THE DEAL

"What the hell are you playing at, Raven?" Logan snarled.

Raven Darkholme was wearing the form of a young, gray-eyed, and strikingly attractive brunette. The body and face had originally belonged to a young Czech actress whose budding career was prematurely terminated in a alcohol-fueled car accident. It was a useful, attractive form that Raven found particularly handy when she wanted to look harmless - or for a certain type of seduction.

Raven was wearing a tiny strapless dress and high heels - both of which were completely out of place in the typically seedy bar in which she had found Logan. But the way she was dressed wasn't a mistake. Raven wanted it to be as clear as possible that she wasn't carrying any weapons.

Of course, she hadn't fooled Logan as to who she really was. His sense of smell was far too good for that. But then again, Raven hadn't planned on deceiving Logan.

"I'm not looking for a fight," Raven answered carefully.

Logan said nothing as he suspiciously eyed her. He was still sitting on his barstool, a beer gripped in his right hand. But he was tense and ready and Raven knew that he was quite capable of exploding into a frenzy of truly horrendous violence if she didn't handle this correctly. Raven could fight on the same level as Logan - at least for a while - but that wasn't why she was here.

"So what do you want?" Logan finally responded.

"A dry martini. With extra olives," Raven replied evenly. Then she sat on the barstool next to Logan.

Logan looked deep into Raven's eyes. Then the barest trace of a smile flickered over his face.

"You heard the lady," Logan said to the portly bartender - who had been openly gawking at the confrontation between Logan and Raven. Breaking from his reverie with a startled blink of his eyes, the bartender immediately went to work. Within a minute, a stemmed glass appeared in front of Raven. She twirled it experimentally, watching the olives swirl around the rim of the glass, and then took an appreciative drink.

Then Raven gave the bartender a long, level look. He immediately decided that it was time to tend another part of the bar.

Superficially, Logan looked like he had relaxed. But Raven knew he was still dangerously alert. While apparently keeping his attention on Raven, she could tell from the way he was occasionally tilting his head from side-to-side that he was checking out the bar with his enhanced senses - trying to determine if Raven had any confederates nearby.

"I'm alone," Raven announced calmly.

"If that's true, then that ain't very smart of you," Logan answered just as calmly. "So why are you here?"

"Business." Raven answered very flatly. "I want to make a trade."

Logan's eyes narrowed.

"If you give me some information, I'll give you something you want," Raven continued. "But before you ask, let me make something clear. What I want has nothing to do with the X-Men, won't reflect back on you or them in any way, and can't possibly be used for operational purposes by anyone hostile to any NATO or NATO-allied nation."

Logan snorted, "What kind of information would that be?"

"The details of the CIA mission in Vietnam that you and Creed were on back in mid-1967 - in June, to be precise."

That seemed to actually surprise Logan. After a brief pause, he gave Raven a calculating look.

"What makes you think I remember anything about it?" he said.

Raven looked disgusted, "Oh, come on, Logan! When the word got out that you'd finally recovered your memory, it was like somebody had set off a nuke in the intelligence world! Spook agencies on four continents panicked. Archives were burned, facilities destroyed, and some high-profile people dug very deep holes, crawled in, and pulled the holes in after them. Hell, there were even a few suicides. It looks like you really do know where the bodies are buried, Logan - sometimes literally."

Logan shrugged, "Maybe. But what you're asking about is ancient history, darling. The '67 mission was just part of a larger operation - we were helping the Hmong hunt down VC cadre in the central highlands. Eventually, that became a part of the Phoenix Project. That's more-or-less common knowledge and the day-to-day stuff doesn't really amount to much."

"I've got a client who wants the details that only you or Creed can provide," Raven said calmly. "And I'm not in a mood to try tracking down Creed."

Logan smiled, "Yeah, I guess talking to Creed would be a problem, wouldn't it? So, who the hell is your client? Does someone in Vietnam want to know what happened to a long-lost relative? Or is it a reporter trying to make one last buck selling out more innocent people to those bastards in Hanoi?"

"I don't talk about my clients," Raven snapped back at Logan. "And since there's nothing really new or interesting about the information, then you won't mind providing it."

