No one was aware of the distinct sound of a motorcycle as it slowed and stopped. In fact no one raced to the door to see who rode in. Instead the mansion remained silent, dark, as the night wove her cloak about them, unwilling to surrender to the dawn.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the hallways as a solitary figure moved through the shadows. The sweet scent of tobacco filled the hallway as the smoke from the cigar curled around the intruder who moved steadily, almost desperately through the hallway.

The sudden sound of an alarm clock going off halted him and he stood motionless staring at a heavy wooden door for a few seconds before he turned and walked back down the hall toward the stairwell.

Lying wrapped in the sheets that had been rinsed and laundered but never really surrendered, Rogue lay staring out at the night sky as dawn slowly peeled back the darkness. Frowning slightly she sat upright suddenly at the familiar scent of tobacco smoke and old spice. Kicking off the blanket she stumbled to the door and jerked it open, uncaring of the way it slammed back into the wall.

Listening intently she heard Scott and Jean moving around in their room, heard the annoying buzz of Jubilee's alarm going off, but no sounds of life from beyond the dorm. With an angry curse she turned to go back into her room only to freeze at the worn slip of paper on the floor. Picking it up she glanced along the corridor carefully before opening it up and staring at her handwriting.

*The Professor said that it was normal to have gotten your nightmares but I've never revealed that it isn't your nightmares that haunt me. It's this sick, twisted desire to have the claws imbedded in my flesh, your fingers brushing against my breast, teasing it. The longer I lay in bed with the images, the sensations the closer I get, until I feel my body shatter into a thousand points of light and I sit up shaking, trembling, but its pleasure that washes over me.*

Closing her eyes she felt a tear slowly roll down her cheek even as the letter slipped from fingers suddenly numb. Moving toward the stairs she was barely aware of Jean Grey stepping out into the hallway instead she focused all her senses on finding the one person who'd held that letter.

Stalking slowly through the mansion she paused outside the door of the kitchen even as she stared at the sliver of light. Reaching up with one trembling hand she pushed it inward and stepped into the muted light from the fridge.

The denim encased rear that was clearly visible had her swallowing painfully before she moved further into the room. Hope flooded her heart as she bit her bottom lip to stop the sudden need to touch, to conquer the fear within her and finally take what she'd been wanting so desperately since Logan had left. Stopping a few feet away she watched as the all too familiar man hiding behind the fridge door slowly straightened, his dark eyes moving to settle on her.

"Logan," that one word seemed to open the floodgates of her pain and she moved toward him, uncaring of anything but the fact that he was there before her. Ignoring her fear, her uncertainty she could feel it being washed away by the rising torrent of desire and need that washed through her. Staring at him through eyes blurred by the tears silently falling she moved forward on legs weakened by her desire, her need.

"Marie," whispered through lips aching to kiss, to touch Logan stepped toward her his hands clenched as he stopped himself from reaching for her even as he felt the warmth of her body from where he stood. The soft, achingly familiar scent of her filled him as he stood breathing her in.

Like a drug that he couldn't give up her aroma mixed with his as they stood there staring at each other, uncertain what to do, what to say. Unaware of anything but each other, of the steady draw of desire that pulled at them, they moved slowly toward each other. Each breath pulling them closer to the brink of insanity, of life, of release from the prison they'd been locked into.

"I couldn't stop," Rogue whispered softly as she moved closer to him. "I couldn't make the memories, the feelings go away. I tried but it felt like I was losing myself that way. God Logan, I wanted to be so close to you. I want to be within you, want to be what you need, what you want..." she murmured painfully as one small hand crept up over his chest, fingers racing over cotton and flannel with desperate haste.

"You are," Logan gasped pulling her against him before dragging the edge of her lacy camisole over her face and kissing her with brutal intensity, hardly caring about the taste of lace and silk that was tangled with her. Pushing her backwards he never let up the pressure on her mouth, instead his tongue teased her lips, her tongue into a tentative duel that quickly flared like a wildfire. Teeth nipped at her lips, biting down as he kissed her awkwardly, passionately. His hands tangled in her hair, holding her steady as he plundered the warm, moisture of her mouth.

Hands rendered inept by need tore at the flannel shirts he wore, pushing them down his arms and onto the floor unnoticed, unwanted, breaking his grip on her head slightly. The soft ping of buttons hitting the walls and appliances were easily ignored, instead the only sounds that mattered where the soft, lust filled growls and moans that seemed to swell like a wave before crashing over them and stoking their need for each other.

