Marie flung herself at the side of her truck. Damn him. Damn him to hell and back and back again. The fucking twit!

The single-pump gas station she'd stopped at, on a dirt road in the backend of nowhere, held only a tiny clapboard wreck of a building, sagging in the dank humidity of nightfall. Locusts buzzed and hummed incessantly. Fireflies danced against the darkness just beyond the zone of light intermittently stuttering forth from the cock-eyed sign above her head: reds Gas. Evidently the 'F' had fallen off long ago; the absence of an apostrophe wasn't a surprise.

Yanking the sponge/squeegee from its bucket of slimy, faintly Windexy smelling water, she furiously slammed it against the windshield, scrubbing at the dried bugs plastered to the dusty surface. Crispy wings and matchstick legs and other bits she tried not to identify, flaking away like so much delicate pastry crust, turned to a muck of soupy goo under the dripping scrub sponge.

She pulled up a windshield wiper, attempting to dislodge the fibrous remains of a very large Praying Mantis, got the squeegee firmly tangled in the blade, and it snapped off and went flying past her shoulder. Dumbstruck, she watched it bounce on the broken asphalt, the tip bent like a bony finger, pointing at her accusingly.

Fuck it. It probably wouldn't rain for a month. She eyed the black sky overhead and decided that with her luck, it would rain inside an hour. It was certainly humid enough.

Biting back the raging irritation, she again turned to her task, scrubbing and huffing and straining - but no matter the effort, she just wasn't tall enough to reach more than a few feet toward the center of the windshield. Another lunge, and the stick in her hand got away from her, landing smack in the middle of the hood.

She stood back and gaped at her predicament. Fucking truck! Why couldn't she have had the foresight or the patience to commandeer one of Xavier's numerous other vehicles? Like that little red sports car, the convertible. Or even that piece-of-shit Acura. No, she'd been in such a tearing hurry to leave, she'd grabbed the closest one - the full-sized pick-up the groundskeeper used to haul downed tree limbs and cuttings and raked leaves and oily lawn mowers. The thing had to be at least thirty years old. The interior reeked of smelly dog and dead plants - and even though she liked the old man's pooch, a dopily friendly Labrador of the eager-to-please variety, the hound's odor was firmly entrenched in the threadbare upholstery.

She took a running jump at the side of the truck, managing only to knock the squeegee farther from reach. Her feet sliding back to the ground, she lowered her head against the hot metal surface and sighed in defeat. This trip wasn't working out like she'd hoped.

It was the first time she'd returned to the South since landing at Xavier's Institute four years ago. Her parents happily handed her over at age sixteen, only too glad to get rid of her and the 'mutant problem' she presented. They'd given up custody and all parental rights and then quietly moved away; they'd never contacted her again.

Even so, it was only natural that fleeing for 'home' was the first thing that popped into her head after Bobby's betrayal. The parental units weren't a concern; she had no desire to find or contact them. She only wanted the familiarity of soft summer nights and the more leisurely pace of life here; the company of homespun folksy type, uh, folks. She'd quite thoroughly forgotten how blatantly ignorant and slatternly some of them could be. Fred, the gas station proprietor parked on a rickety stool inside his tiny office, had only stared at her blankly when she'd handed him a fifty-dollar bill for the gas. “You want change?”

Did she want change? Hello! Of course she wanted change. Then it had dawned on her, watching his wheels slowly turning as he hemmed and hawed over his cash drawer, that mere counting was at the limits of his intellectual capacity.

Fred looked to be about sixty, a simpleton if there ever was one. She'd stood there waiting for him to figure it out and wondered what it must be like to vapidly wander through life without ever forming a convoluted thought - something she would have at one time sworn Bobby was in no way capable of doing. Turned out she was wrong.

Bobby. Her oh-so-very-nice, clean-cut, sweet-faced, non-pressuring boyfriend, forever patient and attentive and a lying deceitful sack of shit! Frantically making another jump for the squeegee, she cracked her knee on the fender and howled.

In the shadows of a huge tree dripping Spanish moss and home to a family of possums eager to get their night foraging underway, Logan slouched against his bike, arms crossed over his chest, and watched the girl's gyrations and frantic activity and tried really hard not to laugh. She was so goddamned mad, it was hilarious.

He watched her step back from the truck, taking a moment to rub her sore knee and make a show of pushing up her sleeves as if preparatory for a fight, even though she was wearing a tank top and the sleeves were only in her imagination. She then popped open the truck's passenger side door, wiggled her delectable ass in the air as she crawled along the bench seat, only to scoot backwards again, a dollar bill in one hand and a toolbox in the other.

Oh, this oughta be good. Vastly entertained, Logan settled himself more comfortably sideways on the bike's saddle and sat back to watch.

Marie stepped around the front of her truck and eyed the dispenser topped with a cardboard sign: Disposable Shammee - One Buck. Shammee, for God's sake. Although she supposed 'chamois' was a word bound to flummox even the more capable spellers of the world, this was the first time she'd seen this particular attempt at its rendition. At least Fred had gotten 'disposable' right.

Ungodly orange fabric stuck down out of the bottom of the machine's casing. The locking arm would give it up for a dollar, or so it claimed. She figured could stand on the toolbox and hopefully make a good stab at finally getting her windshield clean.

A bit doubtful if the machine would even work, Marie slipped the bill into the slot and surprisingly, it gobbled up the money without complaint. But then nothing happened. She jiggled the box and pulled at the orange cloth. Still, nothing happened. A glance at the dirt-grimed office windows, now nearly opaque due to nightfall, failed to reveal Fred's whereabouts.

Well, fuck! Again, she rattled the box and tugged at the orange cloth. Wrapping both fists into the small bit of fabric sticking out, just daring her to make the machine give it up, she yanked and flailed and heaved. Suddenly, the box popped open - but not the locking arm. About nine dollars in quarters, a mountain of dimes and nickels, a stick of wrapped chewing gum (?!) and a bottle cap dribbled in a stream to puddle at her feet.

Marie looked blankly at the mess and vacantly let go of the trailing end of the 'disposable shammee.' With an infuriated scream, she turned, drew her foot back and kicked the pile of silver into the air. Watching the flickering progress of the change raining down, her mouth dropped open. There was a man watching her. He was walking closer. She saw him flinch as a dollar and a half in flying change bounced off his face.

“Whoa, take it easy, darlin'. You need a hand?”

Marie felt so idiotic she couldn't think of anything to say. The man's smile shone whitely in the darkness. But then she decided it wasn't a smile after all. It was a smirk. A definite smirk. Of all the nerve!

She drew herself up with all the dignity she could muster, nose in the air. “No. No, thank you, I'm perfectly all right.”

The man looked like he was trying to swallow his lopsided grin as he stepped around her and took hold of the squeegee lying on the hood. He dropped it back into its bucket with a splash.

“You sure? Looks like you're havin' a rough night.”

Marie could only gape at him as he came to stand in front of her truck. Looking past him, she could dimly make out a motorcycle parked under the trees. The son of a bitch had been watching her make a spectacle of herself and it only made her madder.

“Yes, I'm sure! I'll just be on my way, I'll …” She trailed off and her eyes widened as a strange noise at her back made her turn. Had a radiator hose decided to give up? Oh, terrific!

She looked in astonishment as her truck began to sink at the front right corner. Not a radiator hose - a tire, bleating and squeaking out its rapidly depleting air pressure. She watched in stupefied shock as it sank into a state of complete flatness, coming to rest with a tired sigh on the rim. In the sudden silence, all she could hear were the bugs flinging themselves with suicidal glee into the lighted sign above their heads. And then the sign went out.

A creak of screen door, the whine of a tiny scooter, and Fred had apparently escaped out the back. At closing time, it seemed, Fred didn't waste any time in heading home.

Logan rubbed a hand over his mouth before the hilarity got away from him, but he couldn't keep it contained for long. He started to laugh. He was almost doubled over when she spun back around and slugged him a good one in the chest.

“This isn't funny! What am I supposed to do now?”

“Hey, hey, take it easy.” This poor kid - what a miserable day she was having. He got hold of her flailing hands and held them still. “Just sit tight, darlin'.”

She stood there, feeling helpless and foolish, and watched him throw the toolbox back inside the truck, toss her her bag, and pop the parking brake. He easily rolled the truck from the pump to the edge of the clearing, pulled the keys out, locked it up and held out a hand.

“Come on, kid. I got a place you can stay tonight. We'll take care of your truck in the mornin'.”

At the end of her rope, Marie looked around at the darkness of the still night and thought 'What the hell? Why not?' He was a little intimidating, maybe a lot intimidating - but her options were few at this point. Besides, she could always use her skin to keep him away if he turned out to be a creep.

She took a breath, took his offered hand, and let him lead her to his bike.

“This is it?” Marie clambered off the bike and immediately fell flat on her face.

Alarmed, Logan was crouched at her side a scant second later. “Jesus, kid. You okay?” Despite the concern in his voice, once it was clear she hadn't broken anything, she could tell he was trying not to laugh at her. Well, hell. Who wouldn't?

Furious, she pushed herself to her knees and picked tiny pebbles from the palms of her hands.

“Yes, I'm fine!” Was she forever doomed to make a fool of herself in front of this man? Sure looked that way.

Never having ridden on the back of a motorcycle before, she was admittedly still a little shaky, and not just from the ride. Before firing up the bike, he'd pulled her arms around his chest and held them there, telling her to hang on. Then he'd twisted his broad back against her breasts, and although it might have only been a way to settle them both more firmly on the bike, she didn't quite think so.

Taking his outstretched hand, she let him help her stand up. She staggered a bit and tried to get her head screwed on straight. Hanging onto him and getting a real good idea of just what that magnificent chest must look like, as under her hands the contours of his body were impossible to miss, made her a tad lightheaded. Then again, that tight white t-shirt left little to the imagination.

Marie took a look around. When he'd said he had a place to stay, she'd assumed he meant a house or a motel room or at least someplace with a roof. The clearing in the woods, however, a mile or two from the nearest paved road and edged by a gurgling stream, held only a rolled up sleeping bag, the remains of a dampened fire, a few assorted packs - and that was it. Not even a tent. Oh, fine! Where was she supposed to sleep? In his sleeping bag? With him? She started to wonder just what she'd gotten her foolish trusting self into.

With an angry shake of her head, she decided she was being an idiot. No one wanted her. No one. She'd had that little fact slammed right in her face, front and center, not two days ago. Her self-worth, shaky to begin with, had taken a decided turn for the worse.

“I gotta tell you, mister, I'm not much of one for camping. You might have mentioned the arrangements a little sooner.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and then blithely ignored her concerns. “You hungry? I already ate but I can make you somethin'. Coffee, at least.” He hunkered down and got the fire going again.

Well, well. What a host. “Coffee sounds good, actually. Um, what do I call you?” They'd never gotten as far as introductions. Which, frankly, seemed incredible, considering where they were.

Logan stood and wiped off his hands. The smirk was back. “Answer to your dreams?”

Her eyes widened and she could feel a heated blush rising over her face. Thank God it was dark enough that he wouldn't see it. She heard him chuckling under his breath as he went to grab the coffee fixings.

Marie continued to watch him and damn if he wasn't right. Tall, dark and handsome didn't quite cover it all, and there was a lot to cover. He wasn't anything at all like her thin, wiry, fresh-faced former boyfriend. One good shove, and she figured he could flatten Bobby without drawing a breath. The thought, for some reason, made her supremely happy.

She cleared her throat. “My name's Marie.”

He stood and dropped his eyes over her, a slow slide from head to toe and back again. The intensity of his look made her unconsciously stiffen her knees, not wanting to collapse in a girlish swoon. Could she be any more pathetic?

Logan tossed her a banged-up blue enameled coffee pot. “Okay, Marie. Get us some water? Stream's right behind you.”

Marie juggled and fumbled the thrown kettle, finally gaining control of it. “All right, but - seriously. What do I call you?”

He hesitated before answering, and it occurred to her that he wasn't a man to give up anything lightly. Not even his name. She wondered why that might be.

“Name's Logan.” He pointed, indicating the stream at her back. “It ain't deep but don't fall in. And watch for snakes.”

Snakes? Snakes? Without quite realizing she was doing it, she stumble-stepped up to him, her eyes wide. “Can you come with me?”

Logan shook his head with a laugh. All fire and bravado one minute, a scared kid the next.

He took her by the wrist and led her down the embankment to the stream.

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Sitting on her heels, Marie trailed her hands idly over the lip of an overhanging rock and let the cool water take the sting out of her palms. A breeze had kicked up and it cut the dank humidity to a fair degree. Branches swayed above them, leaves chittering in the gusts of wind.

She pulled the lid off the coffee pot and dunked it below the surface. The current gave it a good tug and she concentrated on not losing it. The lid, however, she sort of forgot about. As she shifted a knee, it went speedily rolling along the flat surface of the rock as if late, late, for a very important date, sailed off the edge, and disappeared from view.

She gasped and looked up at Logan. He wasn't paying any attention, however. Standing a few feet away, his eyes were locked onto a patch of darkness on the other side of the stream.

“Logan?”

He jerked a hand up, indicating quiet, and she froze. Something was moving thru the black woods just upstream. A heavy thump, a few rustling noises, and whatever it was bounded away.

Marie shot to her feet, sloshing water over his boots from the too-full coffee pot. “Snakes?”

Logan bit his lip, hard, before turning his head to look at her. He tried to say something but laughter snorted out his nose; speech was momentarily beyond him.

“Well, darlin', I don't think there's any snakes around these parts that weigh three hundred pounds and walk.”

Her voice went very small. “Oh.”

He shook his head with a grin, shook the water off his boots, and helped haul her up the embankment.

