In the dark of night a lone man walked through the wet alleys of downtown Manhattan. His focus dead straight, there was nothing much for him here. This was a place of lost souls in a lost world. But he took a certain comfort in moments like this. The anonymity, everyone so caught up in their own affliction that barely a glance was given to him. Isolation and some form of temporary peace. Here no one judged him or hunted him or tempted the dreadful rages within him. What might have been a grin whispered across his weathered face, thinking: 'New York, newww yorrrkk.' He stopped and took in a whiff of the cold air, listened. A powerful hand flicked away the glowing stub of a spent cigar. It wasn't what he smelt that disturbed his senses but a sense of déjà vu.

A spindly girl suddenly ran out shadows, chased by monsters, men or the demons within her soul; he didn't know but this wasn't something to worry about. Blinded by fear she didn't even notice the imposing stranger, slamming into him. He tried to stop her resulting fall, but she reeled away from him, gripped by hysteria. Backing away into the shadows from the figure that towered over her. Through some fear-induced delirium she now saw him, something out of the Wild West, something mysterious, something fierce. And indeed, towering over her in a brown trench coat, his striking hair and sideburns flaring out almost bestial, the man named Logan looked like the angel of death incarnate. But it was the face that riveted her, so fearsome yet so compelling, and those burning eyes...She lifted her hands to shield herself from the man. But the weathered face suddenly softened and she knew him. At her wits end she almost choked with relief, tears welling in her eyes. "Help me."

There was crash behind them then. And the thugs that had been chasing her rounded a corner, blandishing the whole package of street weapons and bad attitude. One burly beast roared at Logan, pointing a spiked baseball bat at him.

"You's better get yer ass outta here pal, you do not want to fuck with us! You do not want to fuck with me! That beeyatch's comin with us. WooooWooooWoooooo."

Logan stood unmoving, he seemed not to have heard the man. Lightning streaked through massing thunderclouds above, illuminating his battle hardened face.

"Come get some." It was a whisper from the man named Logan but sounded more like a command. For a second they hesitated, overcome by the presence of this man. Then, suddenly charged by the drugs pumping through their twisted minds they came at him in a bull rush. The girl thought he was dead man and she next but what happened then was surreal. Logan moved with unnatural speed, spun and slammed into the oncoming press of steel and bodies with a savage grace. She screamed as a massive Dumpster slammed into the wall next to her, sparks erupting around her. Men were flying now, smashing into second storey apartment windows and trash heaps. She tried to see what was happening but all was movement, shadows and screams of pain. Lightning punctuating the slaughter in flashes of blue light. When it all settled Logan stood alone and once again undefeated. Not so much as a scratch, he seemed insulted at having to waste his time with punks like these. Only one of the gang members was still conscious and untouched, cowering behind a heap of twisted metal. The Wolverine spat upon the ground and the fool ran screaming into the night.

He turned from the carnage and walked to her, looked at her for a second, then stretched a hand out to her. Overcome with emotion she hurled herself into his hands, hugging him. Logan was taken off guard. For a moment he stood there undecided, then gently put a hand on her head. Wordlessly he took off his coat and put it on her shivering frame. The clouds were clearing now and the moonbeams bathed her face, he hadn't noticed how beautiful she was, catlike features. They walked together; saying nothing, into and down the neon lit madness of New York's nightlife. A strange couple in a strange, wonderful city. She seemed composed now, even confident. Occasionally looking at Logan, part adoration, part fear. "You came for me." She suddenly said. Logan looked quizzically at her, decided not to pursue the matter.

"You need a drink darlin, something warm. I know this place that'll do just fine."

She tried a smile. Logan smiled back. "What's your name?"

She merely looked back at him, said nothing, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. Logan grunted, continued walking.

"Ye old Canuckle inn." The words blazed in brilliant blue neon above the place. Logan walked passed a well dressed, skinny young fellow, gave him a nod. "The usual Sir?" the lad asked.

"You know it bub. Let's have somethin mild for the lady though." As always the Canuckle inn seemed radiated in a warm golden glow. The smells of barbecue and the sounds of laughter drifted through the place. They walked to a table nestled in a quite corner, by a window that looked out at the streets, where he pulled out a chair for her and sat down. They sat there in silence for a long time, a surprisingly comfortable one. Life in the Canuckle inn flowed and ebbed on easily about them. All seemingly enveloped in soothing shades of amber light and sound.

"I like this place, there aren't many places around with this feel, this welcoming atmosphere. Everyone is meant to have a place to rest.... A place they're meant to be." she said after a while.

"You're safe here girl, you'll have all the peace I can give." Logan felt a strange wave of empathy sweep over himself for this waif. He knew all too well the need and the endless search for peace in a hostile world. Logan didn't know why, but he felt at ease with her, as if he had known her for a long time. It was a strange and unusual emotion for him. She unsettled and appealed to him all at the same time. The skinny fellow brought over their drinks. "On the house for My Bacall and Bogart."