Leather encased hands gripped bare flesh, hoisting her leg up around his thigh even as he ground forward, pushing his aching flesh against her. Her muted moan only made him burn a little more. Leaving her mouth for a moment his trailed a string of biting kisses down her jaw, her throat to settle on the pulse point beneath her collarbone. Nipping and suckling in his haste, his hands traced over her body, pausing when she gasped and teasing softly before he moved on.

"Please Logan," the soft, aching plea earned a soft growl and the tightening of fingers on her hips. A moment later her back slammed hard into the fridge making it rock back and forth. The sound of metal on metal barely registered past the moans and pants that they shared.

Quick, clumsy fingers tugged at his belt, at the buttons of his jeans even as his hands wrapped themselves in silk and cotton. The clunk of metal hitting the floor echoed in the silence of the kitchen as Rogue tossed Logan's belt across the room, uncaring of where it landed. Instead she focused on pulling up his shirts, getting her hands under them only to freeze suddenly as she realized she didn't have her gloves. Leaving his undershirt in place she disposed of the rest of the tangled mess of cotton, flannel, and leather with a soft, sad moan.

Arching into his hips she whimpered at the feel of his hot erection pressing against her. Shivering she shifted her hips, rolling them into his groin and gasping at the bolts of electricity that flowed through her pushing aside the regret at not being able to touch him. Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, she was barely aware of her head hitting the fridge repeatedly as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she felt the tension crest and break.

A strangled scream tore from her throat even as Logan raised a hand to muffle it, his fingers slipping into her mouth. Twirling her tongue around them, she suckled on the digits carelessly, her breath coming in ragged pants and gasps as she felt him grind against her again. With hands that trembled she pushed his jeans down, pushed aside that barrier and arched into him, "Please Logan. I...I... want you to take me. I need you to claim what's left of my soul," she whispered brokenly her voice holding a note she'd never heard before, a note she'd never believed she was capable of injecting into her voice.

Groaning at her words he nodded against her shoulder even as he traced a finger over the soft silk of her shorts. A quick, efficient movement of the tip of one claw and she was open to him, the scent of her desire, her arousal pouring over him like warm honey.

"Wallet," he grunted as he felt her hands on his jeans. A moment later the worn black leather was in her hands and opened. The roll of condoms he'd picked up on his way back to her was in her fingers and he took it from her rather clumsily. Frustration begin to pound at him as he tried to open one packet with wet leather, only to have her take it and rip it open with her teeth. Grinning at the move he noticed her rather impatient roll of the eyes before she stared into his with a look hot enough to melt adamantium.

"Hurry," Rogue panted softly, watching him roll the latex on with haste. Ignoring the pain of not being able to touch without it she sighed instead and focused instead on his touch as he moved into her until it didn't matter about skin to skin.

Without breaking eye contact, Logan thrust into her slowly. Moving carefully, steadily somehow knowing they needed to savor that first movement that joined them. Slowly, breath by breath they remained so in tuned with the other that when he broke through her barrier she barely flinched instead she whimpered with pleasure as he pressed her tighter to the fridge with his body.

Holding steady for a heartbeat Logan breathed her in, sucking in the scent of her acceptance, of her desire until he was lightheaded. Leaning forward, holding her to the appliance with his chest he withdrew almost completely, ignoring her protest filled whimper before thrusting forward hard, burying himself to the hilt within her.

Pulling the wet silk of her camisole back up over her chin he lowered his head and kissed her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and tangling with hers. Each moan, each whimper was muffled by his tongue that traced over hers, learning the secrets of her mouth with fierce intent.

Fingers wrapped in the dark strands of hair tugged none too gently drawing a slow growl from him even as he heard the harsh panting of his lover. The pale, exposed column of her throat seemed to throb with her pulse as he nuzzled into it using her hair as protection. Nipping, suckling he growled as she arched into his thrusts, clenching muscles down on his hard length and making him inch ever closer to the precipice of paradise.

Soft moans echoed in his ears, the rake of nails even through his undershirt pushed him closer until with a roar muffled by her silk clad breasts he came, aware of her body clenching and rippling along his length, milking his essence with unbridled intent. Leaning against her he struggled to regain his breathing even as a part of him wallowed in the scents swirling around him, the mixture of their scents confirming that a claim had been made.