Logan grinned at Raven and shook his head in amazement, "And just why the hell should I do that? We ain't exactly friends, Raven."

"If you help me, I'll give you something you want. Something you need," Raven replied quietly.

A disgusted look appeared on Logan's face. He took a drink from his beer, and then he slammed it back onto the bar.

"Like what?" he said contemptuously. "Money? I know where Himmler stashed his gold, sweetie. Power? I don't want or need more than what I've got. Answers? Like you said, my memory is back - and those are all the answers I ever wanted. Family? They live in a school not too far from here. Sex? I've been known to have some luck with that every now and then. So just what the hell do you have that I want, Raven?"

Raven waited for Logan to run out of steam. Then she carefully reached for her tiny black purse. It was sitting on the bar next to her drink.

Logan tensed. Raven immediately froze with her hand on the purse's clasp.

"It's okay," Raven said evenly. Logan was pretty good at sensing when people were lying or telling the truth. She was depending on that.

Logan nodded, but the look in his eyes told Raven to be very careful.

Reaching inside the purse. Raven pulled out a small, squarish, bottle. Then she carefully unscrewed the cap and set it on the bar.

The perfume wasn't particularly expensive, but it was subtle while also being crisp and striking. It was an excellent buy for a woman with good taste and a less-than-champagne budget.

As the scent washed over Logan, he let out a long breath and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes again, Jean was sitting next to him. Her scent was still subtly off, of course. But the perfume - Jean's favorite - was covering a lot of that. Despite himself, Logan had to admire Raven's skill. She had managed to catch that small, gray imperfection in the emerald green of Jean's left eye. And also the very tiny, very faded, scar above her right eyebrow. And the lipstick was the exact shade Jean used to wear. Raven even knew the way Jean would tilt her head and smile...

"I oughta kill you for this," Logan heard himself say. But he could hear the hollowness of his own threat.

"Look, Logan... yeah, I've lied to you and everyone else when I had to, but have you ever known me to break my word when I actually gave it?" Raven asked.

Logan shook his head. He was still gazing carefully into Jean's... Raven's... face. Looking for a mistake. Any mistake at all.

"Then here's my promise to you," Raven continued. "You give me what I want and I'll give you Jean. A week together with her. And I'll do everything I can to make it perfect for you."

Logan didn't respond at first. He simply stared at Raven.

"Get out," Logan finally growled.

Without saying another word, Raven finished her drink and tossed a business card on the bar. Then she walked away, using her teeth to remove the olives from the toothpick that had been in her martini.

All the business card had on it was a phone number and an email address. Logan contemplated the card as he finished his beer.

Raven was driving south on I-684 when her cell phone rang. She was pretty sure who was calling, but for some reason she found herself hesitating to answer. It wasn't until after the fifth ring that she pulled the phone out of her purse and flipped it open.

"Hello?" she said into the phone.

"How do you want to do this?" Logan said emotionlessly.

Raven did her best to keep her voice business-only, "I'll send you some questions by special delivery - they'll arrive at the mansion tomorrow evening. You email me the answers, using the address on the card that I left with you. If I like the answers, I'll let you know. Then we can make arrangements."

"Deal," Logan replied. He didn't bother to make any threats. He didn't have to. Raven knew it would suicidally stupid to try to cross him. Particularly about this.

The connection died. With her eyes fixed on the road, Raven put the phone back in her purse. As she expertly passed a truck, Raven wondered if she was making a smart move, or a huge mistake.

Logan was as good as his word. His responses to her questions were almost eerily complete - and the parts that could be cross-checked were confirmed by matching evidence from sources in Washington and Hanoi. So Logan wasn't faking anything. Not that Raven had expected him to try.

The data that Raven was looking for was immediately obvious in Logan's answers. Actually, Logan had correctly guessed what Raven was doing. Her client was an elderly and powerful official in the Vietnamese government. During the war against the Americans, he had lost a younger brother, who had been an agent in the North Vietnamese intelligence service. In the decades after the war, the old man became very rich in a manner that had more to do with the teachings of Al Capone than Karl Marx. And now the old man was willing to pay very well - millions in fact - to find out what had happened to his brother.