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Marie sat on the grass and watched him crouched on the other side of the fire, snapping and crackling in the breeze. A small plate sat on top of the coffee pot, a hastily improvised lid. He'd cocked an eyebrow at her when she 'fessed up that she'd lost the lid, but mercifully, he didn't comment further.

He'd already opened up the sleeping bag, spreading it out on a mossy surface, assuring her the spongy growth was quite comfy to sleep on. She doubted it wholeheartedly. A light blanket lay folded on top. No pillows. She sighed.

“You really going to help me with the truck tomorrow?”

Logan glanced up. “Watch that cup. You're don't wanna burn yourself.”

She gasped and looked at the cup in her hand. It was tipping dangerously past center point. She righted it, too quickly, and scalding hot coffee splashed over the rim and onto her thigh. “Damn it!” Hurling the coffee cup off into the darkness, she tried not to howl.

Logan was becoming more than a little exasperated with his young guest. Kid was nothing but trouble. He scooted over to her on his knees. “Here, lemme see.”

She had curled herself up, her head lowered on her knees, arms encircling her shins. He could smell tears but she wasn't budging.

“Kid, come on. Let me take a look.” He tried to get her to unfold.

She at last lifted her head, her face a tear-streaked mess - not just from the pain but from her whole world seemingly coming apart at the seams. Still, she tried to make a show of indifference. “It's nothing.”

Logan ignored her and pried her knees open. An angry red blotch was visible just below the hem of her shorts, but there were no blisters. He sighed and got to his feet. “Hang on.” He dug a couple of bandanas out of a pack and strode off to the stream.

Back a moment later, he knelt and laid a dripping bandana over her leg. “It ain't much, but it's probably the best we can do.” His finger touched her chin and he gave her the other bandana. “Sorry, darlin'. I know it hurts.”

Marie shivered at the cold water but the sting began to lessen almost immediately. She started to wipe off her face with the spare bandana. “Thanks, mister. Don't mean to be a pain in the ass.”

He laughed quietly then sat down next to her. She was quite surprised to feel his arm slip around her and he tugged her closer. She held herself stiffly at first, but it only took a moment to give in and she gratefully laid her head on his shoulder.

His voice was low, soft. “Had a pretty rotten day, haven't you?”

“You could say that.”

“Where you headed?”

She shrugged. “Dunno. Just had to get away. I left New York yesterday.”

New York? He was headed there himself, but decided not to mention it.

“You know, darlin', getting away might be accomplished a little better with a different vehicle. That truck - I'm surprised you got fifty miles.”

“Well, it's not really mine.”

“Oh?” There was a moment of silence. “Kid, you runnin' from something? Somebody lookin' for you?”

She laughed bitterly and lifted her head. “Hardly. Nothing more earth-shattering than a bad break-up.” How pathetic.

Logan watched her carefully. “How bad we talkin' about? He hurt you?” It surprised even him, the vehemence behind that last question - but the thought of someone raising a hand to her pissed him off in the extreme.

A bit confused by his suddenly sharp tone, she flopped her hands in her lap. “Physically, no. Never even kissed me.” The cowardly little snot.

Logan was somewhat taken aback. “Never kissed you? Why the hell not?” She only looked away. At a loss, Logan asked, “How long were you together?”

“About three years.”

Logan's antennae went on high alert. Something wasn't right here. Marie was the very definition of beautiful girl; she had the most gorgeous mane of sable hair he'd ever laid eyes on. And her body - lithe and graceful (when she wasn't falling on her face, at least), toned limbs and creamy flawless skin, not to mention a perfectly astounding rack - was something he could easily salivate over. In his imagination, he already had. Couple of times, as a matter of fact.

She was far younger than the women he usually went for, and as such he certainly had no intention of pursuing her. He'd only picked her up in the first place because she amused him. God knows, he had little enough of that in his life. Still, none of that stopped him appreciating the view.

Did she say three years? Perplexed, he turned her face to him, again with a finger on her chin. “You're with this creep three years and he never even kissed you? What is he, stupid?”

“No. Gay.”

Logan blinked. “Say that again?”

Marie waved her hands about, totally flustered, and jumped to her feet. She started to pace in agitated circles. “You heard me. Turns out he's gay. He only used me for cover, the slimy rotten spineless snail!”

Snail? That was a new one on Logan. Kinda fitting, all the same.

While there was nothing wrong with being gay, knowingly using someone else to deceive the rest of the world about your sexual orientation had to rank near the top of the list in underhandedness.

Logan narrowed his eyes. “So how'd you find out? He finally do the big confession and all?” Man, that must've been a conversation for the books. No wonder this kid was on the verge of falling apart - hurt, pissed off, on the run and stranded. He supposed 'hurt' was the topper, though.

“No. He didn't even know I'd found out. Left him a note, though. A really nasty one.”

At that, Logan grinned. He hoped it knocked the little shit off his gyros.

“So how did you find out? You sure you're right?” Young guys tended to horse around a lot, an unending game of one-upmanship, calling each other decidedly swishy names and acting like morons. Then again, if the idiot had never even kissed her… That was a pretty goddamned big clue. He wondered why she'd stuck it out as long as she had.

Marie turned around and gave him a pitying look. “How do you think I found out? Opened the wrong door at the wrong time.”

Logan continued to press her. “And saw… what exactly?”

“Oh for Christ's sake! What do you think I saw? He was on his knees sucking his best friend's - ” She suddenly quit talking and marched off into the darkness.

He wasn't terribly surprised to hear a splash a moment later.

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“Hell, just take it off! I'm not gonna look at you. You can put on one of my shirts.” Logan held out a long-sleeved chambray work shirt. “You coulda told me to grab the bag from behind the seat but you sort of failed to mention that.”

Marie stood there shivering and dripping and miserable. No, she hadn't told him to grab her other bag - the one with her clothes in it. She only had the pack he'd taken off the front seat of her truck. It wasn't much more than a purse. Way to go, Marie.

The dank night air wasn't chilly, exactly, but the wind certainly wasn't helping matters any. And the water from the stream was more than cold. She'd slipped on a loose stone on the embankment and fallen in. Just call me Grace.

She reached for the shirt and twirled a finger. Logan dutifully turned around. The grin on his face would no doubt have pissed her off but good. He stood there listening to her peeling her wet clothes off and wished for a handy mirror to suddenly materialize.

“You done?”

“Yes, you can turn around now.”

He stepped closer and briskly ran his hands along her arms, warming her up.

“How about we just turn in? You think you can manage not to injure yourself while sleeping?”

She looked up at him with a pout. “Very funny, Logan.”

He only laughed and pulled her into his arms. “Things'll look better tomorrow, kid. They always do.”

She cuddled herself into the solid wall of his chest, tearfully grateful for the comfort he offered. “Hope you're right.”

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Marie tossed and turned and slithered over the sleek material of the sleeping bag. Opened into a single layer, it was plenty wide to accommodate the both of them; she didn't even feel all that weird lying down next to him. He wasn't exactly close or anything.

Logan, one hand behind his head, stared up at the sky, intermittent starlight peeking behind wispy clouds. He'd kicked off his boots and gotten rid of his tee shirt but having to sleep in his jeans was starting to piss him off.

His free hand lashed out and he grabbed her by the arm. “You wanna quit all the squirming?”

She sat up, torn between bunching up the light blanket for a pillow or leaving it on her bare legs to keep the chill away.

“Sorry. Not used to sleeping without a pillow.” She craned her neck, hearing a distinct pop. “You're right about the moss, though. Makes a nice bed, but I just can't get comfy without a pillow - “

Before she knew what he was doing, he'd yanked her down into his arms and her head landed on his chest. “There. That do you?”

Oh my yes, this will do nicely. She tucked herself closer and tentatively lay an arm across him. “Thanks, Logan.”

“Don't mention it.”

They lay there, listening to the quiet of the still night, and Logan finally spoke.

“Somethin' I don't get, Marie. That so-called boyfriend of yours. How come you stuck with him if he never even kissed you?” And did that mean they'd never done anything else, either? What a fuck-up that kid had to be, stringing her along like that.

Marie didn't know what to say. She certainly didn't want to tell him she was a mutant freak. He'd probably climb on his bike and leave her flat.

“It's kind of - complicated, Logan.”

He thought that one over for a minute. “Complicated how?”

“Um - there were some problems with my skin.”

Logan hitched up on an elbow and turned her under him. His eyes roamed her face-looked flawless to him. “What sort of problems?” He couldn't imagine there being a thing wrong with her.

He saw her chin tremble and she turned her head away. “Can we just drop it?”

She'd gotten control over her deadly skin barely a month ago, eagerly expectant the entire four weeks that Bobby would finally stop being a coward and touch her already. That he'd avoided it, making one excuse after another, should have told her long before walking in on him with another guy just what the score was. She had to be the most naive person alive.

And here she was, lying in the arms of this gorgeous hunk of man who'd gone out of his way to help her, taking all her idiotic moves in stride with good humor and a sympathetic ear, and all she wanted to do was hide. She felt like the most undesirable, most clumsy, most stupid girl on the planet.

Logan lowered his mouth next to her ear. “There's nothing wrong with your skin, Marie. You wanna tell me the truth?”

She took a sharp indrawn gasp of air. His hot breath in her ear was sending delicious shivers through her entire body. She started to melt.

Logan felt her reaction immediately. He hadn't really meant to start anything, but he couldn't stop himself from grazing his mouth along her cheekbone. Her heart rate skyrocketed. It effectively shut his brain off as if a switch had been thrown.

On autopilot, he slid a hand into her hair, turned her face to his and kissed her. The heat between them was immediate and dizzying. She whimpered under his mouth and he deepened the kiss, licking at her parted lips and plunging his tongue deep inside her. Marie thought she was going to pass out.

His hand cupping her face, he tilted his head for better access and simply devoured her, pouring all the heated eroticism he could summon into his efforts. Her shaking hands clutched at his shoulders.

It took an enormous effort of will, but Logan finally broke it off. She was blinking up at him and trying to catch her breath - and then her face crumpled and she burst into tears. Oh, shit. She tucked her face into his shoulder and started to bawl her eyes out.

This unexpected disaster brought him crashing back to earth. He held her close and tried to soothe her, not to mention to ignore the throbbing erection threatening to split his jeans. “Ssh. Hey, come on, darlin', don't cry.” He shouldn't have done that. He'd thought it was something she might want, need even. Obviously not.

The scent of her arousal was unmistakable, but she was also scared. Maybe non-experience with the boyfriend meant non-experience with everyone else, too. And what a cryin' shame that was.

Rocking her in his arms, he tried to get her to calm down. “Marie, stop. I'm not gonna hurt you, I won't touch you again. I swear it.”

Swallowing her tears away, Marie wiped off her face and sniffed. She pulled back a little and looked up at him, and whether it only made her more pathetic or not, she asked. “Not even if I want you to?”

Now really confused, Logan frowned at her. He ran a finger along her cheek, traced her mouth. “Baby, you've had some serious heartache lately. Maybe you're just not thinkin' straight.”

“Trust me, thinking has nothing to do with it.” She needed this, so badly. She wanted to be wanted. Was that so wrong?

Her voice was barely there. “Touch me, Logan. Please?”

It didn't take a whole lot of convincing to get Logan to agree.

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Marie stood awkwardly by her truck and fidgeted. She watched Logan cranking down the last lug nut on a new tire, admiring the play of his shoulders beneath his t-shirt. The day was already beginning to heat up, but she thought the weather had little to do with her clammy hands.

She looked over to his bike, fully packed up and again parked beneath the trees across from red's Gas, and tried not think about how much she'd miss riding on it with him.

“Okay, darlin', looks like you're all set.” Logan heaved her tool box into the cab and stepped up to her. She wouldn't quite look at him. Her first 'morning after.' He supposed it shouldn't surprise him she was feeling out of her depth. He wasn't handling this terribly well himself.

He rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands in his front pockets. He wasn't quite sure what to do with them. “So. Visit the old hometown then head back up north? That the plan?”

Marie smiled a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and nodded her head brightly. “Yup. Just want to take a look at the place. Might as well, I came all the way down here already.”

He considered asking her just where exactly in New York she lived. It was a big state and the chances of them running into each other were virtually nil. But both of them in the northeast, they could maybe make plans to hook up. It was a crazy idea, as her ever finding out anything about him was too great a risk. She'd no doubt run screaming. Still, he was almost willing to chance it. There were several humans on Xavier's staff, or there had been last time he'd been there - which, admittedly, was years ago. Maybe Logan could find her a position there.

He stopped spinning this ridiculous fantasy as soon as she opened her mouth.

“Thanks for everything, Logan. Have a good trip.” She'd never asked him where he was going. What did it matter? It wasn't like he was going to ask her to go with him or anything. She knew she'd never see him again.

Determinedly making an effort not to let any tears get the better of her, only wanting to get this good-bye over with before her heart fell to pieces, she settled an arm around his neck and whispered in his ear.

“I'll never forget you. Take care of yourself, Logan.”

She slipped from his arms before he could come up with anything to say, climbed into her truck and started it up.

Never forget you. It was like she already had. She couldn't seem to get away from him fast enough. Having given it up, to a man she'd just met and obviously didn't want to see again, was evidently hastening her efforts to leave.

Last night - well, last night had been incredible. He would've sworn on his life that it had been more than good for her. Maybe he was only deluding himself.

Fighting off the miserable ache in his chest, he woodenly headed for his bike and climbed on.

Driving off in opposite directions, they both watched in their mirrors as the other's vehicle disappeared around two respective bends.

Marie rolled to a stop in a Dairy Queen parking lot on the outskirts of a dusty town. Curbs were more a suggestion than a demarcation between the street and the unevenly cracked sidewalks.