Frowning slightly, Jean picked up the crumpled letter and looked at the stairwell where Rogue had disappeared to. She glanced at the open bedroom door and walked toward it. Stepping into the room she glanced around, there was nothing out of the ordinary within the confines of the room. A bed with disheveled bedding, clothes strewn over the back of a chair, a bathroom door left open, the closet closed up tightly. Everything within the room looked normal, or as normal as Rogue would ever be.

Unwilling though to believe that Rogue had just gotten up to get an early morning snack, Jean looked again at the paper in her hand. Something told her that it held the key to Rogue's actions of late and she opened the page. Noting in passing that the page had been folded and refolded many times Jean wondered who had written to Rogue even as she felt her blood turn to ice as she started to read the letter.

*Dear Logan,

I realize that you probably aren't missing me although I hope that isn't true. God I miss you Logan, miss talking to you, seeing you. Right now I'm huddled in your room at one in the morning because I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes the sensations get me. I can feel every inch of adamantium in my chest, feel the warmth of it, the easy glide of it and welcome those sensitivities. My body literally burns with the desire to feel that closeness, that much intimacy again. I feel the sweat gather the heat pool and know what's coming. I feel you rushing into my body as I touch your face. * Turning sharply Jean stared at Scott who eyed her with curiosity before slipping past him.

"I've got to talk to Rogue," she muttered heading for the stairwell.

"You want me to come?"

"No," Jean sighed softly, pausing at the top of the staircase. "It would be best if you didn't. She's likely to be distant at best.."

"And hostile at worst," Scott replied softly. "I'm not sure that talking to her is going to do any good."

Jean smiled softly, "I have to try."

With a nod Scott watched her disappear, a scrap of paper clutched tightly in one hand. Whatever was happening he would know soon enough. Turning away he headed back to their room to finish getting ready for the day.

Padding down the stairs Jean sighed and wondered which direction Rogue had gone in. With only the briefest hint of guilt at using her telepathy Jean opened her mind to the young woman. Sensing her in the kitchen Jean turned and started that way even as she felt the terrifying sensation of Logan's memories tickling at her control.

Shuddering, Logan pressed Rogue harder against the fridge as he tried to regulate his breathing. The softest of clicks and he tensed as he realized that someone had come down stairs. Looking at Rogue who leaned against him, her grip tight around his waist, her fingers clenched into his shirt, her head tilted against the fridge he smirked softly. Nuzzling into her hair he inhaled her scent mixed with his and shifted, bracing himself a little better.

"Company," he grunted as Rogue opened her eyes and tilted her head forward to smile lazily at him.

"Who is it?" Rogue whispered, if it was one of the students they'd have to.. her train of thought took a swift, suddenly painful turn at his soft growl.

"Jeannie," Logan whispered back nipping at her earlobe through her hair. Feeling her tense he pulled back and tried to meet her eyes, eyes that held a dart of something he didn't understand before sliding away from him. "What's wrong?" he whispered holding her head steady and forcing her eyes to meet his.

"You want her. She's perfect and she can touch you..," Rogue whispered painfully, fear mingling with insecurity.

Logan shook his head as he moved and deposited her on the island. He knew that he needed Rogue to understand more than just why he'd made love to her so desperately, he needed her to know what he needed her to be, who he needed her to be.

"She isn't you," Logan whispered softly leaning forward slowly keeping Rogue's eyes focused on him even as he slipped out of her. A quick movement and the condom had been deposited in the trash can and his pants pulled up and zipped. "She could never be anything to me."

"But.."

Logan sighed and looked steadily at Rogue a moment before trailing one finger down her face, even as he cursed his own stupidity, "She doesn't haunt my dreams, doesn't make me long to be somewhere else. Jean didn't call me back here, her soul doesn't whisper to me at all times of the day and night not like you do. I don't sense her in a crowd of a million people or on the winds in the most desolated part of the frozen tundra, not like I do you. Jean was a fantasy that would never have happened even if I'd stayed, it couldn't have."

"I know she likes you," Rogue whispered sadly, "She told Storm she did."

Logan smiled softly, "She isn't you. She will never be you and there isn't any way I'd give up what I've got in my arms right now."

