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*
The next day, May's going to get to see Logan again, pretty early on. He's out in front of her brownstone and digging up a dead tree, carefully pruning around the roots. Sitting on the pavement next to him is a small sapling, a hearty pine that won't be troubled by pesky things like cold.
He grins as he sees her coming out of the door in the morning, raising a gloved hand and waving, "Figured I'd get a start on helpin' out around the neighborhood," he says, using a spade carefully. He could dig it up in seconds with his claws, but he's not ready to scare folks if he doesn't need.
*
That morning, May was an early riser. Preparing breakfast for the ill neighbor and her husband, sending the kid off to school with someone else because she herself wasn't feeling that well, and needing a bit of time to herself so that she could recover and recoup. There were sounds, rumors that a man was outside planting a tree, and May decided to look out the window to see.. well, Logan. While she doesn't know the man from Sam, she really couldn't forget the way that he looked.
So it was downstairs she went, dressed down for the day, her hair in that messy bun as she opens the door to the apartment building, her coat loosely hung upon her shoulders as she tugs it closed as soon as the air hits. As he speaks, a warm and tired smile draws upon her features, her hand lifting to hide a cough that even completes the sound of phlegm in her lungs.
"Wouldn't it be wise to wait until the ground thaws?" She calls out.
*
Logan shakes his head, "Ain't necessary. The underground pipes here keep the ground warm enough that it never gets a proper freeze. An' I might not be available come spring. Gotta do things when you can do 'em. Just cause they're a little harder don't mean they don't need doin'," he says.
He steps over for a moment and opens up his thermos, taking a long sip of the bitter-black coffee inside, wincing a bit as it his the back of his throat, "Well, it's hot, I'll give it that," he says with a wink.
*
May smiles warmly to him as she finally looks around, another rush of cold air hitting her as she gestures around. "Come inside when you're done. I have more breakfast still warm on the stove." Though she did have to make another batch of eggs. No one likes cold eggs unless they were hard boiled. But with that spoken, she retreats into the apartment building, leaving the door unlocked as she heads into her own little home, that door left unlocked as well.
*
Logan doesn't take long, getting the thing jammed into place in about fifteen minutes. He comes inside, taking off his gloves and his hat, shoving them away in his pockets. He would make a fuss about not wanting to impose but, in truth, he does so he sees no need to fib about it. "Smells awful good," he says, flaring his hypersensitive nostrils at the cooking smells.
*
"Ut!" May calls out. "Shoes off at the door!"
But naturally it did smell good, there was sausage, bacon, homemade biscuits and eggs. The toast was even cut at an angle and lightly buttered and delicious. A small scoop of Jam upon the side of the plate, and a fresh cup of coffee was made to replace the one in the thermos. This one was made with a bit of milk, sugar, a hint of cinnamon and chocolate powder.
"Have a seat."
It was enjoyable at least, carrying the plate to the food tray that was in the main room, right in front of the large sitting sofa and near the television.
*
Logan takes the seat and the food gratefully. He isn't shy about eating it either, the food getting quickly devoured, mingled together. He layers some of the bacon and eggs onto the biscuit, inventing the breakfast sandwich just a bit early.
"I tell ya, with your cookin', you could probably get workmen to fix this whole damn street up, just for a chance to have a spot o' breakfast," he grins.
*
"I thought about it." May doesn't mind the fact that he eats as he does. It was telling of how he ate. If it were slow, he didn't enjoy the taste, but fast? Yes. It was like a chef's dream. She settles down upon the couch nearby, her own cup of coffee on hand as she picks up a half made blanket, laying it upon her lap as she issues a few wheezing coughs with a little bit of a pause.
"Mm. Think I'm coming down with something." She says quietly, clearing her throat as she begins to use her fingers to weave and manually knit. "So tomorrow.." She starts off, looking up towards him with a slightly coy gaze. "..I was thinking of visiting Central Park. I volunteered to walk a neighbors dog while his family is at work, it would be a good way for me to work up a nice routine. Would you like to accompany me?"
*
Logan sips on his coffee and sits back for a moment. He can't help but smile at the offer and he nods in agreement, "Be happy to. Truth is, I haven't spent much time in the park," he says. And, when he did, the memories weren't so great. His mind's still hazy about what happened there months ago, with a demon's taint riding his soul, fogging his senses. Making him bleed.
Best not to linger on that.
"Be my civic duty anyway, wouldn't it? We can't have lovely ladies like you wandering through the park unprotected."
*
And leave it to May to bring that up.
"Yes.." She agrees quietly. "I.. wasn't as close to Central Park as I am now. But I remember all of the.. the monsters that lingered around. It was.. terrifying to say the least." She nods slightly, continuing with her rocking and weaving.. then smiles. "I do often times wonder how that happened.. like.. what horrible person could do such a thing to such a beautiful area." She shakes her head. "If I had any chance to get in front of that person I'd give them a what for.."
*
Logan looks off in the distance for a moment, "I bet you would at that,' he says softly. "World's full of bad things, darlin'. Ain't no sense in lingerin' over 'em, cause it don't slow down the next one from comin' down the tracks," he says. "Best hope is to make due with the good we can find and squeeze it for everything it's worth."