Parked half in and half out of the shade of the building, she squinted against the glare of hot sunshine laddered across the windshield from overhanging tree limbs. At least the layer of bugs had acted as a filter of sorts. The glass, however, was now squeaky clean. Logan had taken care of that for her. He'd taken rather a lot else, too.

She didn't regret it. Not really. What was squeezing all the air from her lungs and churning her stomach into a sick-making knot was the fact that Logan was forever out of reach. It was lunacy to get attached to a human; they tended to freak once the truth was discovered.

She could have told him. She could have told him at the outset and avoided the heartache now churning its way through her with a miserable ache. He seemed like a decent guy and he might have agreed to help her anyway. Sometimes people did that sort of thing for those unlike them. But he certainly wouldn't have touched her.

And the way he'd touched her… it was hard to think of anything else. Images from last night ran in a constant slideshow in the back of her mind.

She'd expected it to hurt, but it hadn't. Not in the slightest. His hands sliding over her body, his mouth on her breasts, he'd skillfully tipped her over the edge of her inexperience in a delirium of sensation. Wonderfully attentive and keenly attuned to her every response, he had let her explore him and satisfy her curiosity; had shown her things that made her blush just to think about. With her hands tangled in his thick dark hair, she'd flown away on a starburst of the most exquisite pleasure imaginable.

Lacking any sort of framework in which to make judgments, she still knew without a doubt that she had pleased him. Watching the beautiful agony on his face and feeling his heart explode in his chest as he finally lost it, she'd been awed at how intense it was for him. Lying exhausted in his arms afterwards, the moist aroma of the earthy moss combined with that of their spent lovemaking, he'd trailed his fingers through her hair and whispered to her - told her how beautiful she was, how precious; how privileged he felt for letting him be the one to show her this.

She didn't disbelieve him. She only knew it could never go anywhere. He was quite a bit older than she was and probably had a string of women readily available in every city he stopped in. Even if he could ever see past the fact of her mutancy, Marie held no illusions about her ability to compete. She was simply too inexperienced to keep a world-wise man like Logan content for long.

She knew virtually nothing about him. Overly involved with her own troubles, she'd made few inquiries, something she now regretted. Then again, maybe it was better this way. A brief encounter with a stranger, her first foray into the world of sensuality - a beautiful memory and nothing more. But what she'd told him was the God's honest truth. She would never forget him.

The heat inside the cab was starting to be uncomfortable, enough so that she shook herself back to the here and now. Running her hands through her hair, she grabbed her pack and hopped out. At the walk-up window of the old-style Dairy Queen, she ordered a lime Slushee, something she had liked as a kid, though the fluorescent color was far more alarming than she remembered. She sniffed at it suspiciously, momentarily wondering if it was toxic.

Finding a plastic picnic table in the shade, avoiding the worst of the smeared stickiness, she plunked down and pulled out her cell phone.

“Jubilee? Yeah, it's me.”

Marie rolled her eyes and pulled the phone away from her ear, as the squeal coming out of the phone was several decibels past tolerable.

“Yes, I'm fine. I'll be back in a couple days.”

She listened as Jubilee breathlessly jabbered on and on. Everyone was wondering what had become of her. There was no mention of Bobby. Had the asshole destroyed the note she'd left and told no one? Seems he must have. It made her blood boil.

“Listen, Jubes - you got a few minutes?” She was dying to tell Jubilee about last night, about the incredible man she'd met. She chickened out. What could she possibly say that would convey what she felt? No, Logan was going to stay her own closely guarded and treasured secret. It was all she had.

Jubilee, standing on the back verandah of Xavier's school in Westchester, was watching the younger kids splashing in the lawn sprinklers like spastic wind-up toys and generally making a hellacious racket. She quickly stepped inside and made her way to the hush of the library.

“Marie, you gonna tell me why you ran out of here?”

Taking a deep breath, Marie gritted her teeth and started to talk.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yellow highway stripes ran in hypnotic procession under the bike, but Logan didn't really see them. What he was seeing was last night, replayed in his mind over and over and over again.

He didn't regret it. Not really. He knew it was a damned big decision for her, the biggest, but having asked several times if she was sure, he didn't feel he'd pressured her for anything she didn't want to give. He even understood that payback or getting even had in no way been a motivating factor, and he wasn't quite so egotistical as to believe his charming self had merely swept her off her feet. It was something else. Just what, though, he wasn't entirely sure.

No stranger to one-night stands, Logan had had his fair share of morning-afters and perfunctory good-byes. Sometimes with spiked heels flung at his head and indignant screeching; sometimes with fond smiles and a sweet kiss in farewell. But Marie wasn't anything at all like those others; there wasn't a shred of artifice about her. Every breath, every moan and shiver, every sensuous expression of delight, was entirely genuine. She'd succumbed to the experience as if she'd never been touched before, and not just sexually, but as if she'd never been touched at all. The wonder in her eyes, the trembling smile on her lips, were like nothing he'd ever encountered before. The only regret he was struggling with now was not having pressed her for more information. Like how to find her again.

Whatever is was about her that mesmerized him so wasn't something he could afford to dwell on. Normalcy, whatever that was, he'd long ago given up on trying to find. In any case, no woman would stand the idea of pairing up with the likes of him for long. Eventually, she'd find out; 'normal' wasn't something he would ever be.

The bike stuttered, bringing his attention back to his surroundings. Glancing down, he was astonished at what the gas gauge was telling him. Oh, for crying out fucking loud! He was maybe a sixteenth of a mile from running out of gas. How the hell had that happened? The level of the light finally registered, too. It was near dusk.

Unsettled that he'd drifted off in introspection so badly, he took the next exit and prayed for a gas station to appear. None did.

An hour later, he was walking back to his bike, in the dark, with a gas can in hand.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marie stared around the room in dismay. After her conversation with Jubilee, she was so exhausted that more driving was something she just couldn't face.

A string of tiny bungalows lay scattered from the main road back into the edge of a swamp. A motel that had seen better days more than half a century ago, the place offered what she thought would be a nice touch of privacy. It was a hellhole.

Only one lamp worked. The air conditioner was merely a prop. The plumbing clanked and spurted in a scary way and the bed was a sagging lump of knobby bedsprings. The kitchenette appliances, she didn't dare touch. The only decent surprises were crisp snowy sheets that looked almost brand new and a ceiling fan that, miraculously, spun in a wobbling circle enough to move the air around.

There was a porch, too. A stretch of weathered boards that ended in the two mostly collapsed stairs that she'd nearly tripped on, dragging her bags in with her. High weeds reached almost to the railing in places. Now, sitting on the porch steps, she watched the sun sinking into the swamp and wondered just what to do.

How could she be so blind? How could she be so dumb? According to Jubilee, Bobby's ongoing affair with his best friend had been ongoing for a long damn time, and everyone knew about it but her.

Jubilee had sputtered and stammered. “But we all thought you knew!”

Marie felt so ridiculously naive she wanted to hide. She wanted Logan's strong arms around her, to keep her safe from her own stupidity. She wanted to rewind the last twenty-four hours and make it come out different, wanted to turn her back on her life and just ride off with him, for however long it lasted, though it probably wouldn't be for long.

She wanted a lot of things, but what she wanted most was to be somebody else.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Logan kept the throttle open and his mouth shut. Fucking bugs!

After refueling his empty bike, he'd intended to just drive off into a field and give it up for the night, but found he was far too restless. He wasn't even hungry, which for him was pretty much the definition of unheard of. Getting where he was going seemed the only sensible option. Charles had been in steadily increasing contact with him over the last year. It was time to run to ground. Politically, things were heating up.

An hour past dawn, the gates of Professor Xavier's School for the Gifted rose into view. Downshifting, Logan rolled up to the gates and stopped. Wonder of wonders, his security code still worked. Snapping closed the cover on the panel after jabbing at the appropriate buttons, he waited for the gates crank open.

As he rode up the long curving drive to the Mansion, the first thing his eyes went to were the far corner windows on the third floor. Jean. Jean and Dudley Do-Right - the latter more commonly known as Scott Summers.

Charles had informed Logan more than two years ago that the school's darling couple had finally married. He figured Jean must be outta her fucking mind, but if the pipsqueak made her happy, then Logan was happy for her. He also figured needling Scott by openly flirting with his woman oughta drive the guy right up the wall.

Logan could hardly wait.

Chuckling to himself, he switched off the bike. Five years of aimless wandering and futile searching, interspersed with cloak-and-dagger assignments from Charles from time to time, was over. Though he almost hated to admit it, he was glad to be back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marie gave up on trying to sleep a little after midnight. Screw this. The incessant croaking of the frogs in the nearby swamp did not make what one could call a restful backdrop. The South could just go fuck itself. She didn't even want to drive all the way to Meridian to look at her former home. No doubt it would only be more depressing.

Hastily shoving her belongings into a pack, she got dressed and practically ran for her truck. There was no Logan to see her through this dreadful night, and there never would be again. Going back to New York might mean facing things she'd only wanted to run from, but it was somehow easier than being here, longing for the man she'd shared herself with only last night.

She would drive straight through, if need be. Anything to get out of the South.

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“Logan!”

He was barely inside the great hallway and dropping his duffel bag to the floor when Jean's voice floated from the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Jeannie.” To Logan's undying delight, Summers was standing right behind her on the staircase. He looked crestfallen.

Jean came running up to him and gave him a huge welcoming hug. “Logan, I'm so glad you've finally decided to come home.” She squeaked as a large hand squeezed her ass and she immediately let go of him.

Logan smirked at the blush creeping up her cheeks and laughed outright at the look on Scott's face. Being a troublemaker was a very rewarding side job.

Logan threw the keys to the bike at Scott as he made his way down the stairs, and Scott caught them deftly.

“Your bike needs gas.”

Scott glanced at the keys in his hand. “It still in one piece?”

“Mostly.”

The keys came zinging right back at him. “So fill it up.” Scott prissily turned on his heel and left.

Kitty phased through the door into her room, a hand on her heart. The shower was running. She banged a fist on the closed bathroom door and yelled at her roommate. “Jubilee! Jubes, come out of there!”

Jubilee wiped the shampoo out of her eyes and listened. “What?” she yelled back.

“Just hurry up!”

Jubilee hastily grabbed a towel and, wrapping herself up, yanked the door open in annoyance. “What's the emergency?”

Kitty was practically floating out of her shoes. “The Wolverine is back!”

Jubilee's eyes widened. “Really?”

The Wolverine was the stuff of legend around there. He was said to be mean-tempered and more than likely to hack you to pieces with his claws rather than engage in conversation, a growling feral beast-man best avoided if you knew what was good for you.

“I haven't seen him yet, “ Kitty jabbered on with an unconscious shiver. “But I heard him. He was talking to the Professor in his office.” Kitty had then wisely run off, hearing them approaching the doorway.

“What's he sound like? He scary?”

Kitty frowned unevenly. “Well…no. Not really. He even laughed.”

They both turned this unsettling bit of information over for a moment. “That doesn't sound right,” Jubilee offered at last.

Kitty agreed. “No, it doesn't. But I'd step lightly around here for a while all the same.”

Jubilee dropped her towel without a shred of embarrassment and Kitty, as always somewhat taken aback by her roommate's immodesty, moved to the window while Jubes got dressed.

“Ohmygod! Look! That's gotta be him.”

Both girls stood at the window and looked out. There was a man off in the distance by the garages. They couldn't really see him very well but what he was doing caused them both to gasp in horror.

Jubilee stepped back from the window, her eyes wide. “He's gonna eat that poor dog.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Logan scrubbed a hand over his face and yawned. “Okay, Chuck. Gimme a day to settle in and we'll talk. I'm beat.” He was also starving.

Charles moved his wheelchair and accompanied Logan to the door, telling him how very pleased he was that Logan had returned. “I'm afraid your reputation has taken on some rather mythological proportions among the students. Do try and not frighten them unnecessarily.”

Logan laughed under his breath and cocked an eyebrow at the Professor. “Me? Scare people? Wouldn't dream of it.”

He strode off through the mansion for the front entryway, to stow the bike and retrieve the rest of his gear. At the garages, he gave Xavier's collection of vehicles the once-over. No shortage of them, that was for sure. He eyed the 4x4 Dodge Ram at the end of the row and made a mental note to hide the keys. It was the beefiest of the vehicles available and he didn't want to get stuck with a piece of shit compact should the need arise to make a quick trip with something other than Scott's bike.

Stepping back out into the sunshine, he had to drop his pack as he was nearly bowled over by a mound of grinning fur. A black Lab, eagerly smiling a dopey dog-smile and wagging its tail furiously, was attempting to climb up his chest.

“Whoa, take it easy, pooch.” Ruffling its ears, Logan gave it a good pat and the dog only smiled wider. And then it hit him. Grabbing the dog more firmly, he lowered his face into the animal's coat and inhaled deeply.

Couldn't be. No fucking way. The dog smelled like the inside of Marie's truck.

“As I live and breathe! Logan, that you?” Pete, the elderly groundskeeper, came shuffling up with a sack of potting soil hefted onto a shoulder. “Come 'ere, you goofy dog. Leave the man alone. Fang! Get over here, boy.”

Fang squirmed with delight at all the attention and Logan finally let go of him. The dog jumped in crazy circles and saliva went flying every which way. Logan wiped a hand across his mouth to dislodge a ribbon of slime.

Fang? It had to be the most inappropriate dog name in history. This critter would only grin someone to death, not bite them.

Pete set his load of potting soil on the ground and leaned over to bang his happy pooch on the ribs. “Sorry 'bout that. He's a little too friendly sometimes.”

Logan brushed his palm over his jeans to rid it of doggy slime and went to shake the old man's hand. “Good to see you, Pete. They keeping you busy?”