Rogue stared at him, at the absolute belief in his eyes, at the trust, the faith, the love that seemed to wrap around her. Forgetting that Jean was about to walk in on them Rogue smiled softly and lifted the lace edge of her top before leaning forward to kiss Logan.

Moaning softly at the gentle touch of her lips against his, Logan stepped closer to her letting her legs rest on either side of his hips. The warm glide of her tongue against his lips had him opening to her tentative request easily, hungrily.

The feel of one bare heel moving up the back of his leg had him growling and pulling her roughly against him. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling it slightly to tip her head back as he deepened the kiss. In a tangle of clothes, hair, leather, and flesh neither were aware of the kitchen door opening or of the tall red-headed woman stepping into the room.

"Rogue, would you.." Jean stuttered even as she jerked to a dead halt at the scene before her. Rogue half lay on the island, her bare legs wrapped around the denim encased hips of a tall, dark haired man. Her hair spilt over the marble counter top even as leather encased fingers tugged at the dark strands and inched under the pale silk of her camisole. A camisole that looked more than a little crumpled by hurried fingers.

The bowl of fruit that usually occupied the island lay scattered upon the floor unnoticed, the fruit tossed about the room with careless disregard. The fridge door had a slight dent in it even as the cooling bottle of beer that sat on the counter obviously forgotten gathered a pool of condensation beneath it. A tangled trail of cotton and plaid was strewn about on the floor along with the familiar looking strip of leather. The worn leather collar of a brown and yellow jacket peeked out from behind the counter along with the handle of a bag.

The soft moan from the young woman had Jean's eyebrows jacking up in shock as she stared for a moment until the feeling of desire, the feelings of lust became too much for her. "Okay! Enough from the two of you. The kitchen is not a bedroom!" she snapped angrily as she moved further into the room.

The familiar snikt of metal on metal gave her a moment's pause and she gasped at the muted moan of ecstasy Rogue gave. Watching the young woman shudder with the force of her passion Jean wondered what had sent her over the edge.

"Fuck off!" the low; angry growl did little to sooth Jean's emotions. Instead she moved on shaky legs to the nearest chair and plunked down into it as Logan rose, pulling Rogue with him until he could glare at her.

"Nice to see you Logan," Jean whispered softly staring at them. "Just get in?" She couldn't believe how innate and foolish it sounded but for the life of her she just couldn't come up with something witty to say – especially when she was staring into hazel eyes darkened with pure, animalistic lust. Eyes that were in no way reflecting his emotions toward herself, despite the part of her that thought they should.

Rolling his eyes, Logan looked down at Rogue who was still trembling with the effects of the claws coming out. Moving one hand until she could clearly see the claws he withdrew them slowly, trailing them across the silk of her top even as he smiled slowly at her. Ignoring Jean was easy, way too easy even as Rogue arched into his burgeoning erection with a pained moan.

"Please," Rogue whispered feeling the warm metal trailing across her flesh, scratching and cutting the silk.

"Logan, Rogue if you could focus," Jean snapped suddenly as she rose and waved the letter in her hand. She didn't want to watch them make love or have fuck or whatever it was they were doing. "If you must do that, take it elsewhere."

"Sure," with a low grunt, Logan shifted, lifting Rogue completely and turned to walk out the door. Kicking it shut on his way out he barely spared Jean a glance; instead he headed for somewhere more private.

"I meant after I'd talked to you," Jean muttered as the pair disappeared. With a sigh she rubbed her forehead and headed for the coffee pot. Jerking out the filter she opened the trash can and gulped before dumping the grounds in. Ignoring the trembling in her fingers she quickly made a pot of coffee and began to gather the clothes that were strewn about. Rolling the shirts and jackets into a ball she dumped them on the bag sitting by the door and bent to pick up the belt.

Catching site of a white slip of paper she bit her lip before looking at the door. With a shrug she slipped it from its place in the top of the bag and sat down at the counter. There was no name on the envelope, no indication whom it was for as she stared before opening it up and unfolding the page.

*Dear Marie;

How I wish you were here. I wish I could just reach out and touch you, push you against the wall and make this insane need burn away. Wish that I could possess you with the same tenacity, the same unrelenting grip that you possess me. I know though that I can't, that I can't have you so what's the point in wanting and needing this much? I know it must seem like you've finally gotten free of me baby but the truth is, I sure as hell ain't gotten free of you.

