The Wolverine & The Black Cat

39 // Claw Me, Claw Thee

C H A P T E R   39 :   C L A W   M E ,   C L A W   T H E E

"Distant, everything is scattered
When your mind is shattered and torn apart
In an instant, I can be indifferent
The blame is always shifted from the start

Leafless treetops in the snow
Views of death and bitter cold

Sun shines through an open window
Close the curtains real slow to hide the light
But in time, maybe I can change it
We'll find someone who feels the same as me"

Felicia's POV

Present time

I slept all the way while James drove, missing our entire road trip until I felt his gentle hand on my shoulder.

"We're here." He said, and I looked around to have my eyes graced with a peaceful landscape of a farm with a small wooden house on a hill. "This is a safehouse I've used once or twice. It has great visibility towards every direction so we can see if someone's coming from afar."

"How far are we?" I asked, making my way beside him towards the front door after we quickly scanned the perimeter for intruders.

"About one hundred and thirty miles away from Xavier's School."

I gulped as if I had a whole planet stuck on my throat. I've never been as far away from him as now, both physically and mentally.

"We can properly rest and plan the attack here, but if you're having doubts, Felicia, we can..."

"No, let's do this. For me, for you, for everyone like us. They don't get to hurt anyone anymore." I looked at him, a smile solidifying on my lips. "Claw me, claw thee."

James nodded in appreciation, a smile setting in his kaleidoscopic eyes.

"But first, let me take a shower. Do you have some clothes I can use?" I asked, and James scratched his nose, courteously embarrassed.

"We have enough food to last us a few weeks, but I only have male clothes here, and I'm sure they're too large. Do you mind?"

Sometimes it was easy forgetting this man came from another time.

"Nope." I winked at him. "I'm a lady no matter what I wear."

***

After a much-needed shower, I went into the kitchen to find James with an apron and a towel thrown over his shoulder, his back turned to me as he stirred some eggs. I sat down at the table silently to watch him work, until the delicious scent made my stomach growl loudly and he turned around abruptly, almost dropping the frying pan to the floor and cursing in Russian.

"There's not many people that can sneak up on me like that." He said, narrowing his eyes in an accusatory way.

I shot him a toothy smile to counteract his cranky mood. "Sorry, couldn't resist." I gestured towards the plates of food scattered on the table, from buttery toasts to pancakes with strawberry jam. "You made all this?"

He gave me a shy smile as he flipped the scrambled eggs from the pan to the plates. "Figured you'd still be hungry. Help yourself."

"You're a real gentleman, Bucky." It was only after I took a big bite out of the toast that I noticed the strange look on his face and realized what I had said. "Shit, sorry, I didn't—"

"It's okay." He cut with a small smile. "It feels good to hear that again."

"I saw in the Smithsonian in DC that people used to call you Bucky. I remember thinking it was a weirdly cute nickname for a Sergeant."