“Oh, like always. Kids pull some crazy shit on me from time to time but I love this place.” Pete gazed out across the lush grounds, a testament to his hard work and genuine fondness for growing things. “Professor's always been good to me. I'll be here 'til I kick the bucket. No retirement for this old fool.”

Logan's attention went back to the dog. “You had him long?”

“A few years now. He's a good hound, keeps me company. Sheds something fierce but I guess they all do.” With a grunt, Pete again picked up his bag of potting soil and thumped it down into a wheelbarrow. “Well, I got to get. Nice to have you home, Logan. I'll be seein' you.”

Logan stood there, puzzled, watching Pete and Fang head out across the grounds. Couldn't be. Surely one dog smelled much like another and maybe his tired brain had just made a connection that wasn't really there. Besides, what would Pete's dog have been doing in Marie's truck? It didn't make any sense. Then again, she'd said that she lived in New York - and that the truck wasn't really hers. He took another look at the long row of vehicles available in the garage. Christ almighty.

“Pete! Hold up.” Logan grabbed his pack and caught up to him. “Listen - um.” Logan was suddenly unsure just what to ask. “The students - you know 'em pretty well?”

Pete pulled at an ear, cocking his head. “No, not really. Those young'uns are awful busy. Don't have much time for an old man like me.” He grunted out a humorless laugh. “Seems one of 'em run off with my truck, though, so me and the wheelbarrow have been getting reacquainted as of late. Hope she gets back here quick. My back's been givin' me some grief.”

Logan stared at him, his mouth open.

Confused, Pete frowned and reached a hand to Logan's shoulder. “Son, you okay?”

His confusion only mounted as Logan's face slowly lit up in a huge grin - and he started to laugh.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Suddenly no longer tired, in fact highly energized and with a renewed appreciation for just how famished he was, Logan found both Jean and Scott in the dining hall having breakfast. Piling up a mound of food, Logan banged his overly laden plate on their table and sat down, shoveling eggs and bacon and sausage into his mouth at a furious pace.

Scott watched him with undisguised irritation, his arms folded over his chest. “Don't choke.” His tone made it perfectly clear that was just what he wanted Logan to do.

Taking a moment to swallow, Logan gave him a grim smile that held anything but humor, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Bite me, Summers.”

Jean rolled her eyes. These two…what a pair of idiots they turned into in each other's company.

Ignoring Scott, Logan asked Jean about the student that absconded with the groundskeeper's truck. “Think I might've run into her just outside Memphis.”

Jean's brows shot up. “Tennessee? Scott, you think she's heading back home?” Meridian, Mississippi, wasn't terribly far from where Logan said he thought he'd seen her.

Behind his ruby-tinted shades, Scott narrowed his eyes at Logan. “What do you mean, 'ran into her'?” And just how well had Logan gotten to know her, to be asking questions? His blood started to boil. “You touch her? You son of a bitch, you lay a hand on that girl?” Christ, this was all Marie needed. What rotten luck to run into Logan, of all people, at this precarious stage in her life.

Jean jumped to her feet, grabbed Scott by the arm and quickly dragged him out of the dining hall. “Let me deal with this. You two can't talk to each other without getting into a fight and that's not the best way to handle this. Get!” She shoved him none-too-gently toward the stairs.

Scott stood there, smoldering. “You find out just what he's talking about, Jean. I want a full report on this.” He shot another glare at Logan before pounding up the stairs.

As Jean walked back to the table, Logan was becoming more furious by the moment, mostly at himself. How could he be so monumentally stupid as to have made any inquiries with the Boy Wonder hanging around? Maybe the lack of sleep was taking its toll. Then another thought struck him: that so-called boyfriend of hers must be one of the students here as well.

The fork in his hand was beginning to bend under the pressure. Belatedly realizing what he was doing, he heaved it into the remains of his breakfast, suddenly through with eating.

“Jean, can we hit your office for some privacy? We need to talk.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jubilee and Kitty gave way as Jean and who they had to assume was the Wolverine came barreling out of the dining hall. Jubilee had run smack into his chest.

He reached to steady her, hands on her shoulders. “You okay, kid?”

Jubilee blinked up at him stupidly. His voice poured over her like warm molasses. Neither loud nor menacing, it was nevertheless commanding. Her voice, on the other hand, was little more than a croak.

“Yeah, I'm fine.”

He looked at her a little funny, dark eyes dropping over her in assessment before turning to follow Jean down the hall.

Jubilee stared after them. “Holy cow.” Of all the things she'd heard said about Logan, not one of them mentioned the fact that the man was sex on a stick.

She searched his retreating form - and what a magnificent form it was - for signs of violence, blood, bite marks. Dog hair. None were in evidence.

Kitty reached for her arm. “Think Fang is still in one piece?”

Jubilee swallowed, recalling how Logan had been manhandling Pete's dog. But maybe he'd only been hugging the animal. The discordant clash of thoughts clanged loudly in her brain. What she'd come to believe about Logan and what she'd witnessed just didn't add up. Her next thought was: Lucky dog.

“I, uh, dunno, Kit.” She shook her head as if to clear it and glanced into the dining hall. “I'm off my feed. How about a swim then an early lunch later?”

Kitty agreed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bobby was miserable. Dangling his feet in the pool, he watched the sun rippling its way across the surface and tried to figure out how he'd gotten himself in this predicament. Jubilee had spilled her conversation with Marie to him just last night and he'd lain awake until dawn, finally making his way down to the pool to try and sort things out. He felt just horrible.

To Bobby's way of thinking, Marie had never been his girlfriend. Friend, definitely; a very good friend. But girlfriend, no.

Bobby thought it ridiculous that no one much wanted to hang out with her, scared of accidentally brushing up against her skin and getting the life sucked out of them. Bobby had never been one to avoid her, though. In fact, he'd gone out of his way to spend time with her. He'd thought he was being noble. And it wasn't just that - he genuinely enjoyed her company. She was sweet and charming and funny; upbeat, when her life situation should have made her otherwise. He respected the strength of character she projected.

Seems Marie had seen things differently, however. She'd assumed their friendship made them a couple, and even though on occasion it had given Bobby pause, the fact that she seemed to read more into their relationship than was really there, Bobby had never had the heart to tell her otherwise. Besides, everyone knew about him and John. Or so he'd assumed. Marie's innocence about the entire matter came as a great shock to him. It was so goddamned obvious! How could she not catch on?

He'd avoided discussions of intimacy, as he thought it would be sort of cruel given her situation, but it had now became apparent that that was entirely the wrong strategy. Bobby wanted to kick himself. Hurting Marie was never something he wanted to do.

How could he be so stupid? After gaining control of her mutation recently, she'd been more vivacious, more eager, during the moments they shared, seemingly waiting for something, and the reason why only occurred to him after finding the note she'd left.

That note. He wanted to cringe. Unbeknownst to either John or himself, she'd seen them. He could only imagine what a shock it must've been for her, how betrayed she must've felt. She'd accused him of using her, of being a coward by not openly proclaiming his true nature. But what was there to proclaim? Everyone knew.

Heaving another miserable sigh, he wished John were here. John, however, had left for a vacation home the very day Marie disappeared. He wouldn't be back for another two weeks. The lucky bastard, skipping out on the whole mess just when it blew up in Bobby's face.

He glanced up as girlish voices were heard coming down the path. Oh, great. Blabbermouth and Kitty.

He grabbed his sandals, quickly put them back on and beat a hasty retreat.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Logan paced in Jean's office, thinking over all she'd told him. About Marie, about her mutation; about how she'd so recently attained mastery over it. About that little bastard Bobby, although it looked like Marie was dead wrong in her assessment of the kid. Still, Logan wanted to pound him into pulp. Someone should pay for the hell she'd been put through. Bobby seemed like the logical candidate.

Jean watched him and tried to understand what was the cause of his great level of concern. The only thing he'd told her was that he'd helped Marie out with a flat tire. It didn't seem possible he would get this worked up over a brief encounter with a young woman on the side of the road. Didn't make any sense.

“Logan, just exactly what happened between you two?” Why on earth had Marie poured her heartache out to a stranger over the length of time it took to change a flat? It was completely out of character. Jean couldn't figure this one out.

Logan stopped pacing and looked her dead in the eye. Though it came as quite a shock, his look told her all she needed to know. She felt color rising in her face and dropped her eyes. “Oh.”

“Don't give me that, Jeannie. She's an adult. She's twenty, for God's sake.”

Twenty, however, sounded like twelve, given the differences in their life experience. He did his best not to feel guilty about it. He could hardly be held accountable for not knowing the reasons behind her overly protracted innocence. “Besides, she was more the instigator than I was.” Sort of. Well, fuck. The details of who touched who first and the motivations behind it hardly mattered at this point. What really mattered was how they were going to handle living under the same roof, given Marie's obvious desire to get away from him as fast as possible.

Logan slouched into a chair and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. This complication the moment he'd stepped back into residence here wasn't going to make things easy. God knew, it wouldn't be easy for Marie, either.

Jean continued to observe him. She'd known Logan a long time, knew him very well in fact. They conversed regularly, every few months by phone or hand-delivered written correspondence included with packages sent to and from Charles. They'd grown rather close, although Scott continued to chafe at any sort of camaraderie between them. Scott lost all sense of perspective where Logan was concerned. He'd never forgiven him for the outrageous flirtation he'd perpetrated with Jean beginning the moment he'd landed here, seven long years ago. It was one of the reasons Logan had finally left, doing Xavier's bidding by long distance arrangement instead. Scott never quite seemed to catch on - that it was far more about getting his goat than getting his woman.

Jean felt a smile blossoming across her face as understanding dawned. “She got to you, didn't she?”

Logan didn't move, but his eyes shifted to hers. He held her look for a long moment before his eyes drifted away, thinking it over. He seemed surprised by his own answer. “Yeah. Guess she did.”

Jean shook her head and gathered up some stray papers for her day's work, and thought Why not? On the surface, they were just about as wrong for each other as it was possible to be - an overly naive and innocent young woman just stepping into her life and a jaded man with a nightmarish past and the weight of the world on his shoulders. Who knew? They just might make it work.

Before leaving and telling him to get his ass upstairs to get some much-needed sleep, she thought to ask him something else.

“How about Marie? Think she feels the same way?” She could easily picture Marie swooning over Logan. Many women had and Jean could almost count herself among their ranks. Though their tight friendship was something that would never be acted on in a physical sense, Jean was terribly fond of him.

Logan stood and cracked his knuckles, all the light seeming to go out of his eyes. “Yeah, well, that's the catch, isn't it? 'Cause I don't think so.”

Surprised, Jean said, “Oh? What makes you say that?”

He only looked away and stared out the window.

Jean let go a sigh, realizing there were more complications here than he'd let on. “I don't have any answers for you, Logan. You'll just have to wait till she gets home and take it from there. You've got a few days to think things over. You want to talk again, just let me know.”

Jean felt badly for him but had run out of things to say. She came and gave him a quick smooch on the cheek then took her leave.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marie checked the mileage for the three millionth time and vowed to never again try and drive for eighteen hours straight. She could barely keep her eyes open.

Within a hundred miles of home, she finally gave up and pulled over. She was afraid she'd get in a wreck if she continued to push it. It was just after 6:00 PM and the sun was becoming hazy through cloud cover to the west. A few hours' sleep, and she figured she could still be home by midnight.

Too tired to hunt for a motel room, she simply lay down on the bench seat in her truck at a rest stop and passed out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Logan slept the rest of the day away. Well after dark, he finally got up, took a shower and wondered how to get his days and nights lined up again. Healing factor aside, irregular hours were known to make him more than a little cranky.

He considered raiding the kitchens, but wasn't quite up to settling in just yet. The prospect of running into some of the student population was also not appealing. Instead, he headed for the garages, saw Scott had refueled the bike in all his robot-like need for order. He had himself a good laugh, then fired it up and headed out to the nearest bar.

It was just past midnight when he pulled up the long curving driveway for the second time that day.

“So he didn't say?” Scott looked blankly at his watch, not believing it was nearly midnight already. What a freaking day. Meeting after meeting with Charles, plans and schedules and security procedures; contingency measures should the worst happen. He was still fretting over those, unable to let go of the nagging suspicion that he'd missed something. And the day had gotten off to such a wonderful start, too. He thought he might just skip breakfast tomorrow, thank you very much.

Jean shook her head innocently, although it was true. Logan hadn't verbalized what had happened between him and Marie; he'd merely given her a look-one that told her plenty, but she wasn't about to voice it out loud, even to Scott. What they'd discussed was private. Being used to matters of confidentiality, as her position as the school's physician necessitated it, Jean had no problems keeping her mouth shut.

“Well, what did he say?” Scott tiredly stripped the rest of his clothes off, tossing them on a chair. He was too bushed even to pick up after himself, a rarity indeed. He'd been under a lot of strain lately, so much so that he'd flown off the handle and taken aim at the first available target - Logan.

He knew he'd been out of line, a knee-jerk reaction more ingrained by habit than anything else. When Logan was around he had someone to disagree with, could let off some steam and let the control slip a little. They'd had some hellacious and monstrously crude shouting matches in the past, ones that escalated to the absurd in an effort to top the other. In the end, it usually left them breathless with laughter at their sheer inventiveness. The well-timed insult was a fine art, something for which they both had an appreciation. Scott hadn't had that outlet in a long time. Hassling Logan was kinda fun.

It hadn't been fun this morning. They'd gotten their bitching sessions off on the wrong foot, the timing all wrong and the subject a little too raw. Scott had come off sounding like a fool and he wasn't one.