You haunt me during the day. Your scent clings to the wind. I've lost count of the number of times that I've come to a dead halt when I smelled you. No matter where I am, a bar, a store, a garage fueling up I still smell you, sense you and I'm left with this painful need.

A need to feel the softness of your breast again, the feel the pounding of your blood through your veins as my hand lingers against you. I envy my claws baby, envy that they've been in you and I can never be - at least not physically. I regret hurting you, regret that night so badly and yet as guilty as I feel about it baby, as horrific as it was there is a part of me that wishes we were standing there again.

That I could stare into your eyes as the feel of adamantium goes through soft flesh until my hand is pressed against your breast, your nipple hardening under my hand. The warmth of your touch even as it scraped over the stubble on my face to touch bare flesh. The pain of being sucked out of my body and into yours draws a shudder and I long for that again. I long for that moment when we both had possession, when we had more than lovers, more than even those that can touch ever get.

I cling to the memory of each moment of contact between us both at the mansion at on the Statue of Liberty. I hold to the memories of your face in the moonlight, of your hair blowing so casually in the wind even as the sensations of your flesh and mine touching race over me. I feel the silky smoothness of your face, the warmth of your lips, taste the sweetness of your essence like its water and I'm dying of thirst. I cling to my monomania with this insane desperation because it's all I have.

The geeks would never understand, never really be able to know what it is that I mean. I close my eyes and see your eyes filled with shock, pain, acceptance, and a longing so powerful that it's all I can do to stop myself from coming to you.

God Marie I feel like some sick asshole for wanting to own you but I can't stop it. Can't stop the desire that taunts me in the darkness. I haven't looked at another woman since I left, they aren't you, they don't have the same innocence, same knowledge you do. More often than not I'm lying in some dingy hotel bed with my eyes closed tightly, my fist wrapped around my shaft and my mind filled with you. In my fantasies I can hear every gasp, every moan you make and I welcome them, welcome the way my mind opens to you.

I can see your hands tracing over me, feel the softness of silk against my skin and I'm not afraid. Dear God I am not afraid because if we lost control and you took all of me it would mean that I could be within you forever. I would have the ultimate in possession and yet I know that it isn't so much about that as it is that you would have ownership. Please Marie, let me come back to you. Let me be the other half of your soul. I promise I'll do whatever you need, whatever you want - just let me come home.

Love Logan.*

Blinking at the sharp sting in her eyes Jean looked at the bag steadily before folding the letter again and putting it back. Rising from where she knelt next to the bag she picked it up and headed up the stairs to Logan's room.

Spotting Scott in the hallway as she cleared the top of the stairwell she sighed. He looked confused and concerned; his features set in a familiar _expression, "Something wrong honey?"

"Rogue's redecorating," Scott declared without looking at Jean. The solid thump from behind the bedroom door told him some other piece of furniture had been altered, been moved and he worried.

Jean smiled and glanced at the bag in her hand, "No she isn't."

"How'd your conversation go?" Scott asked turning to stare at Jean who held a bag. "She wasn't planning on running was she?"

"It's Logan's," Jean replied softly. "I think we should let Charles in on something."

"What?" Scott moved toward her steadily, "What's wrong? Did Logan get killed or something?" The instant concern in his voice belied his usual verbal sparring with the other man.

Jean shook her head and stared at Scott – he'd deny it if she said it but the fact was that he liked and respected the gruff Canadian who was so different than himself. She wondered if that respect would hold out when things came out that needed to be revealed, "Come on I think we need to talk to Charles."

Ten minutes later sitting before Charles in his office Jean pulled out the two letters so similarly written, so filled with raw emotion and handed them to him. "I found them this morning."

Charles frowned but took the pages easily. Opening them he read slowly, his face growing hot with embarrassment at the words written so clearly on the pages before him. It was like reading the same letter twice, both were crowded with sexual thoughts, desires, longing even and yet there was more than just pure sexual tension on the pages - there was a strong emotional base as well. Placing them carefully on his desk he met Jean's gaze.

"You're concerned?"

"Yes," Jean sighed uneasily. "They want to possess the other, and with Rogue's skin.."

"Do you think they would do it? That they would endanger each other to that extent?"

Jean paused and stared at Charles for a moment before looking at Scott, the letters, Ororo, and finally back to Charles, "Yes. Neither of them is prepared for what they want to be a reality. I'm not saying that their being together is an issue because it isn't, not with me. I'm saying that I think we need to find out just how far they're willing to take this."