The answer was right there in Logan's reply - in the second paragraph of the fourth question. Creed had captured, interrogated, and then disposed of the man. Of course, that was the polite way of saying that Creed had tortured him to death. And the poor bastard had helplessly spilled everything he knew.

Raven sighed. It hadn't been a very noble death - Creed had a talent for stripping every trace of humanity from his victims. She was going to have decide how much she was going to tell her client.

And she was going to have to pay Logan what she owed him.

Getting clothes that Jean Grey had once actually worn wasn't easy. However, that was the kind of thing that Raven did - and did well. Her skill was all about verisimilitude and she didn't like failure. Raven had long ago realized that it didn't matter if she had the body just right, the face flawless, the voice perfect, and the mannerisms beyond question, if she was dealing with someone like Logan. Or, for that matter, a dozen other potential targets who also had super-sensitive senses of one sort or another. She had to be able to fool more than the just the eye and ear.

So Raven had paid someone in the Salem Center thrift store to keep an eye out for Jean Grey. And whenever Jean dropped off some clothes, Raven eventually got them. Then they had been carefully stored for the day when they might become useful.

That day was now.

The float-plane dropped Raven off at a pier that jutted out into a flawless lake. A canoe was tied off at the pier. The cabin was hundreds of miles from civilization. Endless expanses of pine trees marched off into a distance that was framed by white-topped, gray and black mountains. The sky was an impossible blue, flecked with only a few, sparse clouds.

It was a gorgeous location and a beautiful day, Raven admitted to herself as she got out of the plane. Raven was Jean, of course, and she was wearing a short black dress, a green blouse, and a pair of sandals - all once originally owned by Jean. Raven had also strategically dabbed Jean's perfume onto her body, being careful not to overdo it.

Logan was waiting for her on the pier.

"Jeanie..." he said quietly, his eyes drinking her in.

"Hi, Logan," Raven answered with a smile. "Thanks for inviting me."

A long few seconds passed as Logan tried to absorb the situation. His face was oddly expressionless - as if a smile was something to think about before he actually gave it a try. Then Logan nodded and waved in the general direction of the cabin.

"Let's get you settled in," he said. "Then I'll show you around the place."

As they walked together towards the cabin, the float plane roared towards the center of the lake and then took off.

The cabin was spartan, but well kept. The interior of the cabin was a single large room. A fireplace dominated most of one wall, and shelves spanned another wall. A brand new, honest-to-God, oil lantern was sitting on a rough table. A few wooden chairs were scattered about. Furs - elk, bear and wolf mostly - decorated the walls and covered parts of the wooden floor. Raven sighed to herself as she spotted an outhouse through an unshuttered window.

To her amusement, Raven noticed that there was only one bed. As Logan tucked her small traveling bag into a nearby corner, Raven sat on the bed and bounced experimentally. Since she would be spending a lot of time in the bed, Raven figured she might as well get familiar with it.

"What now?" Raven asked archly. There was the barest hint of a smile on her face as she toyed with the top button of her blouse.

Logan didn't react like she expected.

"You still haven't seen all o' the place yet," he said as he opened the cabin door and held it ajar.

They were several strenuous hours into their hike when they reached the far-side of the lake. Raven quickly realized that the thick tree cover was muting much of the terrain, hiding a strikingly rugged array of hills, ledges, gullies, and streams. On the far-side of the lake, they paused at a low, rumbling, waterfall. A pair of suspicious deer bolted into the treeline as they approached.

Peering across the lake, Raven thought she could make out the pier that marked Logan's cabin. So far, they hadn't seen another human being.

"Where does your property end?" Raven asked curiously, still looking across the lake towards Logan's cabin.

Logan shrugged and pointed in the opposite direction at a bare, granite knob that was barely visible above the trees beyond the waterfall, "That's the western boundary. The eastern boundary is about a mile-and-a-half on the other side of the cabin. The north and south sides are between a mile and two miles from the lakeshore - the lines aren't real regular."