Logan assuredly had an eye for the women - that was no secret. But the man wasn't a sexual predator and Scott knew that. Mention of Marie, however, brought a protective streak a mile wide. Marie and Don't touch were two thoughts that seemed inextricably linked; the words just went together. They always had. The fact that she now could touch just made him worry about her all the more.

Jean went about picking up his things as he flopped backward onto the bed. She'd been plenty steamed at how he'd handled himself this morning, but she did understand the reasons why. Scott labored under too much pressure and had been shouldering the load with little help. Though he'd probably never admit it, she knew he was glad Logan was back. It was only once Logan had left here that Scott truly realized how much he'd come to rely on him, outrageous flirt or not. In any case, Logan had never crossed a line with Jean that couldn't be laughed off. But back then, there'd been times when Scott stubbornly failed to see the humor and things had gotten uncomfortable for all three of them. So Logan had bowed out.

Over the years they'd kept up the pretense of hating each other's guts. It gave them a common ground of sorts. Not once, though, had their strange dynamic interfered with Scott's position as team leader, nor had Logan ever failed to back him up. Scott was no dummy and playing the role of uptight Boy Scout gave Logan room to swagger. Because when push came to shove, Scott was still Logan's boss and you didn't keep a wild animal on too tight a leash. If you wanted him on your side, you gave him enough leeway to act.

Jean let her flaming red satin robe fall and tossed the armload of Scott's clothing into the bathroom. “He didn't say much, really. But I do know that neither of them realized the truth, not at the time. They can both pass as human, just like a lot of us do. No reason to broadcast who you are if you don't need to.”

Scott thought it over, wondering how he was going to make himself apologize the next day, although he knew he should. Logan's business was his business and Marie's was her own as well, and though it was hard to think of her that way, time did march on. She'd grown up. She'd changed. Recently, she'd changed a lot. She would sink or swim on her own without him looking after her every step of the way and second-guessing her choices for her. Besides, would it be so bad if they got together? Marie could do a lot worse than Logan, especially if the political situation started to deteriorate. There were few, if any, men that could offer a better safety net.

Jean slipped into bed next to him and he felt a comforting brush of her mind across his.

“Oh, Scott, you don't need to apologize. You both get a kick out of needling each other. Always have. But you might want to rein it in a notch or two.”

Scott sighed. “Yeah, I know.” He took a last look at his watch before chucking it at the nightstand. He missed. It went sailing over the edge to bounce on the carpet.

Scott slumped in defeat. “You wake me before seven tomorrow and I'll spank the daylights out of you.”

Jean snuggled closer, soundlessly giggling in his ear. “Promise?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marie pulled the truck into the garage, hunting tiredly for an open space. The vehicles had been moved around since she'd been here and Pete's maintenance supplies and tools were scattered about. She felt a jab of guilt for that. Without his truck, Pete must have had to make do.

Her eyes burned with the strain of night driving and she felt grimy and sticky and cramped from too many hours behind the wheel. The moth that had flown in to keep her company ten miles ago still had not found her open window. The window only went down about six inches before complaining and she'd left it at that, not wanting to force it and maybe break something else. She eyed the lone windshield wiper and wondered how much a new set of wiper blades were going to cost her.

The moth sat fluttering atop the ignition switch. For some reason, it had kept stubbornly to her side of the cab the entire time. She'd cranked the passenger side window down all the way in an attempt to pull some air into the cab against the summer's heat, but the moth never went near it. Stupid bug.

Marie shooed it away to shut the engine off and the moth went mindlessly skating along the windshield. The truck gave up with a hiccup and a wheeze. Seemed the truck was glad to be home, too.

Gathering up her bags, she got the straps hefted over a shoulder and popped the door open. She drew up short as the door banged into something solid; it would only open a few inches. Plastering her cheek against the glass, she tried to look straight down. There was something in the way but she couldn't tell what. Whatever it was, it was damned heavy.

Oh, fine! Whatever. She'd just use the other door. Scooting along the seat, shoving her bags along in front of her, her progress slowly came to a halt as she regarded the support pillar outside the passenger side window. It was far too close. She'd never get this door open, either.

For crying out loud! Could nothing go right? With forced calmness, she untangled herself from her bags and again dug out the keys. All she had to do was back up a foot or two and she could get the door open.

It shouldn't have surprised her in the least that the truck wouldn't start.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Logan cut the bike's engine and coasted up the drive, a long-ingrained habit after dark. The groundskeeper's quarters were over the garage and Logan didn't want to wake him. Not only that, but Logan often kept late hours. No sense advertising the fact he'd been out prowling-even if he hadn't been, not really. Not tonight.

He glanced up to his left as the light flicked off in the far corner windows on the third floor. Shit. Looked like Jean and Scooter were in for the night. He'd been hoping to talk a few things over with her, things she might help shed some light on. Jean was a woman; she had to know a bit about how Marie's mind worked, and she'd known Marie a long time.

He'd pondered the situation over a few shots of whiskey and an absent-minded game of pool, but had no idea if he was even in the ballpark. But what he thought, what he hoped, was that the reason Marie had left so abruptly was because she'd been in pretty much the same quandary as himself - mutants didn't hook up with humans. Not often, at any rate. Maybe she'd just thought there was no future in it, that the inevitability of discovery was too great a risk. He knew that's where his thoughts had gone to, thinking things over on the drive up here.

Then again, maybe he was just the biggest fool on the planet and she regretted having slept with him, giving up her innocence to a man she'd just met. Even if she'd wanted it at the time, and there was no denying she did, morning-afters were always the time for doubts and second-guessing to set in.

The unanswered questions were making him edgy and restless. He was even considering driving down to Meridian to try and find her. Waiting around for her to get home was going to drive him nuts.

Summers was driving him nuts, too. The guy had acted like a complete dick this morning. Not that that was anything new, but this time he'd been decidedly vicious, personal even, and that was not a level their verbal jousting usually sank to. He figured something must be bugging the guy and he'd just snapped. Logan would have to corner him tomorrow and find out just what it was. Oh joy.

Rolling past the last tree along the driveway, he suddenly hit the brakes. The garage door was open and there was a familiar truck squished between stacked bags of dry cement and a support pillar. She couldn't have cut it any closer if she'd tried to thread a needle.

Holy Christ. She was back already.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marie sat with her head lowered on her hands on the steering wheel. This couldn't be happening. Two fucking feet from home and she was stuck.

She'd thought to just crawl out the passenger side window, but the support pillar was almost as wide as the door. Unless she found a handy magic mushroom that said Eat Me and shrank a whole bunch, she wasn't going anywhere. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the moth lazily tip-tapping across the dashboard - a flutter of wings, a pause, another flutter, in no hurry to get anywhere, la dee da.

She suddenly reached out to snatch it, hoping to herd it out the top of her window - but with her bags on the seat, and in the way, she couldn't quite reach it as it went swooping and dipping in the other direction, turning this way and that as if inspecting things. Then it tumbled drunkenly out the open passenger side window and fluttered away to get on with its buggy little life.

Arrgh!! A fucking bug could get out of here but she couldn't? She started to thrash and yank on the steering wheel in utter frustration, her hair flying every which way and kicking at the floorboards. She was close to screaming.

“Whoa, darlin'. Need a hand?” Logan could hardly believe how pissed off she was. Why hadn't she just backed out?

Marie nearly jumped out of her skin. There was a man standing next to the pillar and peeking around the doorframe at her. It was Logan. It couldn't be, but it was Logan.

She stared at him, her eyes wide and her mouth open. Had he followed her here? How had he gotten past the gates?

“Baby, say somethin'. You all right?”

“What - what're you doing here?” Was he a stalker? A bounty hunter? A ghost? At this point, she was betting on the latter.

“I, uh, live here.”

“What?!”

Logan couldn't help it; he started to laugh. It seemed to be a theme. Her eyes were as big as saucers. “Let's get you out of here and I'll explain. Start it up and back out.”

Marie couldn't get her mind working. Lived here? What did he mean? “Uh - um, I can't. It won't start.”

Logan's eyebrows went crooked. “Remind me never to drive with you anywhere. Pop the brake, darlin', and put it in neutral.”

Marie was frozen; she couldn't stop staring at him. “Who - who are you?”

His grin faded and he looked at her steadily, a hand resting on the doorframe. **snikt**

Her eyes got wider, though Logan wasn't sure how. “That tell you anything? I'm not exactly a state secret around here.” Another **snikt** and the adamantium blades disappeared.

Marie looked at him in shock. “You're - you're the Wolv - you're Logan. You're that Logan?”

“How many Logans do you know? Come on, baby, pop the brake so I can roll this thing back. Let's get you outta here.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marie stumbled along next to him, letting him carry her bags. She couldn't get over the fact of who he was. What he was. And that he was here.

She'd heard many a tall tale about the Wolverine, scary stories featuring severed limbs and gnashing teeth; mangled flesh that melted before your eyes and remade itself. A blackly quiet rage barely held in check until the first menacing growl signified his stealthy presence. It was said to be the last thing you'd ever hear other than your own screams.

Yet Logan wasn't anything like that. She couldn't overlap the myth with the man, no matter how hard she tried.

He opened the door to her room like he'd been doing it all his life and stood there waiting for her to precede him. She scooted past, not quite realizing she'd hurried. Logan caught it, though. Maybe her finding out who he was would slam the door on this anyhow. The thought was a terrible disappointment.

He dropped her bags next to the bed and took a look around. He wanted more than anything to yank her into his arms and kiss her until she couldn't breathe. Didn't look like that was in the cards, though. She was more than skittish and everything just felt awkward. “No roommates, huh?”

“No. I've always had a room of my own. The skin thing - scares people off.”

A dead silence fell between them and Marie realized that maybe he didn't know what she was talking about. “My mutation - it - ”

“Yeah, darlin', I know. Jeannie filled me in.”

She listened to him explain about Pete's smelly dog, about having figured out who she was; about having a talk with Jean. That last bit made her uneasy. An intimate encounter away from the school was one thing; it was private. But this - did everyone know she'd taken a tumble with a man she'd just met? And the Wolverine, of all people?

Logan could see what she was thinking. “Nobody knows a thing, darlin'. Well, Jeannie sort of figured it out. But you know she ain't one to talk. You want to keep this between us for now, that's okay.”

“For - for now?”

Logan stepped over to her and tried not to be pissed that she backed up until she couldn't go any farther, cornered by the bathroom door. Actually, he tried not to be hurt. “I'm not a monster, Marie.”

She stared up at him, and not quite knowing why, her eyes welled with tears. She was so tired from the drive and utterly confused and yes, a little bit afraid of him - which after thinking about it for a moment she knew was ridiculous. He'd been nothing but good to her, in every way imaginable. And underneath all the chaotic thoughts, she was so damned glad to see him she could barely stand it. She didn't have any idea how to act.

Her breath caught as he leaned closer, his hand on the wall over her shoulder effectively caging her in place.

“Tell me what you're thinkin'.”

Marie blushed and stammered and fought the tears to a standstill. “I - I… I don't know.” She needed some space, she needed to think. Him standing so close was robbing her of ability to do that. “I - I need to take a shower. I have to wash my hair.”

She shut her eyes and wanted to drop through the floor. It was probably the stupidest comeback in all of history.

To her surprise, he laughed. Sensing how flustered she was, he didn't want to push it. Her eyes flew open as his mouth grazed her ear and his warm whisper made her want to fall into him. How she managed not to, she'd never know.

“Okay, baby. Go on and get cleaned up. We can talk later.”

He stepped back to give her room to grab her bags and she paused, a hand on the bathroom door. “Wait for me?”

That lopsided grin of his was like a punch to her stomach. God, he was a gorgeous man.

“You didn't seriously think I was goin' anywhere, did you?”

She watched as he stretched out on her bed, making himself right at home. Legendary bad-ass or not, he looked good lying there, and Marie thought she was the luckiest woman alive.

A brilliant smile lit up her face. “I'll hurry, sugar. Don't fall asleep.”

Sugar? Oh, man. He could get used to this in a big hurry. “Not alone I won't. Now get.”

Marie planned to take the fastest shower of her life.

Logan listened as water came on in the bathroom, and he could hear Marie getting undressed and moving under the spray. He briefly considered the idea of coming in after her--knowing she was naked in the next room was a hell of an inducement--but he didn't want to scare her, so he restrained the impulse. He kept listening, though. With her track record, she might slip and fall in the tub. Naturally, he'd want to be prepared to come to the rescue.

Marie scrubbed her hair furiously, then reached for the conditioner. The bottle slipped from her wet hands and skittered along the bottom of the tub. “Shit!” She crouched and scrabbled for it, but now it was both wet and coated with slick hair product, and it took her three tries to retrieve it.

“Everything all right in there?” She jumped at the voice coming from her room, and the bottle escaped again.

“Fine! I'll be right out.” She picked up her washcloth and used it to improve her grip, finally corralling the recalcitrant bottle. There was almost no conditioner left in it by now, but she dumped what there was on her hair and worked it in hastily. She quickly soaped up and then rinsed off both body and hair. She turned off the water and stepped out of the tub.

That's when she realized that, before her ill-planned road trip, she'd cleared all her towels out of the bathroom and into the hamper in a burst of laundry-related energy that had petered out before actually getting to the laundry room. All that was left in the bathroom was a single hand towel. And she certainly hadn't brought any fresh clothes into the bathroom with her. She stood, dripping, considering her options.

One: She could dry herself off as best she could with the hand towel and then put her old clothes back on. Pros: she wouldn't be naked. Cons: she'd have just negated the whole point of the shower. Also, Logan would laugh his ass off at her.

Two: She could ask him to get her a towel. Pros: she'd be dry and have something to wrap around herself while she got a change of clothing. Cons: terminal embarrassment. Also, Logan would laugh his ass off at her.