"Where did you find Logan's belongings this morning?" Scott asked softly, his tone one of concern.

With a slight flush Jean shrugged, "I found them in the kitchen."

"He probably didn't go with her upstairs," Scott started uneasily only to halt at Jean's look. "What aren't you saying?"

"When I said them," Jean paused and shifted uncomfortably. "I meant Rogue and Logan. They were um.."

"What?" Storm asked softly, "Talking? Fighting? Touching?"

"Touching is such a mild word," Jean sighed. "From the emotional waves coming off them, and from what I found in the trash can I'd have to say that they um desecrated the kitchen this morning."

"Desecrated? What do you mean?" Scott demanded at Jean's blush.

*They were fucking or making love or having sex or whatever they call it,* Jean muttered looking at him steadily. "Engaging in a pursuit better engaged in with a whole lot more privacy."

Rising to his feet Scott paced to the window, "Do you think that separating them would be a good idea?"

"No," Charles replied seriously as he stared at the letters. "How many more of them do you suppose there are?"

"I don't know," Jean shrugged and held up Logan's pack. "I didn't go through his things."

"Dig `em out," Scott demanded raking a hand through his hair, "Lets find out just how many there are."

"Perhaps we should ask them," Charles said as he focused on finding Logan and Rogue within the mansion and sending them a message.

Growling low in his throat, Logan shook his head at the insistent knocking from Charles. Looking at Rogue he noted the same look in her eyes even as he recognized the desire, the passion as well. Opening his mind slightly he sent a brief message to Charles before turning his attention back to making Rogue scream his name again.

~Now Logan, I wish to see both of you in my office. You'll just have to wait until after to finish.~ Charles's demand was clear even as Logan met Rogue's eyes. Growling softly as she shifted under him, her ankles locked behind his back he could feel her wet heat wrapping itself around him and shuddered.

~Fine, be down shortly,~ Logan shot back with a smirk at Rogue. "Damn telepaths."

"Mm," Rogue arched upwards, "They'll wait for us."

Nodding at her words, Logan rolled his hips, dragging his pubis against her clit and making her shudder, "They've got plenty of patience."

Giggling softly Rogue arched upwards, her hands wrapped around his biceps, "Mm but I don't. Please Logan, I need you so badly."

Trailing one claw across her throat he drew an imaginary line from her throat to her breasts before teasing over the nipple. Following the line he'd made with his tongue he flicked at the hard nubbin through wet lace and relished her moan even as he shifted, lifting her hips slightly so he could get better penetration.

"You're mine," the low, lust filled snarl echoed in her ears even as he moved, withdrawing almost completely only to slam into her hard.

"Mine," Rogue muttered back even as she bit his shoulder through his t-shirt, her teeth sinking in hard enough to draw blood. "Always mine."

Growling, at her words, her actions Logan thrust hard, moving her up the bed slightly with each move of his hips until he felt her begin to convulse around him, leaning forward he kissed her roughly, his tongue pushing past her lips with bruising intensity even as she screamed.

Kissing her hastily, passionately he felt himself getting closer and closer to the brink and he deepened the kiss. Punishing both of their mouths even as he roared at his climax. Trembling, trying to retain some sense of where he was Logan breathed deeply of her scent, clinging to her with desperation. By no means did he feel as though he'd marked her yet, that she'd claimed him completely but the rather annoying buzz of Charles's mental knocks was returning and he growled in frustration.

~I said we'd fucking be there soon. Get outta my fuckin' head Wheels or you're gonna need a straw to eat with!~ Logan growled at the other man in his head and the knocking ceased. "He knocking at your mind to?" he whispered tiredly.

"Yeah," Rogue panted her grip loosening slowly. "Guess we should get down there before they come up here."

"Mmm," with a slow nod Logan shifted, pulling away from her and whimpering at the loss of contact. Seeing the same look in his lover's eyes he swallowed and smiled softly at her. It didn't matter what the geeks thought, they would be together - they would make their claims and damn the consequences.

Walking through the hallway Logan rolled his shoulders at the sounds of teenagers coming to life. The only thing about Chuckie's place was that it was over run with kids - ones that were Rogue's age, that were free from a past where nothing made sense.