The landmark in question was much deeper in the woods. Raven made a quick mental estimate of the size of Logan's property and came up with a number of acres that was so large that she immediately did a quick re-check of her math. Raven charged six figures for intelligence assignments and light wetwork - and even more for assassinations that involved major security. And she was pretty sure she couldn't even begin to afford this.

Looking at Logan, Raven allowed herself to break character for just a moment.

"You weren't kidding about Himmler's gold, were you?"

Logan cocked his head at her. "No," he replied.

"I'm going to have to raise my rates," Raven added thoughtfully.

The sun was getting low on the horizon when they re-entered the clearing that contained Logan's cabin. Despite herself - Raven's taste in entertainment ran more towards exclusive nightclubs and elegantly beautiful young women - Raven had to admit that she had enjoyed the hike. It was the sort of thing she normally didn't do, and it had been just enough of a physical challenge to be interesting.

"Maybe we better see about dinner," Logan said as he peered at the sun.

Raven frowned in surprise, but she didn't object It wasn't really that late in the day. However, this was Logan's party and she was trying to cooperate.

There were a pair of rabbits caught in nearby snares. Logan retrieved the rabbits and Raven immediately took charge of them. Raven wasn't an outdoors enthusiast, but she knew the basics. So she skinned and dressed the hares as Logan wandered through the woods, gathering a generous helping of wild onions and some kind of tuber that Raven didn't recognize.

Off hand, Raven didn't have a clue how Jean would have reacted to finding herself saddled with a butchering job. However, it was a given that Jean had received survival training, so Raven just went with her gut and looked mildly disgusted while she did her share of the work. That wasn't hard, since it was Raven's actual reaction.

Logan wrapped the tubers and onions into a bundle of some kind of woven material, and then buried them in a firepit. After that, he efficiently built a low fire over the buried vegetables. Once he was done, Raven impaled the rabbits on wooden spits and propped them up over the fire.

"Logan, you really do know how to show a girl a good time," Raven said as she sat next to the fire, watching Logan cook and wiping blood from her hands on a sparse patch of grass.

Logan flicked an amused look in her direction, but otherwise held his peace as he occasionally adjusted the spits. The process took a lot more time than ordering Chinese takeout, or chowing down on military rations as Raven normally did when she was in the field. Raven finally understood why they began so early.

Much to her surprise, Raven found herself enjoying the meal. But they ate with their fingers and there weren't exactly any napkins around. So dinner was a messy and greasy process.

The temperature was cool, but not yet cold, and Raven decided that it was time to take the initiative. Walking towards the lake, she began peeling off her clothes. Swimming would be a problem since Raven would lose the perfume and the residual scent of Jean provided by the clothes she was no longer wearing. But it was pretty much a given that she couldn't keep her mask up constantly, and she should be able to find a way to keep Logan's attention away from the change in her scent.

On the edge of the pier, Raven looked over her shoulder at Logan. The reddish-orange sun hanging low on the sky seemed to set her hair afire, and the smooth, white curves of her flesh coyly shadowed her nude body. Logan was slowly following Raven. His shirt was gone, abandoned on the ground behind him, and he was unbuckling his belt as he studied Raven's body. Then Raven gave Logan a wide grin that silently said, "Catch me if you can", and she dove into the lake.

They splashed around the edge of the shore like kids, only stopping after the sun set and the first stars came out. Shivering in the cool night air, Logan and Raven finally got out of the lake and began gathering up their clothes.

Logan handed Raven her blouse. Then she stepped closer to him. So close that Raven's nipples - the ones that were smaller and tighter than her real ones - brushed against Logan's chest hair. She was taller than Logan - an inch or so taller than her real height - but somehow that didn't seem even vaguely awkward.

Off hand, neither one of them could tell who initiated the kiss.

Back inside the cabin, they toweled the water from each other. Then Logan bundled Raven into bed - wrapping soft, wool blankets around her nude body. They kissed again, long and hungry, as Raven lay on the bed and Logan sat next to her.

And then Logan left. Raven watched the cabin door close behind him. After a half-hour or so, it became obvious that he wasn't returning. Alone in the bed, Raven stared at the cabin door and wondered what kind of game Logan was playing.

