He sat in the dimmest corner of the rec room, small tumbler of whiskey warming up in his hands, cigar smoke curling slowly from the ashtray beside him and observed. Generally he didn’t mind much about these shindigs, but curiosity and boredom had driven him from his room to explore when first chords of the Christmas carols had reached him through the air vent above his bed. And of course he had had another reason to participate this year. He had gotten presents. Sensible and useful presents to everybody, and he had been too busy earlier to add them to the growing pile under the Christmas tree.

He had gotten presents as well. They sat beside him on the floor, unopened. There was no rush. And he rather opened them back in his room alone anyway. Each and every one of the boxes that were wrapped with colorful papers held a card. Each and every card carried a name of the person that had given the present. He could thank them later.

“Oh, Logan! These are just adorable!” Jean. Pair of fluffy mittens and a cap. Scott staring at him disbelievingly. He raised the tumbler he was holding to the other man and winked. Received a puzzled, yet pleased smile from Summers. Brat had most likely expected him to get something rather obvious and tacky for Jean. Well, in all honesty Logan had been briefly debating with himself between mittens and extremely sheer silk robe, but in the end reason had won. He had ended up buying both, but Jean became the recipient of the mittens.

He had started thinking about another person who wouldn’t find the robe tacky, or even the slightest bit of sexist and obnoxious. The person in question was standing little further in the room, holding the robe and rubbing her cheek against the soft surface, her eyes closed and her lips just slightly parted.

Dark green silk gleamed wetly in the flickering light of the candles, accentuating her pale skin and rich chocolate colored hair. Brought white bangs in it to the front, reminding him briefly about the moment he saw them blossoming over her forehead. He clutched the tumbler instinctively harder when she opened her eyes and her joyful gaze swept over the crowd, searching him. She mouthed quick ‘thank you’ before disappearing from the room.

He waited far in to the night, until everybody else was asleep before he stood up from where he sat and stretched his back. Gathered his presents and started his slow journey through the sleeping mansion. He did it every night. Just because it was Christmas Eve it didn’t mean that the bad guys were sleeping. But everything was silent, as it should be, so he ended his nightly patrol and returned to his room.

The girl was sleeping on his bed, dressed to forest green silk robe. He placed the packages he was carrying silently on to a table next to bed and started unbuttoning his shirt. Every move careful. There was no room for even the tiniest of noise now.

When he was done his torso was bare. He approached the bed, hesitating for a second. His hands went to the buckle of his belt. It was hard and cold. But did it matter?

He gathered the sleeping girl on his arms, careful not to wake her. She flinched slightly when her hip pressed against the buckle, but settled against him when he stood up. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the robe. Could feel the softness of her body through the robe as he backed slowly out from his room and turned to the direction of hers.

He could feel slow tingling. Small jolts, like electricity. Her skin was reacting through the silk. The robe was entirely too sheer to protect him thoroughly, but it was a small price to pay when he saw the smile on her lips and heard her pleased gasp when he laid her on her bed and tucked her in for the night.

At first when she opened the present she had thought it a mistake. Simple mishap in the shop while wrapping the presents, since Jean was holding a pair of very girlish mittens and a cap whereas she found a sensual silk robe from under the colorful wrappings. She took it out, held it and closed her eyes, already envious for the other woman. Cool silk felt heavenly against her skin, almost as if it were water, or… Bare skin?

When she felt somebody watching her she opened her eyes and scanned the crowd in the room, slightly ashamed of her behavior. When she met Logan’s pleased gaze she knew. It wasn’t a mishap. The robe really was for her, not for Jean.

Logan was on the other side of the room, his form partially hidden in the shadows. She wasn’t so sure of how to thank him properly. Was this his way of telling her that he wasn’t embarrassed of her crush on him? Or… Or even more? Would she dare to hope that… No. Not likely.

She let out the smile that had been bubbling inside of her from the moment she saw the first glimpse of the forest green silk from underneath the wrappings and mouthed words ‘thank you’ for Logan who just nodded.

She left the room, now exited, eager to try on the robe.

On her way to her room she started thinking of what would Logan think of her present for him. She hadn’t had much money to spend. Would he think her present as something ordinary? Something dull and easily forgotten?

She had spent several days wandering in and out from shops and boutiques, trying to find something, anything for him that would tell him how much he meant for her. She had briefly mused over box of fine cigars, then an expensive bottle of aged whiskey. She had even looked for jewelry of sorts, silver chain with small silver guardian angel figurine on it. Hunter’s knife she had discarded quickly, he wouldn’t have the use for it.