"They aren't you," Rogue whispered pulling on his hand to get his attention as she leaned against him. "They could never be you."

Turning his head slightly he stared at her for a moment before smiling slightly, "No, they never will be."

Stopping before the heavy wooden door that was only too familiar Logan raised a hand to knock, ~ Come in Logan. So nice of you to finally join us.~

With a low snarl Logan pushed the door opened and stepped into the room with Rogue half a step behind him. A quick flick of his wrist and the door swung shut even as he stalked across the room to settle into one of the empty chairs. Hiding his grin as Rogue sank onto his lap with an indifferent look he faced Charles with a bored, cold stare.

"Nice to see you're back. I take it you brought my bike back?" Scott asked softly, not wanting to let Logan off the hook for stealing it in the first place.

"Needs gas," Logan grunted without turning his attention to Scott.

"Scott's bike not withstanding," Charles sighed and pushed the pages across the desk at Logan before a full fledged argument could get going. "Can you explain these?"

Reaching for them, Logan put one hand on Rogue's ribs to hold her steady as he snagged the familiar letters and pulled them back toward him. Folding them he moved to tuck them into his pocket only to have Rogue take them from his fingers.

"I wanna see," she whispered softly even as she tucked the familiar letter she'd written into his pocket and opened the other one. It was obviously written on hotel stationary, but the words echoed her emotions, her desires, her dreams perfectly. Biting her lip she turned her gaze to meet Logan's unable to voice her thoughts with the emotion clogging her throat. Seeing the recognition, the understanding in his eyes she smiled a tearful smirk and leaned closer to him.

"Logan?" Charles prompted quickly noticing that the man's attention seemed to be focusing on Rogue who was curling tighter into his embrace.

"None of you business," Logan shot back grouchily. "I don't go readin' your mail kindly refrain from doing it to me."

"How many more are there Logan?" Jean asked softly, "How much further have you two slipped into that no man's land?"

Turning his head Logan eyed Jean hostilely, "No man's land? What the fuck do you mean by that?"

"She's a child Logan she doesn't know what she wants. When she realizes that what she thinks she wants isn't what she wants.."

"Speak English lady I ain't interested in going in circles."

"Rogue's very young Logan," Storm started calmly. "How can you be sure that things will stay the way they are now?"

"You don't get it," Logan shook his head slowly and turned back to Charles. "Not one of you understands, but then we were sorta expecting that from you. It's about belonging, about having more than just the darkness."

"You can find a warm body anywhere Logan," Scott pointed out sourly, "Why would you pick.."

"Why not me?" Rogue snarled at Scott fury in every line of her body along with a touch of pain. "What is so bad about me that Logan shouldn't want me?"

"You're a teenager!"

"I was a teenager when I ran from my parents place in Mississippi," Rogue shot back. "I grew up fast on the streets."

"You're exchanging one prison for another," Jean replied softly. "Both of you. You can't surrender your entirety to someone else; it makes for a very unhealthy situation."

"You're just pissed because I've got something you can't have," Rogue replied with a dark look. "You act like you have a right to judge me. This body may be seventeen, but my mind is a helluva lot older than that. I know..I KNOW what Logan's going to say or do at any given second. I can see what he's thinking, what he's feeling."

"Rogue we're not judging you," Charles interrupted quickly. "I'm just concerned that with both of you wanting to be with the other so much, and the references to absorption within your correspondence that you may see that as a viable option.."

"Its not," Logan growled holding onto Rogue tighter, pulling her tighter against him at the thought of being without her nearby, being too far away to touch. "Something happens I'm gonna make damn sure she survives it - even if I have to touch her but the truth is that bare skin doesn't make the connection we have any more potent," he muttered leaning his forehead against her temple and breathing in her scent mixed with his, the peace rolling off her settling his rage as easily as a gentle touch settles a disruptive mood.

"What do you mean?" Charles leaned forward to stare at Logan who seemed wrapped up in Rogue's presence to the near exclusion of everyone within the room.

"He means we're touching now, we're connected by more than just my skin. I hated my skin, hated that a touch meant pain, and meant having another voice in my head. It was like taking something that no one should have. When Logan stabbed me with his claws I was relieved, it was over I could have peace, until I saw the look in his eyes. When I touched him it awakened something within me that I'd never let out. My skin gave me Logan; I would never do anything to jeopardize that."