Three: She could walk out there wet and naked. Pros…

She closed her eyes. Oh, god. Was it bad that she couldn't really think of any cons to that scenario?

No. She wasn't going to be that obvious. “Logan?” she called, hoping her voice didn't squeak.

“What's up, baby?” She caught her breath; he was right by the door. “You stuck in the drain or somethin'?”

She forced herself into offended dignity. “They came for the laundry. Can you hand me a towel from the closet?”

There was a pause, and then she thought she heard a chuckle. “No problem, darlin'.” She listened, hearing him open the closet, and then there was a tap on the door. She opened it a crack, expecting him to hand the towel in to her. Instead, he put a hand on the door firmly, opening it further. Her eyes went wide and she grabbed for the towel, but he pulled it out of her reach.

“Hey. Dangerous implement here.” He unfolded the towel, his eyes never leaving hers. “You could suffocate or somethin'.” He came toward her, and instinctively she crossed her arms over her breasts. Gently he brought the towel to her face, patting it dry. “There we go.” He moved the towel to her shoulders.

“Logan…” God, that felt good.

“Quiet. You don't want to catch a cold or anythin'. All wet like that.” She let her arms drop away as he moved the towel lower. “Uh-oh.”

“What?” Don't stop, for God's sake.

“Think you missed a spot.” And he leaned forward, wrapping the towel around her midsection, and ran his tongue along her neck. Marie thought her bones might melt. “Yeah, here too.” His mouth moved down her collarbone-there was still a bone there, that had to be good-and then his hand ran the towel down between her legs, just as his mouth fastened over one nipple.

“Oh, God.” Her hands caught at his shoulders, to hold herself up as much as anything else. “Logan!” She didn't seem to be able to think of many new words to try.

“What's wrong, baby?” His face was nestled between her breasts, so his voice was muffled, and his hands--

“You're--still dressed.” That was about as coherent a sentence as she was going to be able to muster up at the moment. He laughed softly and raised his head.

“Good point. You wanna do something about that?”

Fingers moving now would be good. She somehow managed to undo the buttons of his shirt and he shrugged it off, let it fall to the floor. Then the t-shirt he wore under it, and that incredible chest was revealed again. She ran her hands over him.

“C'mere.” She shrieked a little as he scooped her up in his arms, towel and all, and carried her out into the other room. He deposited her on the bed and paused only to kick off his boots and shove down his jeans before joining her there. Marie ran her hands over his torso, marveling at the play of muscles under his skin as he moved.

Logan stared down at her as she explored his body with unschooled but enthusiastic hands. She was even more gorgeous than he remembered. Or maybe he just hadn't gotten a good enough look, out there in the dark at night. And she was just as incredibly responsive to his touch as she'd been the first time. She let her head fall back and gasped as he skated his hands over her slick, wet body. He made himself slow down a little, stilling his hands and nuzzling at her neck. Her eyes opened.

“Logan?” One hand came up to touch his face, almost wonderingly. “You're not stopping, are you?”

He smiled against her soft skin. “Not a chance, darlin'.”

*******************************************

Later, much later, Marie lay in his arms, feeling as satisfied as she could ever remember being. He'd been so gentle with her, again, giving the lie to every rumor she'd ever heard about the frightening and terrible Wolverine. She ran her fingers up and down the arm that was locked around her waist. “Logan?”

“Hmm?” He sounded half-asleep.

“Why do they call you Wolverine?” She could feel his body tense slightly behind her, and he didn't answer for a long moment. “Because of the claws?”

“No. Not exactly.” He answered reluctantly, and she remembered how he'd hesitated even to tell her his name. “It was sorta…given to me.” She waited, but he didn't say anything else.

“Oh.” Obviously he didn't want her to continue in that direction. “They call me Rogue. Sometimes.” Since she wasn't on the team, no one really used the code name, but everyone did pick one. Again, he didn't say anything. After a minute, she tried a new tack. “What did Jean say, exactly?”

Now he seemed more inclined to answer. “I told you, she told me about your mutation. And what you'd been going through trying to control it. She's a smart lady.”

“I know.” Jean Grey was everything Marie had ever wanted to be: intelligent, assured, poised, graceful. Especially the 'graceful' part. “I mean, what did she say about--us?”

“Didn't really talk about that. She's bright, she figured it out. Didn't discuss it in so many words.”

“Oh.” Marie was curiously disappointed in that response. She wanted to know what he'd said about her, even more than she wanted to know what Jean had thought.

“Hey.” He sat up a little, leaning over her. “Listen. I ain't tryin' to push you into anything. You just broke up with that guy, I know it might be a little strange. Like I said, this don't have to be public knowledge.” Logan thought that might be what was bothering her, that everyone would think she'd fallen into his arms on the rebound. And he knew perfectly well what his reputation was. It was completely understandable that she wouldn't want to be seen as some random conquest. He didn't want that either. It was different, because this wasn't a one-night stand on the road, this was where she lived, and he didn't want to pressure her. Between the control issue and the gay boyfriend, it was no wonder she felt unsure of herself.

Marie sighed a little and settled back against him, and he hoped he'd said the right thing. She seemed satisfied with what he'd come up with; anyway, she didn't ask any more questions. He just hoped he hadn't pushed her for too much too soon. He hadn't necessarily meant for this night to become a sexual encounter, but once again it had been impossible to resist. And it wasn't as though she'd been anything but an enthusiastic participant. Just like the first time.

It had been her first time, not just their first time. The idea still stunned him. That meant he had a chance to be not only the first but the last with her. The thought gave him a strange thrill. He lay back down and held her close as she drifted off into sleep.

Marie wanted to stay awake, wanted to mull over what he'd said and just luxuriate in his presence. She still couldn't quite believe he was there. But her fatigue was rapidly getting the better of her, and she felt safe in his arms. For once, she was determined not to worry about things and just enjoy the moment.

Eventually Logan fell asleep as well. There was always tomorrow to work out what they would do, what they both wanted, and in the meantime, this was exactly where he wanted to be.

Early in the morning, he woke abruptly to a familiar but decidedly unwelcome mental call.

Logan. We need you immediately, at the Blackbird.

He sat up, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Christ.” He looked down at Marie, who was just blinking into dazed wakefulness.

“What is it?” She was trying hard to shake off her sleepiness, but between their lovemaking and her long road trip, she'd been absolutely exhausted. He leaned over and pressed his lips against her forehead.

“I gotta go, darlin'. Chuck's puttin' out an alert. Don't get up, baby. It's too early. I'll be back soon.”

Concern and drowsiness were warring for her concentration. “What is it? Something bad?” But her eyelids were drooping again already.

“Don't know, but I'll tell you when I get back, I promise. Go on, go back to sleep.” She put her head back down and he got up, dressed as quietly and quickly as he could, and left the room.

Marie barely heard the door close, but even as she sank back into slumber, she missed the warmth of his body beside her, the solidity of his arm around her. Her brow knit a little, and her dreams were less contented after he left.

She finally awoke for good at around nine o'clock. She sat up, pushing her tousled hair out of her eyes, and it took her a second to realize that the previous night's events hadn't been a dream. She smiled, then remembered the early-morning call from Xavier.

Who the hell calls the Professor “Chuck”? The Wolverine, obviously. Marie got up and finally dug some fresh clothes out of her dresser. As she dressed, she wondered what the mission had been about, how long he'd be gone. I'll be back soon, he'd said. She hugged that knowledge to herself.

When she reached the dining room, Kitty and Jubilee were there, ensconced at a table by the window. Jubes saw her first and excitedly waved her over. She felt strangely self-conscious as she crossed the room, as if everyone would look at her and somehow see the difference. She slid into a chair beside her friends and Jubilee threw her arms around her neck.

“Welcome back, chica. How was Tara?”

Marie laughed. Jubes and her obsession with movies! “Never got there. Stupid truck was about to give up on me, and I just decided I didn't want to keep going.”

Jubilee leaned forward across the table, the familiar fire of good gossip in her eyes. “Well, you picked a hell of a weekend to disappear. You will never guess who just showed up, outta the blue.”

Oh, yes I can. Marie managed what she hoped was a nonchalant smile. “Let me get some coffee and you can tell me all about it.” She got up and crossed the room to the large urns standing on the side table; she passed Bobby, sitting alone at another table, as she went. Their eyes met for just a second and then Bobby hastily got up and basically scuttled out of the room. Marie almost called him back, but decided it could wait. She'd make up with him eventually, but when she thought about what she'd written in that note--God, when would she learn to stop acting so impulsively? Her face felt a little hot as she got her coffee and grabbed an apple from a bowl of fruit before returning to her seat.

Jubilee was practically hopping out of her seat when she got back. “Did you say anything to him? He's been skulking around here ever since--”

“Whoa. Focus, Jubes. One subject for gossip at a time.” Kitty looked amused. She leaned forward and spoke conspiratorially. “Okay. You ready?'' Marie nodded and tried to prepare an appropriate look of surprise.

“The Wolverine!” Jubes was literally bouncing in her chair now. “Oh. My. God. You won't believe this guy.”

“Oh yeah?” Marie was impressed with herself when she was able to take a sip of her coffee without choking. “Why's that?”

Kitty clasped her hands at her chest. “He is gorgeous. But so fierce-we saw him, right after he arrived. He was out back with Pete's dog, and we were so scared, we thought he was going to tear poor Fang's throat out.”

“He wouldn't do that,” Marie protested, and then when the two of them looked surprised, she had to improvise weakly, “I mean, why would he bother with some dumb dog?” She had no idea why she wasn't just telling them. These were her two best friends in the whole world. It was one thing, not wanting to admit to a one-night stand over the phone, but now that she knew who Logan was-now that he knew who she was--

“I was coming out of the dining room--this very room--and I ran straight into him.” Jubes rolled her eyes. “Ay, dios mio. The man has muscles that don't exist on other people.”

Kitty nodded agreement. “And every girl in the school is swooning over him. I saw Jean and Scott having the hugest fight in the hallway. Well--huge for them, anyway.” The team leader and the school physician were the Mansion's resident lovebirds, as everyone knew. But Kitty's words gave Marie's stomach a lurch. Why would Scott and Jean be fighting--Logan had only said they'd talked.

Jubes waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe Jeannie's up for reliving old times? I heard they used to be pretty hot'n'heavy back before she hooked up with Scott. She musta been outta her mind. Who'd settle for ol' Square-Pants when she could have--”

“Stop it!” Marie couldn't prevent the outburst, and both her friends looked at her in surprise. She tried to collect herself hastily. “That isn't funny, Jubes. They're married. It isn't some dumb high-school romance.”

Kitty and Jubilee exchanged glances, and then Kitty cleared her throat and sat up straight. “You're right. That isn't nice, Jubie. It didn't sound like that, anyway. I don't think Mr. Summers likes him very much, that's all.”

Jubes refused to take the hint, though. “Well, if it's not Jean, I'd love to be a fly on the wall in his room. I bet he has to keep an appointment book and it's scheduled a year in advance.”

Marie smiled weakly and finished her coffee as the other two girls continued to chatter about the rumors flying around the Mansion regarding its newest resident. Only a week ago, she'd have been enthusiastically participating, but neither of them seemed to notice her reserve. At last, Kitty turned to her with an apologetic smile.

“Oh, but wait. We're being really awful. You must want to talk about--you know.”

Marie was just relieved at the change of subject. “Oh, Bobby? No.” She rolled her eyes. “God, I feel like such an idiot. With all the gossip you two dish out, how did you manage not to let me know about that?”

“We just…thought you knew.” Kitty put a hand over hers. “Really.”

“Everyone knew,” Jubilee added, unnecessarily. “Didn't think it needed to be said.”

Kitty shot her a dirty look. “Jubes. We're really sorry, and if you want us to go beat him up, he's a dead man. John's away for the week, so he won't have backup.”

Marie laughed, and it felt good to be able to let that particular anguish go. “No. No, I think he's suffered enough. I'd better talk to him, I guess. If he'll stay in the same room long enough,” she added, and the other two laughed as well.

“You might have to corner him, “ Kitty said thoughtfully. “He ran pretty fast, and you were just getting breakfast.”

“Probably afraid I'd dump my coffee over his head,” Marie answered, and then she fell silent again as she remembered another coffee spill, another time. Jubilee resumed her chatter with Kitty, oblivious to Marie's reverie.

Everything her friends were saying--it was just a variation of what she'd heard herself, over the years. It hadn't ever mattered to her personally before, that was all. No one ever gossiped about the untouchable girl--why would they? There had never been anything to gossip about.

She looked at Jubilee's animated face and bright eyes, and tried to imagine what her reaction would be if she knew where the man she'd just finished describing as “sex in blue jeans” had spent the previous night. A shiver went down her spine as she remembered the muscles Kitty was raving about moving under her hands--

“Hey.” Bobby was standing in front of the table suddenly, his face serious. “Sorry. I don't mean to bother you guys, but--we're all in the rec room. You should see what's on the news.”

Marie sat at her desk, fidgeting with the pen in her hand. Her journal was open on the desk in front of her, but she hadn't written a word.

The reports on the news had been just awful. They'd watched for over a hour, until she just couldn't take it any more and she'd escaped up here to try and collect her thoughts.

She still didn't know exactly what had happened. The newscasters had just gone over the same few details over and over, showing images of buildings in flames and a few blurry shots of figures half-obscured by smoke. There had been gunfire, and an explosion, and no one really knew what had happened with the team-the Professor was closeted in his office and no one was telling the students anything. Marie was seriously worried, and there was no one to confide in except the stupid book in front of her. She couldn't talk to Kit and Jubes, not now, not after having listened to all their silly gossip, because she hadn't told them earlier and now it seemed way too strange to suddenly claim a relationship that she wasn't even sure she was really in.