*
"I'm not lingering.." She doesn't protest. "..but sometimes I wish I were like those few who could actually -do- something. I really hated the person who did that.. and I don't hate easily, Mr. Logan." She sighs a little. "What purpose would that serve to bring hell on earth? I .. don't think anything was worth -that- much destruction." She sniffs a little, sinching off a knot as the blanket itself was held upright. "More coffee?"
*
Logan considers, "Sometimes people don't always know the consequences. Not everything happens for a reason, I don't think. It's nice to imagine it does, but…just ain't the way the real world works. Least in my experience," he says.
He pushes up, "I can fetch it myself," he says, walking over to her, "You want a refill?" he says, reaching over to take her mug.
*
This gives May a little bit of a pause. "Well. I suppose you're right." She lets it go, studying the blanket before she flips it over, leaning just a touch to grasp the strips of yarn that she's weaved. "Mmhm. If you wouldn't mind. A little bit of cinnamon, milk, chocolate powder.. spoonful of sugar.." The thought of them feeling as if they were an old couple gives her a moments pause.. but.. they were just friends. It was a welcomed feeling. "Please.. thank you.."
*
Just friends they might be, but the warmth of regard in his gaze for the woman in the chair is anything but platonic. "Always welcome, darlin'," he says. He might not be a natural in the kitchen, but he can follow instructions well enough. The coffee might not be precisely to her standard, but it's nice and hot and sweet. He brings her cup and takes a sip of his own before he resumes his seat on the sofa, making sure she can see there's room for her there, if she wants it. But he doesn't push.
*
Once he returns from the coffee, she drops the blanket quick enough to take a few little sips. He didn't add anything in with a heavy hand, but either way the mixture was delicious enough for her to take a few more sips with a close of her eyes. As he settles onto the sofa, her gaze lifts towards him, a little grin playing upon her lips as she cuts the awkwardness with a clearing of her throat. "Here, let me clear this for you." She places the blanket aside, moving forward with little shuffles as she struggles to rise, then takes those few little paces to retrieve the food tray which was pulled away, the empty plate taken. Little parts of domestic bliss, but even still, what could she talk about with him? "Do you have any children, Mr. Logan?"
*
Logan catches her wrist as she finishes putting those few things away, bringing her down to sit next to him with a gentle insistence. He turns his body to face her a bit more and finally nods, "I have a son, although I haven't seen him in some time. A man grown, he is, and I wasn't around for much of it. Things got complicated after his mother died. I…well, I can't really blame anyone but myself for losing him for so long. But, as you can imagine, he ain't exactly best pleased with me,' he shrugs."
*
She eeps quietly as he tugs her down upon the couch, her body shifting a little to face his as she fights the need to issue a blush like before. It was too bad, her coffee was upon the other side of the room, so she wouldn't be sitting for long. "I.. am sorry to hear that." She does reach out to lightly grasp his hand. "Have you ever thought of reaching out to him? Attempting to make amends?"
*
Logan feels her fingers in his and he grips her hand as gently as he can manage, which isn't as terribly gentle as he wishes it was. Maybe a side effect of those impossible bones, that his hand is so very firm.
"Some, maybe," he says. "But not soon, I don't think, and not easily. Lot of bad road," he says. The truth is, there's a chance he might kill the boy if he came across him for the moment. "For right now, he's probably better off finding his own way. It's hard sometimes, but it's what I had to do."
*
He could possibly feel her hand tremble within his. She was a little bit clamy, the first few stages of a fever that usually plagues women her age, even the closeness would allow him to hear the slight wheeze she held in her lungs. The coffee made it just a touch better..
"I.. see." She purses her lips. "I didn't have the luxury of having children myself. When.. my brother in law died, we took his son in and raised him. I felt that it was enough for me."
*
Logan nods slightly, "A lucky boy, I'm sure," he says. He doesn't note that he can smell the kid around the place, the lingering hints of his teenage desperation, everything from the sweaty clothes to the bubble gum he stuck on the undersides of furniture. The world was very rich to his impossible senses, but filtering such things was part of the trick of it.
He keeps her fingers in his, his thumb stroking along her palm, "How much ya care about someone ain't always much to do with how yer related."
*
May shakes her head, drawing in a slight sigh.. which turns into a yawn. "No no.. I'm lucky.." She says quietly, one leg drawn up and her skirts covering whatever visible parts of her leg soon after, her own hand drawn away from his. "I'm aware, Mr. Logan.." She murmurs sleepily. "As you say, this isn't my first rodeo.." She chuckles a little, allowing her eyes to close. She was so tired, and the morning hasn't even passed into the afternoon just yet.
*
Logan will let her fall asleep, quietly. When she drifts off, he'll draw the blanket up, tug it under her chin. He'll pour a glass of water and leave it aside for her. Even add a slice of lemon to the edge, an impossibly clean and perfect cut that could only be done with the sharpest of knives.
Whether she feels the lingering warmth of the kiss to her forehead, he couldn't really say. But he could still feel it on his lips when he went back to his quiet, dark little apartment and went to take a nap for himself…
*