Leaning back Charles stared at Rogue and Logan. The blatant hostility that was often associated with Logan was still there, it just didn't sit out for everyone to see. There was a depth of knowledge, of acceptance in the other man's eyes that Charles had never seen before. For the first time since he'd met him, Logan looked at ease, his gaze settled.

Rogue while visibly pissed off looked equally settled, equally focused on Logan. There was a slight curve of her lips at the slow but steady progress of Logan's finger rubbing her rib cage. Her eyes usually so unsettled, so confused held only a warmth for Logan Charles was certain would never fade.

Looking at the three instructors Charles sighed, "Fair enough. Here's what I'm going to do. Logan, you can have the apartment over the garage.."

"But sir.." Scott sat upright, leaning forward in his displeasure.

Charles raised one hand and looked at Scott for a second, "I expect you to keep your beer and cigars there. It has its own entrance and is still adjoining the mansion. Keep in mind that you are still living in a school, and behave yourself."

"Can't forget the little children," Logan muttered under his breath earning a snicker from Rogue and a dark look from Scott. "Fine. I agree on one condition."

"Name it," Charles eyed him evenly.

"Rogue moves in with me."

"No, oh hell no!" Scott jumped to his feet easily. "There is no way I'm gonna go for that. She's underage Professor, not to mention that would be like putting.."

"Not your say," Logan replied nuzzling into Rogue's hair and listening to her faint but distinctive purr. "That's the deal."

"Rogue?" Charles looked at the young woman who was currently tracing over Logan's knuckles with intent her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

"I'm cool with that," Rogue replied her voice thick with something Charles didn't want to acknowledge.

"Good. Now then, keep your uh `letters' out of sight of the student body, your cigars, beer, and other mishmash you call belongings locked behind your suite door and we should do fine. I fully expect you to take up teaching a course or two," Charles stated looking steadily at Logan.

"What? Advanced mercenary?"

"Physical Education for one, with your background I feel you are most suited to the physical training of the students, and one other course which will be decided later."

"I ain't.."

"Logan," Rogue looked pointedly at him. "You can do this."

"Ain't teaching no pansy ass class."

"Okay," Rogue grinned at him. "I know one you'd be perfectly suited to."

"No," Charles interjected before Rogue could offer a suggestion. "I've got an opening for History or Literature."

"Oh God!" Logan groaned and shook his head. "And you expect me to teach either of those? You do remember my memories are a bit like Swiss cheese?"

Charles smirked easily at the man, "Considering your writing talents I'd say you'll do very well with the Lit class."

"Whatever," Logan rose smoothly, Rogue still in his arms, "We done?"

"For now," Charles replied as Logan jerked the bag from Jean's fingers and headed for the door. "In future keep your `private' activities out of the kitchen Logan. You never know who might have walked in on you?"

"Ha, didn't see nothin'," Rogue giggled and wiggled closer to Logan, her body already beginning to burn for his touch again.

"See you around," Logan replied as the door slammed shut. ~Just not today. Need some down time.~

Shaking his head Charles turned to face the trio who eyed him with varying degrees of displeasure. "If we raise a fuss they're gonna run and I don't know about any of you but putting those two together is like adding another ton of dynamite to a munitions ship that's already on fire. Now you put that out on the streets and tell me that the world would be safe."

"All joking aside sir, how can we condone this? It could lead to some rather devastating events," Jean stated even as Scott nodded in agreement.

"She's very young sir," Scott protested. "How can we be so sure that this is what she wants?"

"We can't," Charles replied seriously, "But we do know this much, it is not up to us. Rogue and Logan both made a choice; they have to live with it. Now then I suggest you get ready we have class in fifteen minutes."

Rising Storm followed Jean out of the room even as Scott paused, "He phoned for her," Scott admitted softly. "A few days ago he phoned; for the first time in his life he actually reached out to someone other than himself. I didn't think anything of it really, but maybe I should have."

"We only get one turn on this earth Scott," Charles replied softly. "Can you say that you would give up on having what you and Jean have without a fight?"

Shaking his head Scott looked at his mentor for a moment, "I can't say that sir. I'd give anything to have what I've got - risk anything. Even if it meant I lost everything else."

Smiling Charles leaned back and watched Scott leave the room. He had no doubt that Logan and Rogue would make it, after all they held ownership over the other with adamantium laced determination.