glimpses Of The Past

There was a tap on the door, but he ignored it. He sat arms crossed
staring at the picture lying in front of him on the table. He had gotten up
and looked again at her sketches when he found this black and white photo
among the things inside the file.

The man staring up at him from the digital photograph was himself. The
original picture at odds with its computer reproduction. Which resulted in a
not very clear copy. Though the photo had an over cast of grey that seemed
to soften the younger man's feature's his eyes were still the same peircing

The light tapping sounded again, but he ignored it. His mind still
grappling with the awesome discoveries made in this file. It was very thick
concidering the shortness of time they had to gather information. Shifting
his eyes to the charcohl drawing he had thought unfinished he realized she
had not been drawing him after all.

At least not the him that he was now. It was the him of his past life.
She had been drawing the face she had seen during one of her sessions. The
face of the man she had called husband. They had several transcripts from
earlier sessions. Notes written from Regressor's point of view.

Regressor noted that young Marie had traveled with her parents as her
father searched for work in the Canadian Rockies. She had seen the young
Logan as he worked at the lumber mill in town. And from what Regressor could
gather had fallen in love the moment his eyes found hers in the crowded

Judging by the notes it looked as though the two had shared a whirlwind
courtship and were married after only a week of having set eyes on each

The tapping had become a more insistant knock and still Login was loath
to allow anyone into this private world. In the end the choice was taken
from him as Jean opened the door and leaned in. He knew it was her only
because of her scent. He never moved his eyes from the pictures before him.

"Login?" she spoke quietly almost tenatively. He didn't acknowledge her. He
only shifted the pages around until he found the death certificates and the
newspaper artical that had been found for Marie and her child.

He read the contents of the newspaper artical out loud for Jean. "After
finding out her child was stillborn Marie Woolf widow of Captian Login Woolf
jumped from the fourth floor of the army hospital she was being treated at."

Jean was quiet. She didn't have the answers he wanted to hear. Putting
everything back into the folder her shut it. Then his eyes grimly met
She felt uncomfortable. He watched as she overted her eyes and moved to sit
one of the school issue jogging suits on the dresser.

"I understand you might be a little confused right now."

"A little confused? When I arrived here this afternoon I didn't think I had
a soul. I didn't believe anyone had a soul, but this," he pushed the file
across the table., "this tells me I do have a soul. And that, that soul has
been in exsistance for more than one life time. That if this file is correct
that my soul has traveled through at least one lifetime with Rogue. I doubt
the adjective little can discribe my confusion."

"Tomorrow Regressor will talk with you. She will be able to help you
understand." She said as she glanced about the room taking in its rumpled
appearence. "I came to tell you that supper is going to be served soon."

"I'm not hungry." he said and stood up from the chair. "I'm tired." he said
effectivily dismissing her.

"Of course." her eyes glancing over the room again. "Were you looking for

He almost mentioned his search but decided against it. His brain bringing
forth a bit of information that had been pushed from his mind upon seeing
Rogue's drawings.

"The Professor said she made tapes."

"Yes, they are under the bed." Jean gestured toward the slightly mussed bed.

"Uhm." he grunted.

"I'll leave you to rest."

"Yeah." he said as she turned. He thought about asking her to let him know
if Rogue needed him, but he figured that would be a given and he really just
wanted to be alone right now.

So he watched her go and he shut the door behind her. Then he went to the
bed and pulled a shoe box out from under it. He set it on the nightstand and
went about stripping his jeans and flannel shirt from his muscular body.
After he had stripped down completely he walked into the bathroom. It had
been nearly a week since his last bath and he was sure he was starting to
smell as bad as day old road kill.

Flipping the light on her glanced around the room. The counter was
covered with bottles of oil, shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel. After a
quick glance at them he yanked the shower door open. He started the shower
making it as hot as he could then he looked around for something to wash
himself with. He found a soft cloth under the sink and then looked at the
soaps and things littering the counter.