She had finally decided to buy him a practical gift instead of meaningful. She knew perfectly well that come the new year he’d be gone. Back on the road. Somewhere far north, searching for his life. She had gotten him thermal underwear after asking from Jean the right size, and a big, sturdy thermos, hoping he would find them useful on his long and cold journey.

Back in her room she discarded her clothes. Thick denim and cotton, sensible and neat. Practical. Geared to protect those around her. Silk robe, light as air waited on the bed as she stretched and turned, enjoying the feel of bareness. Let her hands skim her sides and stomach ever so lightly, closing her eyes. It wasn’t often she had the chance to do this.

Soon she could hear the siren’s call of the robe. Sinful, luxurious, forbidden. Sheer, light and airy. Dangerous. And all hers. Silk was soft and cool against her already heated flesh. Cool and clingy, but it warmed up quickly, turning again warm and gentle as… Would his hands be warm? Gentle? Would his skin caress hers as the silk did? Would he caress and love the way she wanted?

She really didn’t want to find the answer to those questions. She left her room before they came more persistent.

Carpet was soft under her bare feet. Dark wooden paneling on the walls was sturdy and unyielding as she leaned against it, feeling the decorative engravings against her back. Silk was so sheer that it almost felt as if there was nothing between her and the age-old wood. When she closed her eyes she could almost feel even the single grains underneath her, each and every one of them singing their own tune, reverberating silently, answering to the call of her skin.

She continued wandering around. The robe was almost translucent in the moonlight that filtered in through the numerous windows. A silvery ray laid cold kisses on her, feeding the flame that was steadily burning inside of her.

She could hear voices from downstairs. Short tidbits of conversations. Silent laughter. Clinking of glasses. Paper rustling.

She continued further down the corridor, rubbing against the walls and furniture, trying and testing different materials and surfaces. Everything felt good. None of it felt right. None of it was quite what she was looking for.

When she came to the door of his room, door to Logan’s private world she didn’t hesitate. She turned the knob, expecting it to be locked. Instead the knob turned easily and the door swung open to grant her access.

She stepped in, instantly knowing she would find what she was looking for from here.

His scent, and the strange, yet pleasant but rapidly fading feeling of his skin were strongest on his bed. She lay on top of the covers and closed her eyes. Surrendered to the inferno inside of her and let it feed. Drew in everything and anything within her reach, falling to peaceful slumber when the flickering flames started to ebb.

She was only partially aware of him. He was there, a good, solid presence holding her. Cold metal, blood, bone, muscle and skin. And she knew, just knew that he’d be there as long as she wanted, as long as she needed.

Once in possession of his room again he opened his presents carefully, appreciating each and every one of them silently. Good Cuban cigars from the professor. Bottle of whiskey from Scott and Jean. Small sculpture presenting a wolverine made out of ironwood from Ororo.

What he found from the last package he opened made him stop. For a long moment he just sat there on his bed, his fingers buried in to the wool, one hand clutching the thermos.

Jean’s words from earlier when he woke up in the med lab came back haunting him. He could hear them echoing eerily around him. He could hear his rather callous rebuke as well.

Of all of them around him the one who was ready, if not willing to let him go was Rogue. The same girl, who practically threw her heart at him every time their paths crossed in the hallways understood and was ready to let him go, was offering him his freedom.

He packed his knapsack. Wrapped the bottle of whiskey to a towel to cushion it. Pocketed the small wolverine. Stripped and put on the warm, woolen underwear. Put on his jeans and shirts. Checked the room for one last time and put on his jacket.

At her door he hesitated. She was asleep. He really shouldn’t disturb her at this time of night. He really shouldn’t. But he couldn’t very well just leave without saying goodbye first, now could he.

Hinges creaked softly when he pushed the door open and walked in. She was in deep sleep, curled on her side. He could still smell the faint scent of her release in the air. It made him wish that this were a completely another night, the night he was hoping would come in the future.

He shook his head for his own foolishness. Spotted a small scrap of paper and a pen on a table under the window.

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When she woke up at the next morning she found a note from the table. Small piece of pink paper, her pink pen decorated with glitter lying next to it, Logan’s dog tag gleaming faintly on the early morning light on top of the note.

I’ll be back for these