“Logan,” she said out loud, and her voice sounded strange to her. She'd been so shocked at seeing him again, and then so overwhelmed by his presence, to spare a moment to think about what would happen afterwards.

That seemed to be the theme in her life, she thought ruefully. Act first, think later. She put the pen down, abandoning any pretense that she was going to be able to write. What the hell was going on here? She'd told herself over and over that everything Kitty and Jubes had said was just hearsay, nothing but rumors and scuttlebutt. She'd be an idiot to listen to that. He hadn't seemed anything like what they'd all heard. He wasn't violent, or mean, or out of control. She'd never felt a moment's menace from him, not even when she'd been alone with him, a perfect stranger, out in the middle of nowhere.

The animal magnetism thing was true enough, though. Marie rubbed a hand over her face wearily. What would a man like him want with her? She couldn't understand it. She remembered the way he'd talked to her after their first encounter, calling her beautiful, saying everything she'd ever imagined hearing from a lover.

Maybe it was easy for him to talk that way to someone he'd assumed he'd never see again. He certainly hadn't said much the night before, except to tell her no one needed to know about them. She pressed her hands against her suddenly burning cheeks. She didn't even want to go where that line of thought was taking her. He'd seemed so pleased to see her; she'd swear he hadn't been faking that. And he'd wanted her. Just the memory of the look in his eyes when he'd laid her down on her bed was enough to increase her pulse by a healthy amount.

But for how long? She got up and moved to her window. She loved the view her little room had of the grounds and the woods behind the Mansion; it was one of the reasons she'd picked this little out-of-the-way single in the first place. Well, that and the fact that having roommates was tiring when your skin was capable of killing them by mistake. It was easier to at least have one place where she could dispense with gloves and scarves, or clothing entirely if she felt like it.

Every thought seemed to be leading her back down exactly the same path, and she was sick of wondering and worrying about him. She just wanted the team to get back, so she'd know he was all right. She told herself that she was just being silly. Everything would be fine as soon as he got back.

She heard a familiar rumble as the Blackbird roared over the horizon and the hidden hangar doors began to open, out on the grounds, and suddenly her uncertainty was gone. She ran for the elevator without a moment's hesitation.

Marie punched in her code to the floor that housed the hangar and more of the special features that no ordinary school would ever have. She shuffled her feet nervously as the elevator descended, and hurried down the long, gleaming hallway that led to the Blackbird's landing bay. She skidded to a halt when angry voices reached her ears.

“I want you to stay away from me and the fuck away from Jean.” That was Scott Summers, and hearing the normally-controlled team leader swear was enough of a shock to freeze her in place.

“Summers, if you don't get your head outta your ass it's gonna grow roots there.” And that was Logan. Even though Marie couldn't see him, the low, threatening tone Logan was using was the first intimation she'd had yet of where all the rumors came from. “There ain't nothin' between me and Jeannie and you know it. We're just playin' around.”

“That's the whole problem, isn't it? Your whole goddamn identity revolves around being this badass Romeo. You've never been serious about any of this, not the team, not Jean, not anyone.”

“You better watch it, bub.” There was a crash and Marie gasped, but it was apparently something inanimate that had hit the hangar floor. “You're gonna say something you can't take back in a minute.”

“What makes you think I'd want to take it back? I am sick of this, Logan. You show up here after five years and you think you run the team? Fuck you. You just put people in danger because you're too independent to take an order. People I care about, even if you don't. Just because you had to show off in front of-”

“I'm not gonna take this crap. I told you already, my commlink wasn't working. No one got hurt.” Something else was thrown against a wall or the floor with a clatter. “You don't want my help, fine. Next time you can haul your team's ass outta the fire by yourself. I'm gone.” And he stormed out, fortunately in a different direction, because Marie couldn't have moved at that moment to save her life.

There was more banging; Scott was apparently taking his frustration out on the equipment now that Logan was no longer there. Marie backed up until she was against the wall, because her knees suddenly felt weak.

“Scott?” Jean's voice echoed a little from the other end of the hangar, from the entrance closest to the medical facility. “What just happened?”

“Nothing.” A lid was slammed down. “How are the kids?”

“They'll be fine. What about you?”

“Jean-”

“It was just a kiss, Scott. Don't do this.”

Marie turned and fled back up the hallway. There was no way she was going to listen to any more of this.

**********************************************

Jean came a little further into the hangar. “Scott. Will you look at me?”

Her husband turned around and crossed his arms. “What?” But now he sounded more sullen than angry, and she knew the worst was over. She crossed the huge room to him.

“You have got to stop letting him get to you like that. You know perfectly well he does it just to drive you crazy.”

“Yeah? And what about leading you straight into a building that blew up ten minutes later, after I expressly told him not to?”

“It was my fault as much as Logan's. He had a broken comm unit, Scott. I heard you and I didn't realize he hadn't, and then I saw the kids-you know Logan would never deliberately ignore an order.”

The team leader sighed. “I guess.” He reached out and pulled Jean into his arms. “I was just scared for you.”

“I know. But we're all right. He's exactly the man you want to have on the team if you do need to improvise-and that's what he did. We wouldn't have gotten to those kids if he hadn't gone into the building that way.”

“I know.” Scott's arms tightened around his wife. “All right, I know. I'm sorry. I'll talk to him.” He gave a short, half-reluctant laugh. “I'm pretty sure I know where to find him.”

“Scott…” Jean looked up at him. “Don't get in their way, all right?”

Scott stroked her smoke-streaked cheek gently. “You really think he's serious about her?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I'm sure of it.” She put her head down on Scott's shoulder and they just held each other quietly for a long moment.

***********************************************

Marie slammed and locked the door of her room and then leaned back against it, She felt sick. Obviously Jubilee's gossip connection had been more accurate than usual.

She started towards her bed, planning to hide her head under the pillows and cry herself out. Then she stopped. They had slept together here, just last night. He'd left her there not twelve hours ago, so it hadn't taken him even a day to go after Dr. Grey again. Angrily she pulled the sheets and blankets off the bed and hauled them to the closet, stuffing them into the hamper. It wasn't nearly big enough for the huge wad of material and as she tried to force the armload in, the wicker sides suddenly gave way, splintering and stabbing into her finger. “Ow! Shit!.” She dropped the bedclothes and brought her bleeding digit to her mouth. Tears stung her eyes.

It was her life in a nutshell. Jean didn't try to attract attention, she never seemed to have to try to do anything, she just went about her life and people did whatever it took to be around her. And she certainly didn't leave a trail of destruction in her wake wherever she went. She didn't even want Logan, she had Scott. It wasn't fair.

She felt her face grow heated with shame as she thought about the way she'd absolutely thrown herself at the school's most legendary womanizer, not once but twice. The first time, all right, she hadn't known who he was. But last night-

He must have thought it was his lucky week, running into the easy lay twice in a row. She kicked at the mound of linen, wincing as her foot hit the broken edge of the hamper. Then she froze as there was a knock at her door, and a second later the doorknob rattled.

“Marie?”

It was him. And he sounded really pissed. She shrank back into the closet, wanting only to hide until he just went away, but she tripped over the scattered sheets and fell with an ungainly thump right onto her backside. “Goddamnit,” she swore under her breath.

“Marie, you all right?” Now he sounded concerned, and no wonder. She'd done nothing but trip over her own feet ever since she'd met him. She was suddenly furious, with him, with herself, with everything.

“I'm fine. Go away.”

Logan stood in the hallway, thunderstruck. What the fuck? Had the entire Mansion suddenly gone nuts, or what? “Marie, what the hell is going on? Open up.” He rattled the doorknob again.

“No. I don't want to see you. Just go away.” She sounded like she was crying, and he had absolutely no idea what she was upset about. After the ugliness he'd just seen and the fight with Summers, he'd just wanted to get back to her, hold onto her for a while and
forget about all that. Now apparently he'd walked into some other hornet's nest.

He didn't understand, and he was tempted to pop the claws through the ridiculous lock on the door and put an end to this bullshit right here and now, but he stopped himself with an effort. He was exhausted and too irritable to be able to deal with this rationally right now; he'd just scare the shit out of her and that wouldn't help.

“Fine.” He heard her moving inside the room and waited for a few seconds to see if she was going to come to the door. She didn't. “I'm going. But I will talk to you later.” He gave it one more minute before stalking away down the hallway towards his own room.

Marie, huddled against the wall just outside of the closet, put her head down on her knees and let the tears she'd been holding back begin to trickle down her cheeks.

Oh, God. What now? She couldn't run away again; it hadn't worked the last time and if she left again it would just look ridiculous. He'd lose interest in her fast enough, of course, but she just hoped he made good on his words to Scott and left. Soon.

If she had to see him around the Mansion for long, she didn't think she'd be able to handle it.

**********************************************

Logan caught a glimpse of Marie sidling through the library doors. He had had about enough of this. It had been three days; short of camping outside her door he'd done everything he could to catch her alone and he hadn't succeeded yet. He still had exactly no idea what she was so angry about, but there was no question that she was deliberately avoiding him. She didn't appear in the dining room at meals, she wasn't in her room during the day, and any time he did catch sight of her she was surrounded by her little friends and studiously ignoring his presence.

He started down the hallway towards Jeannie's office. She was good at giving advice, she certainly knew Marie better than he did, and he had no better ideas. Unfortunately, just as he was getting to the door it opened and Summers came out. Logan jerked his head in acknowledgement-Summers had come across with an apology of sorts the day after the mission, if you could count “I know it wasn't all your fault” as an apology, so he supposed preserving the decencies was in order. Obviously, though, now wasn't going to be a good time to see Jean, so he put his head down and pretended he'd been on his way somewhere else.

He was about ten steps down the hallway when Summers spoke. “She was in the hangar when we got back.” Logan turned. Summers had his arms crossed defensively.

“Say again?”

“Marie. She used her code on the elevator the day of the mission.” The younger man spoke in a reluctant tone, and it was one of those times Logan really hated the ruby-quartz lenses that didn't allow him to read his expression properly. “She must have heard us fighting.” Summers took a step towards him. “I just thought you might want to know.”

“Oh, yeah?” Logan raised an eyebrow. Considering Summers' reaction to the very idea that he'd even touched Marie, this was, to say the least, surprising. “How come?”

“Look, Logan, I really am sorry. I got personal with some of those things I said and that was wrong. I do get that you're serious about her. I just didn't want to see her get hurt, that's all.” He twisted his mouth into a wry smile. “Guess I'm not doing such a bang-up job of watching out for her either.” He held out a hand. “Truce?”

Logan came back down the hallway and took Summers' hand. “Permanent détente.” They shook hands and then Logan strode off, back towards the library. He was going to talk to Marie right now, come hell or high water.

****************************************

Marie knew Logan was coming even before the library door moved; she'd been on constant alert for his tread in the hallway for the last three days and she'd have heard it even if it hadn't been so quiet in the room. The door opened and she stared fixedly at the page in front of her, although she'd had the book open to the same page for the last twenty minutes and still had no idea what was on it. Please, please just get out of here.

He didn't. He came straight across the room to her, put a hand on either side of her armchair, and leaned over her. “Come on. We need to talk.”

“I'm reading.” She turned a page deliberately, keeping her eyes down. Then the book was jerked out of her hands.

“I don't really give a fuck if you're reading. I've been lookin' for you for three days and you know it. I'll give you a choice: you can come talk to me somewhere private or I'll talk to you right here. Right now.”

Her eyes came up against her better judgment and certainly against her own will. The second she saw those hazel eyes burning into hers she knew he meant it; he was perfectly capable of yelling at her in front of everyone who happened to be present. Reluctantly, she nodded. Once. “Fine. Where do you want to go?”

“Come on.” He stood up and held out a hand, but she ignored it and scooted out of her chair sideways to avoid touching him. She followed him out of the library and into one of the common rooms, one that was furnished as a reception area and that was usually deserted except for special functions. He closed the door behind them and then turned to face her, standing in front of the door as if he knew she'd bolt through it if he only gave her the chance. Marie wished fervently that she had Kitty's mutation, just for ten minutes. It was a good thing Kit hadn't happened to be in the library, or she might have borrowed it.

“You want to tell me what the problem is?” His tone was unexpectedly gentle, and it threw her even further off balance.

“I don't have a problem.” He looked at her for a long minute, seemingly waiting for her to say something else, and then shook his head.

“I know you must've heard something the other day. When you were down on the hangar level.” Her heart skipped a beat. How the hell did he know that? “Tell me what it was.”

He honestly didn't have much recollection of exactly what it was he and Summers had been shouting at each other, but he did remember Jean's name had come up. So it wasn't much of a surprise when she lifted her chin defiantly and retorted, “I heard enough to know who you're really interested in, and it isn't me.”

“You're wrong.” He saw her eyes widen at the straight denial. “You heard somethin' about Jeannie, right? That's bullshit.” He took a step towards her. “Believe me, darlin'. Jeannie and me, we're just friends.”

“Don't call me that,” she gritted out, and he saw that she was close to tears.

“Why not?” he asked, and she didn't answer. “I've known Jean for a long time, Marie. It's just a dumb habit, flirtin' with her.”

“Yeah, right. That's why Mr. Summers wanted to throw you off the team,” she shot back. Logan passed a hand over his face. Jesus.

“He was pissed at me because of something that happened on the mission,” he explained tiredly. “He's over it. You can ask him.” She clearly wasn't believing a word he was saying. “Look, if I wanted Jeannie, why would I have left five years ago? They've only been married two years, Marie. Do the math. I'm not like that.”

“I don't know. Maybe you just can't stand bein' turned down.” He raised an eyebrow. Well, he'd known she had a lot of fight in her. “Maybe you just came back to see if she changed her mind. All I know is, it's obvious no one comparing the two of us would pick me. And I don't care about bein' second choice. I mean, you didn't even want anybody to know you knew me.” She glared at him.