'Which one did she use?', he wondered. Several had been opened and a few
wear only half full. He picked a few of them up and sniffed. Flowery. Was
the word that came to mind. He had about decided to just do without soap
when a bottle to the back of the cluttercaught his eye. It was almost empty
more so than the others. Picking it up he brought it to his nose. And was
surprised by the masculine scent that filled his nostrals. Turning the
bottle he read the label aloud. "Woodland for men." froaning he took if to
the shower and stepped under the heated flow. He growled at the pleasant
sensation. Tipping his head from side to side ha revealed int he satisfying

Unscrewing the lid from the bottle he emptied its contents into his palm.
Then stepping away from the pelting water he worked the gel into a lather.
His mind puzzled by the masculine scent that was hidden among her other more
flowery scents.

For a moment he ignored the possiblity of another male using this show or
this gel. Instead he focused on her. Had she used this gel? Had she stood
beneath the warm water and worked the gel into a lather? He closed his eyes.
His hands moving on his body as he worked the lather over his chest. Had her
hands moved slowly over her own chest as she imagined they were that of her
lover. No not lover. Had she imagined that her hands were his. That he had
firmly glided his strong fingers over her breasts soaping them. Had her
nipples tightened at the thought? Did she stand completely still as she
stroked her hands from breast to thigh imagining they were his. His hands
sweeping low on her thighs yet not touching that part of her that ached for
him? He unconsciously mimicked his thoughts on his own body. Had she
imagined that his hands had worked their way down the outer side of her
slinder legs to her ankles and then slowly sensuosly skimming up the
insides. Had she leaned heavily against the wall as he found her. As he
leaned against the wall now? Did she cry out as his fingers stroked her body
for the first time? His fingers driving her over the edge of insanity into
oblivion. Shattering her body and then righting it in the space of moments
as she slid slowly down to her knees beneath the sensual onslaught of the
warm water.

Login came back to himself as the water turned cool. He was heaving for
breath his satiated body loose and lethargic. It took all his power to pull
himself up and move on woobly legs out of the show.

"What the hell was that!" he gruffly ground out as he turned off the water
and began to towel dry. 'That his sadistic self chimed in was one of the
most intense experiences of your pathetic life and you were alone.'

"Shut up!" he commanded that voice. He didn't want to think about what that
meant. 'Or the fact that you were fantasizing about a seventeen year old

Trying to tune his thoughts out he stepped into the sweat pants and then
headed for the bedroom again. Pulling back the blanket and sheet he climbed
in. Then lifted the lid on the shoe box. Inside was a portable audio cassett
recorder with earphones. Picking it up he pulled out the tape marked, TAPE
ONE in bold script.

Putting the tape in the walkman and the earpieces on her lay back
against the soft pillows . Her scent drifted up through his sences.
Breathing deepily he pushed the play button and closed his eyes as Rogue's
gentle voice filtered through the tiny speakers.

"Hello, Logan. I guess if you are listenin' to this somethin' must have
happened. I want to start by sayin' that I miss you. I realize that some of
what I am going to say on this tape and any of the others that I see fit tou
record might be shockin' to you." there was a small rueful chuckle. "No less
shockin' than findin' a run away stowed away on your trailer."

"I'm goin' to be tapin' this over a period of time. I am goin' to talk to
Professor X about a new theory I read in a journal last night. I have been
plagued by dreams since the day you left. They started out small but got
worse and worse. I nearly killed a girl about three weeks after you left. So
I asked for your room. They thought it was because I wanted solitude, and it
was some, but it was more because I needed to be near you. I don't remember
much about the dreams. Just flashes. Mixed with emotions. I see you lyin' on
a table. Strapped down so you can't move and some one is drawin' lines on
you. I can feel your confusion. Then I see the men standin' near and they
are wearin' Nazi uniforms. And the confusion turned to a spine chillin'
fear. They started workin' on you and then it was like you were under water.
I did a little research on them that night in the library. I understand what
made you afraid. That isn't anythang to be ashamed of. Could that be when
they put that metal inside you? Who know's. Maybe I can find out. I gotta go
to sleep now. Professor X is expectin' me in class bright and early." there
was the sound of fumbling and then a click. It was followed immediatly by
another click and he heard her say. "I almost forgot. Good night login. I'll
tape more tomorrow." then another click and silence.

Logan reached over and turned the machine off then he removed the
earphones and set the machine on the nightstand. His body tired after all
the emotional termoil he had dealt with today. Mental stress was a sure fire
way to wear yourself out. It only took him a few moments to root around for
a comfortable position and drift into a fitful sleep.

Have to think about the right title for the next part, but I will let you
all know.

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