The next morning, Logan acted as if nothing was amiss and Raven decided to play along. They took the small canoe and explored the lake, spending most of the afternoon fishing in a small cove. The fishing was good and for dinner they cooked over-sized bass on a rocky beach. The beach was scattered with water-rounded, brown-and-red fragments of petrified wood. Raven collected several prime pieces with the idea of having them made into jewelry when she went home.

The next day, they hiked deeper into the foothills, following ancient game trails. Logan particularly enjoyed stalking the deer they encountered and wasn't particularly surprised to find out that Raven was almost as stealthy as he was.

The day after that, they hiked to the edge of the mountains themselves and went rock-climbing in a windswept landscape of fractured sedimentary plates that jutted horizontally out of the ground. On the way back to the cabin, Logan showed Raven a large archaeological site. It was located on the rocky crest of a tall, commanding hill. Logan was of the opinion that the site had been a position from which ancient hunters had watched and waited for deer and elk who were wandering their way downslope towards water. Much to her delight, Raven found a flawless, side-notched arrowhead made of semi-translucent, blue-gray chalcedony. Logan immediately cut some thin leather strips from his jacket and used the arrowhead to make a necklace for Raven.

They panned for gold on the fifth day and found almost nothing.

The sixth day they explored a nearby cave complex, using pine torches for light.

The last day they repeated the hike around the lake - only this time much slower and with lots of long stops to swim and quietly observe the wildlife.

Throughout the week, Logan and Raven kissed and touched. They even cuddled next to one another for afternoon naps in the warm sunlight. But every night, Raven found herself alone in the cabin's bed.

The morning of the eighth day, they were sitting together on the pier as they waited for the float plane.

"It's been a good week," Raven said quietly. She had a small pile of smooth stones sitting next to her. Every now and then, Raven would skip one across the mirror-smooth water of the lake.

"Glad you liked it," Logan said quietly. He was smoking one of his less-virulent cigars. Fortunately, Raven didn't mind. She'd always liked cigar smoke. In fact, she'd been known to smoke a cigar herself every now-and-then. Usually after a successful assassination job.

Raven hesitated and then said, "If you don't mind, I'm going to turn back into myself."

Logan nodded agreeably, "Go ahead."

And then Jean was gone and Raven was sitting next to Logan. Logan didn't react. It was as if nothing unusual had happened.

Raven picked up another stone and skimmed it across the lake. She counted seven bounces.

"Mind if I ask you a question?" Raven asked calmly, keeping her eyes on the lake.

"Sure."

"I figured we'd be spending a lot of time together in bed," Raven said. "I guess I'm surprised that didn't happen."

Logan smiled at Raven, "You feeling insulted?"

Raven snorted, "No. Just curious."

Logan shrugged, "I never had a chance to just spend some time alone with Jean. And to show her my world - the world I wanted us to have someday. This was my chance to do that. And I guess that was more important to me than anything else."

Raven nodded slowly, then said, "Okay. I can see that. You know, I always figured the thing between you and Jean was actually mostly about you and Summers playing alpha-male games. Jean was just a way for you to score points off of him. Maybe I've become too cynical."

Logan didn't say anything.

"But hey," Raven continued, "I'm going to say something that's no bullshit. Is that okay?"

Taking the cigar from his mouth, Logan nodded slowly.

Raven took a deep breath, "I liked this. All of this. And I think Jean would have liked it, too."

Logan put the cigar back in his mouth, but he didn't say anything.

"But that damned outhouse has to go," Raven continued. "And some hot running-water would be appreciated."

Logan blinked and then smiled as he glanced sideways at Raven, "Do you know what actual plumbing would cost out here?"

"Cash in some more of that Nazi gold," Raven growled inexorably. "I'm not kidding, Logan. Someday you're going to find someone else. Someone that you'll want to show this place. Have a real bathroom by then."

Logan chuckled, but he didn't make any promises.

But something finally unfroze between them and they were now holding hands as Raven leaned her head against Logan's shoulder. Raven closed her eyes as Logan slowly ran his other hand through her hair.

Off in the distance, there was the drone of an aircraft.