“You're out of your mind.” He shook his head in sheer disbelief. “ What's the matter with you? Haven't you ever looked at yourself?” He strode across the room and seized her wrist and, before she could pull away, turned her around to face a mirror that hung on one wall. She turned her head and he reached up to pull her hair loose from the ponytail she had it scraped into. “Come on. Look.”

Marie looked up, but he got the feeling she was watching his reflection, not hers. She tried to pull back, but he held her in place. Then she burst into tears, and he knew he'd gone too far.

Relenting, he let her go. “I'm sorry. But Christ, Marie-” He shoved a hand through his hair, hoping she'd get herself under control. “You've got it all wrong.”

“I don't think so.” She sniffled and wiped the back of one hand furiously over her cheeks. “Is that all? Can I go now?”

Logan stepped away from the door and she made a beeline for it. “Marie!” She stopped, but didn't turn back. “Just think about it, all right? Take your time, but if you want to talk to me…” He threw up a hand in frustration. “I'll be around.”

She waited only a second to be sure he was finished before opening the door and practically running away from him. He stood there, staring after her.

Well. That went just great.

Marie's one thought was to get back to her room without seeing anybody. Naturally, with her luck, that was practically a guarantee that she'd run into the last person she wanted to see, and Jean appeared on cue at the top of the stairs.

Marie put her head down and hoped she wouldn't notice anything. But she felt Jean's hand catch at her arm and she had to stop.

“Marie.” She really, really didn't want to hear that big-sisterly tone right now. “I won't keep you. I just wanted you to know that Logan's a good guy, all right? No matter what you've heard.” Marie gave her a suspicious glance, wondering if Jean was using her telepathy to sneak into her head, and the older woman looked a little embarrassed. “Scott seemed to think you'd heard them fighting.”

Marie shrugged, not trusting herself to speak. Jean gazed at her for a moment sympathetically, and then dropped her hand from Marie's arm. “He was really happy when he realized you'd be coming back here, you know.”

Happy? The word didn't seem to fit Logan, and her disbelief must have been evident, because Jean added, “He was, Marie. He's not an easy man to get to know, and he doesn't talk about himself much, but--I could tell.” She gave the younger woman a quick smile. “I just thought you should know that.” Marie gave her a brief nod and then finally made her escape to the safety of her own room.

Jean walked slowly down the steps and back towards her office. She found her husband still loitering around in the hallway. She stopped and arched one perfect eyebrow. “Well?”

Scott gave his wife a shamefaced grin. “We're cool. I did my part. You?”

“I think Logan had just been trying to talk to her, so I couldn't say much. But yeah, I tried.” She came over to him and linked an arm through his. “Good work, One-Eye.”

“Don't ever call me that again.” Scott pulled her closer and gave her a quick kiss. “Or I'll have to do something drastic.”

“Like what?”

“I'll…” Scott's limited inventiveness in such matters was disrupted further when his wife pulled his head down to kiss him more thoroughly. “I'll think of something. Eventually.”

***********************************************

Logan wandered out of the Mansion, heading out to the woods. The outdoors was more his milieu, more where he felt comfortable. He certainly didn't want to be around other people right now, and at this time of the day there wouldn't likely be anyone else out on the grounds. He needed to think.

********************************************

Marie was standing at her window watching the sun begin to set when she caught the motion of someone heading into the wooded area behind the tennis courts. She recognized the figure instantly, of course; she'd know him anywhere, even from the back and across the grounds. She wondered briefly where he was going, then turned away from the window. It didn't matter. She didn't want to see him again, not yet. Certainly not until she had some idea of what she wanted to say to him.

Someone knocked at the door, and then Jubilee pushed it open without waiting for permission. She came in without a word and threw herself onto Marie's bed. She was clearly upset about something and Marie came to sit beside her; she knew how Jubes was when she got into these moods. After a little time spent glaring at the ceiling, her friend finally spoke.

“So they got back from the mission with those three kids.” That explained the mood. Jubilee had lost her parents at a young age and she'd spent quite some time as a runaway; she was incredibly protective of the younger kids. “They're all still in the infirmary.”

“Yeah?” Marie could tell there was more. Jubilee worked in the infirmary, had volunteered there for years. Marie had always secretly suspected that she'd end up training to be a doctor herself, no matter how much Jubes denied the very possibility. All her ditzy behavior aside, Jubes was good at taking care of people.

“There might have been more of them. One of the kids said something about an older brother. He's still missing.” Jubes slammed a hand down on the mattress and a small red explosion went off somewhere near the ceiling. “It just pisses me off. You know, they're just kids. And someone was trying to kill them, just 'cause they're a little different.”

“I know. It sucks.” A wave of guilt went over her. She was so wrapped up in all her own petty problems, and people around her were in real pain. It suddenly occurred to her that she could imagine Logan being just as upset about the kids he'd helped rescue. She knew how good he was at taking care of people, too. She should know.

“I just don't get it. You know, with all the unhappy people in the world, why does anyone have to go around creating more of it?” Every word was just making it worse. “No one gives these kids a chance. They just assume the worst. And you know the really awful part? The kids get to believe it too.”

“They're lucky they have people like you.” Marie ran a hand down Jubilee's shiny black hair. “You're the best.”

Jubes sat up and hugged her. “Back atcha, chica.” She sighed and stretched her arms. “I'm gonna grab some food and then go take a hot bath. Thanks for letting me blow off steam.” Marie rose, feeling even more guilty in her relief that Jubilee was leaving. She found a jacket as soon as her friend was gone and slipped out the back door of the Mansion, heading in the direction she'd seen Logan going.

****************************************

Logan sat at the foot of the huge oak tree, staring moodily at the water of the pond in the late afternoon sunlight. It was going to rain later; there was a bit of a chill in the air. Ducks paddled around, splashing occasionally as one dove for some underwater delicacy.

You didn't even want anybody to know you knew me. Well, there was a staggering misinterpretation for you. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't go back in time and play it out differently. He didn't even know when this had gotten so important to him. All he knew was that from the second he'd seen her, everything in his life had been as thoroughly upset as--well, as everything else that came into her vicinity. His mouth twisted in a wry smile in spite of his mood. Maybe he could convince her she needed him around just to keep her from accidentally knocking down the Mansion or something. He had to figure out something that would make her give him another chance. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, or innocent, or so completely honest in every reaction, however mistaken.

It was all of that, plus God, she just made him laugh.

Maybe it would be better if he cut out for a while. He didn't know what else to do. She was so young, so obviously fragile, and she probably needed some time to recover from her experience with the non-boyfriend before she was going to believe he was really interested in her. Maybe she just needed some space, and if that was it, he ought to get out of the way. This was her home, after all; he'd just gotten back, and it would be easy enough to split again for a few weeks.

He sighed and leaned his head back against the tree's trunk. When exactly had life gotten so fucking complicated?

He heard footsteps, someone coming towards him, and he was about to move to avoid whoever it was invading his space. Then a scent reached him, and an instant later he knew it was her. He waited for her to find him, wondering if she was there on purpose or if maybe this was just somewhere she also came when she wanted to be by herself.

“Hey.” Marie was standing on the path, one toe turned under awkwardly like a shy child, and her words echoed his thoughts. “You want to be alone?”

“Not if you want to join me.” She came down the embankment and squatted down beside him.

“I'm sorry,” she said abruptly. “I've been acting like a real bitch.”

He grinned a little at that. “I'd've said a real brat, actually.” He sobered when she looked down. “Hey. I'm kidding.” He held out a hand. “C'mere.” She shook her head. “Okay. You want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?” She shook her head again.

“Not right this second. Is that okay?”

“Sure.” After a minute or so she raised her eyes back to him.

“I guess it was a pretty bad mission, huh?” He nodded his agreement. “Will you tell me about it?”

She looked so nervous, but hopeful at the same time. Logan reached for her again. “Yeah. But come here.” This time she let him draw her closer; he settled her in front of him, where he could wrap his arms around her and pull her back against his body. “How's that?”

She leaned her head back against his shoulder and sighed with contentment. “Perfect.”

“I wasn't tryin' to hide anything, darlin'.” It was easier, with her facing away from him. “I just didn't want to rush you into anything. This ain't exactly like bein' on the road and just havin' a good time. You understand what I mean?”

Marie blinked back sudden tears. “I--I think so.”

“Okay.” He tightened his arms around her a little. “So yeah, it was a really shitty mission. Ugly stuff, lotta violence. Stuff kept goin' wrong. Kids involved, that always makes it harder.”

“They're okay, though, right?”

“Think so. They're alive, anyway.”

“Good.” They fell silent, just watching the glittering surface of the water. Logan felt the rise and fall of her chest beneath his encircling arms and thought back to the day they'd met, the night she'd burned herself and he'd held her for the first time--innocently, like this, but it had just felt like the right thing to do.

It felt even more like that now.

Eventually she spoke. “You must think I'm completely insane.”

“Nah. Just a little confused.” Logan made sure she smiled, acknowledging that he was teasing again, before he went on. “Hell, you don't really know anythin' about me. And I know this's all happening real fast. After that thing with your…friend…”

She gave a snort of laughter. “Yeah. Poor old Bobby.” She turned to look up at him and wrinkled her nose ruefully. “I was really clueless there.”

He laughed. “Musta been strange for the kid.” Bobby was probably his best friend in the world right now, if only the little shit knew it. “Don't think he meant to mess with you, though.”

“I know.” She went back to watching the water and the ducks for a few minutes. “I don't want to keep anything a secret,” she said suddenly. “If that's okay.”

“Fine with me.” He didn't give a damn who knew about them, and that went for Summers on down. In fact, he couldn't wait to rub Scooter's nose in it. Uptight bastard. Still, he'd been pretty brutal to the poor guy. In his current mood, he might even consider offering an apology of his own.

“You going to stick around?” He was a little startled by the question; it seemed like she'd been reading his earlier thoughts, until he belatedly remembered that fight she'd overheard. He still didn't remember exactly what he and Summers had said to each other, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd told the team leader to take his missions and shove them.

“I told you before, I'm not goin' anywhere. 'Less you feel like another road trip.” She laughed at that. “All right, then. Look, just--I ain't lyin' to you, Marie. I don't know what this is gonna be, but don't make your mind up about me because of what someone else told you.”

“Okay.” She turned her head a little and he felt her lashes flutter against his neck. “Me too. Long as you don't make up your mind about me because of what I've said to you.” He chuckled.

“So we both stick around and don't listen to anything you say, that how it works?” She wrinkled her nose at him again and let out a relieved little sigh. He didn't have the foggiest idea how it had happened, but things seemed to be falling back into place. He didn't really give a flying fuck how, either: karma, telepathic manipulation, stars coming into alignment...just so it worked.

Marie shivered a little, chilly even with his arms wrapped around her, and Logan realized the sun was slipping away quickly and clouds were moving in. “You want to go in?”

“Okay.” She let him help her to her feet, and he kept an arm around her waist as they went back towards the Mansion. As they went up the stairs of the entrance beside the rec room, Marie suddenly stopped him. “Logan--”

“What?” Was she changing her mind? His eyes narrowed.

She took another step up and turned to face him. “It's Jubilee.”

“What's a jubilee?” He was truly confused now.

“She's not a what, she's a who. And she's watching from the window. Don't look!” Logan's eyes had already flickered to the window and back. The little Asian girl he'd almost knocked over a couple of days ago was, indeed, standing at the window and was openly staring at them. “Did she see you look?”

“No idea.” Maybe she was having second thoughts. “Friend of yours?”

But Marie's mouth was curving in a wicked smile. “Yeah. And the biggest gossip in the school.”

He was starting to catch on. “Okay. So…”

Marie reached up, took his face in her hands and kissed him, hard. She was standing on the step above him, so she was more or less at his level, and he caught her around the waist to pull her body tightly against his, but other than that he let her do whatever she wanted to do. Out of the corner of one eye he caught a glimpse of the girl in the window; her mouth was wide open and she wasn't even being subtle about spying on them. In fact, she was plastered against the glass.

He raised his head and gave his girl a conspiratorial smile. “She's doin' a pretty good impression of a bug on a windshield in there.”

Marie looked a little dazed, he noted with a touch of complacency. “What?”

He laughed and swung her up onto the moss-encrusted wall that lined the steps. “Never mind.” He kissed her again, slow and easy and sensual this time, savoring the way she responded. He raised his hands to her face and made her look up at him. “You're beautiful,” he told her, and her eyes lit up. “Think that's enough of a show for your adoring public? 'Cause for the second act, I'd just as soon not have an audience.” He nodded towards the window.

Marie turned and saw that Jubilee had been joined by what looked like half of the Mansion. Her eyes widened almost comically and she turned to hide her face against Logan's chest. “Oh, my God,” she moaned into his shirt, and he laughed as he saw the various kids break into silent-from-there cheers behind the window. “Oh, my God. I can't go in there now.”

Logan patted one jacket pocket and grinned. He'd never given Summers back the keys to the bike, and if he knew old One-Eye, it had already been topped up again after his jaunt to town the other night. “No problem.” He pulled out the keys and dangled them in front of her. “Want to go for a ride?”

She broke into a huge smile. “Oh yeah.” He grabbed her hand and she jumped off the wall, stumbling a little as she landed. He caught her around the waist to keep her from falling.

“You all right?” Some things, it seemed, weren't going to change.

“Yeah.” Marie kicked at the chunk of detached vegetation her foot had caught on. “I'm probably the only person in the world who can manage to trip over moss.”

“Well, you know, darlin'…” Logan got a firmer grip on her waist and tugged her towards the garage. “Least it makes a soft place to land.”

End