"Thanks kid."

"You come here often?" She asked Logan with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Guy that owns the place is an old friend. Like you said, one of the few places in the world you can have a drink without having ta rip someone a new one.... And an old pal always gets one on the house." He answered with a grin. Logan took a generous gulp of his vodka martini and pulled out a cigar, thinking for a second before putting it back. He grunted in satisfaction and took another swig, the next few minutes they spent quietly having their drinks, a strange wordless chemistry building between them. He looked her dead in the eye then, seemingly about to say something serious.

She seemed to read his mind. "You know I believe that nothing in this world happens by chance. Us meeting today.... It was meant to be Logan. Be it through these sad circumstances or a chance meeting in Central Park, it was always going to happen. I knew you would eventually come to me."

The Wolverine's right eyebrow raised quizzically.... He hadn't told her his name. Suppressing a sudden distrust he calmly asked her: "Why do you think destiny brought us together this cold night darlin?" She seemed to ponder the question for a time, distractedly stirring her coffee. Her lips opening to say something.

Logan sniffed the air...nothing, but then his nostrils suddenly flared. He turned to look outside the shop; the street had suddenly emptied. Strange shadows dancing at the edge of his perception through the suddenly forbidding night.

"Dear Logan I haven't come here to manipulate, to bring conflict or war. God knows we've seen enough of that in our crazy lives." he flinched as her hand touched his grizzled cheek, "those drunken fools before, nothing but pawns in the hands of fate. Delivering a knight.... To his queen." Logan looked once again into that beautiful face. It was vulnerable and tired.... She meant no harm. But the emotion that radiated from her sky blue eyes lanced into him like no physical blow ever had. Amazingly he found himself trusting her. Something deep inside told Logan she wasn't some telepath playing with his mind as he had begun to suspect. "I've seen your face a million times in my dreams."

"What you sayin girl, that you're my soul mate? I ain't got no time for love." His eyes turned to scan the streets again, widening as a neon sign erupted in a shower of sparks. "There's something out there..." The smells he was getting were all mixed up; Sabretooth, Omega Red or perhaps Ogun, he couldn't tell. The waif's eyes closed as the glass window suddenly exploded outward. Roaring, Logan opened up his adamantium claws and shielded the girl from the silvery shards of debris in one movement.

"What is this!!!" he roared to no one in particular. When he was sure she was okay he turned to look around the inn. To his amazement everyone had continued eating and drinking like nothing had happened. "You gotta be kiddin!" Logan squinted at the oblivious bunch. Everything had taken on a surreal quality. It was cold and raining outside but not a draft came in through that shattered window. The beautiful, mysterious waif sat at their table and stared at him, waiting for him. Despite it all at that moment Logan felt sheathed in warmth and comfort in that place. The Canuckle inn felt like heaven, and yet as he stepped out of the broken window into the cold street he could palpably feel an evil surging about him. Adamantium claws exploded from his left fist as he steeled himself for a fight, he had almost forgotten about the lady. Hulk...maybe Juggernaut; the shadows fleeting about in the darkness were suddenly massive. His senses were going crazy, he couldn't tell.

"There comes a moment in everyone's life when a chance is given and choice must be made. A moment so powerful that it can separate two people from space and time itself." Her voice was like that of an angel to his clouded mind. Logan turned to look at her. "Who are you?"

"I am peace, a once in a lifetime love. I offer myself to you freely and utterly." She walked up to him so close that their lips almost touched. A vision of beauty, she looked like cross between Liv Tyler and Lauren Bacall. But it was the love emanating from within her that was all enveloping, for indeed she was the perfect girl for this Wolverine. Logan had never been so attracted to a woman in his life. He turned as an explosion shook the entire block.

"What's the hell's out there?" he asked her.

"War, struggle, yet also love and joy. That wonderful thing we call life." Logan was confused, but instinctively, unable to control himself he took her into his arms and kissed her. She wrapped her hands around his head, returning the kiss. It seemed to last forever. But presently she slowly stepped backward into the inn and stood there.

"Will you come with me?" He suddenly understood; Perhaps God, fate, the powers that be had given this tortured warrior a fleeting chance. He didn't know why, didn't know if any of this was a dream and didn't care. They stood there for a very long time. The lady bathed in the golden light of the Canuckle inn, the Wolverine standing undecided in the rain. He knew a lifetime of joy and bliss waited not ten feet from him. With every bit of his heart he wanted to but knew he could not. "There's too much I have to do darlin, too many people that rely on me. I wish I...I.."

"I understand. When you're ready I'll be waiting for you." The lady of the inn smiled and gave Logan a wink

Logan smiled "Here's looking at you darlin."

He winked back and turned. "All roads to Rome you know, mines just going to be a little longer." The empty streets were suddenly teeming again, neon signs flaring about the Wolverine as he walked into the night.