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Assignment: Amy

by Erik's Eternal Bride

Summary: A brilliant computer programmer is nearly kidnapped by Toad and taken to the Xavier Institute until they can figure out why the Brotherhood wants her so badly. Is she a key part in Magneto's latest effort to destroy humanity? Perhaps she will even find love. Logan/OC

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They were in the library, again. Logan couldn't help but remember what had happened the last time they had both been in the library, it had ended with him carrying her out to the kitchen. It caused a smile to creep across his face, he was able to supress it after a moment. She didn't see, she was too absorbed in her book, The Phantom of the Opera again.

She was reading a book, and he was reading a magazine, a motorcycle magazine. Actually reading wouldn't be that good of a word to describe his activity, he was more just looking at the pictures and wondering what type of bike he could get if he traded in Scott's bike. Not that Scott would even know about it, until he came home with the new mortorcycle. He nearly laughed out loud at the look on his face.

That guy was spending way too much time with that bike, he was making so many upgrades on it that Logan would make a fortune if he sold it. It was a good idea in theory, given how much he disliked the guy, but he could never do it. That guy had been through enough in the past year. That thought brought his mind back to a certian red haired doctor. He really shouldn't go there, but he did anyway. It had been over a year but whenever he thought about her it made the pain come back fresh.

"Are you okay?" Amy asked, she must have noticed the pained expression on his face.

"Yeah, I was just thinking," he replied, looking back down at his magazine.

"Can't have been very good thoughts," she said in a concerned tone.

"No, not very good ones at all," he said sadly, turning the page.

"Want to talk about it?' she asked hopefully.

"Nah, I'm okay, happened a while ago," he said, not looking up from his magazine.

"Okay," she said and returned to her book. "Then what do you feel like talking about?"

"We have to talk about someting?" he replied, messing with her. "I wasn't aware of that,"

"Unless you want to sit in silence," she stated. "I didn't figure you the type to be able to keep his mouth shut for very long,"

"Well I didn't figure ya to be the type to go very long without making some kinda smart remark," he retorted.

"So where does that leave us?" she asked.

"Annoyed maybe," he said, having completely forgotten his magazine.

"Perhaps," she smiled. "Or maybe two people who talk entirely too much,"

"Better than silence," he said, smiling now too.

"Yeah, but then there's the danger of saying too much,"

"Or too little,"

"Of course,"

---

Standing in the kitchen she can't help but miss her labtop. Her nice thin black notebook. They have computers here, but almost her entire life is on her labtop. Most people would find that pathetic, to have some of the most important things in your life be on a computer. But she felt that it was sensible not to be scattered all over an entire house, having it all in one place was better. Then again it could be lost. Or left in an office when a certian green mutant decided that kidnapping her would be a good idea.

They were having dinner, Logan and her, having decided to wait until after all of the students had finished grabbing something to eat. And she was starving, about ready to eat the damn table. She was making them something, sometimes she felt so domestic, and she had settled on making hot dogs after remembering Logan mentioning that he liked them earlier that day.

"So what are ya makin'?" the mutant in question asked, coming up behind her and peering over her shoulder. "Hog dogs? Yum,"

"You said you liked them," she replied, ripping open the packaging.

"That's sweet of ya, makin' something because I said I liked it," he remarked, laughing a little. "You'd make a good housewife,"

"I have no intention of being a housewife, good or otherwise," she turned around to put the hot dogs in the microwave and coming face to face to Logan.

"Relax," he said putting his hand on her upper arm. "It was a compliment,"

"Not a very good one," she replied, placing the dogs in the microwave.

"Maybe not, I'm not very good at giving them," he smiled.

She smiled and snickered, turning back around to get plates. Her arm stretched out towords the cabnet to grab them, she was average height for a woman but the cabnet was really high up and she just couldn't reach the cursed plates.

"Damn plates," she said, frustrated.

"I'll get them," Logan reached over her head to grab hold of the plates, his upper body pressed against Amy's back. She held her breath enjoying the contact between them, even if two layers of clothing seperated them. She could even smell him, he smelled like trees, his scent conjured up images of a winter forest with perhaps a wolf howling or some such nonsense.

He pulled down two of the elusive plates, placing them in front of her, still pressed up against her.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"Ya scared?" he asked, placing his hand on her side. "Of me?"

"No," she replied, leaning back into his chest.

BAMF! The loud teleporting noise caused both of them to recoil and seperate from each other as a blue mutant appeared in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly. "Am I interrupting something, Logan?"

"No," he replied quickly.

"Olivia just wanted me to get her some soda," he explained.

"Here," Logan said, throwing the soda at him, it hit his chest and he caught it.

"Danka," and with that he bamfed out.

Amy reached into another cupboard and pulled out some hot dog buns and mustard and ketcup, placing them neatly on the countertop next to the plates. The microwave made it's annoying ding! noise and stated that the hot dogs were done.

"I'll get them," he repeated his line from before and grabbed the plates, taking them over to the microwave and placing the plump hot dogs on their surface. They rolled around a bit as he carryed them back down to the counter. "How many do you want?"

"Just one, please," she said, turning around to face him.

"Four for me then," he stated.

"You eat a lot," she commented, handing him four buns.

"You're very observant." he said, putting mustard and ketchup on the dogs.

"And you really shouldn't eat so much," she stated. "You might get a gut," she poked him in the stomach a couple of times. He grabbed her hand.

"Stop that," he said, still holding onto her hand. "No I wont,"

"How do you know?" she allowed him to keep her hand in his.

"I just wont. Drop it," he brought his face dangerously close to hers.

"You smell like cigars," she stated, smelling is breath.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she taunted him.

"Maybe I wont let you go until you tell me," he placed his hand on her stomach forching her against the edge of the countertop.

"What is it with you and keeping me prisoner?" she asked, not even bothering to try and get away.

"I'm a possesive guy," he said. "Now are ya going to tell me or not,"

"Why do you want to know do badly?" she asked, looking into his eyes.

"I don't really. It's just fun with mess with ya," he replied, letting her go and walking over to the table.

"You're very strange," she commented as she brought her dinner over to the table.

"I know," he replied.

"I wish I had my labtop," she stated, when she reached the table and sat down opposite of Logan.

"Where is it?" he asked, taking a large bite of one of his hot dogs.

"At my office," she replied, taking a much smaller bite of one of hers.

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully as a plan was already formulating in his mind.