CHAPTER ONE: RING! RING! RING!

It was three in the morning when Marie picked up the phone.

Half asleep she tried to force it against her ear, pig-tailed hair in the way and gloved fingers awkward. The only light a luminous clock which informed her that yes, it was indeed as God awfully early as she’d thought. She glared down at the phone groggily, eyes adjusting to the darkness while she tried to make out what was being said to her. A female voice which sounded suspiciously like Jubes was yelling tinnily at her, demanding attention, the words nearly impossible to make out over the music in the background-

Which meant that Jubes was probably calling her hammered.

Goody! she thought caustically as she finally put the phone to her ear.

“Chica,” Jubie was yelling, “Chica, I know you’re there, I can hear you breathing so talk to me!” Marie swore her friend practiced that tone on others, the one which made you feel like you had to hurry no matter what you did. It even worked on Logan, some of the time. And that there was a Goddamn miracle, she knew. “I’ve got news, boo,” the other woman continued, oblivious to the fact that Rogue had yet to answer her. “Major news-”

“Enough already,” Marie practically growled. “Ah’m listening, now what gives?” And she shot the phone her sternest look, as if Jubilee could see it through the wires. Not the most logical of things to do but hey, it was early and she was still half asleep.

“Y’know, you get more like Wolvie every day, chica,” her friend muttered. Marie could practically see her rolling her eyes at the other end. “And what works for the Wolvster don’t necessarily work for a Southern Belle-”

“It’s three in the morning,” Rogue interrupted before she could launch into what she recognised as a favourite tirade. “Clearly, since you’re usually only evil to people you aren’t BFFs with, you had a reason for calling me. Now what’s up?” And she paused, waiting to find out whatever mischief her friend had gotten into. Because the last time Jubes had called her this late it had involved three players from the Dallas Cowboys and a stolen donkey, and that wasn’t even the weirdest story she knew about.

By a long-shot.

But Jubilee was busy giving a dramatic pause, the kind Marie recognised from countless high school dishing sessions. Clearly, what she was about to be told was of great import. She paused a beat to let the tension mount while Rogue considered hanging up on her and then-

“Kitty and Pete are running off to get married!” she burst out. “And she wants us both to be bridesmaids! How cool is that?”

Marie actually squealed, status as an X-Man be damned.

“Yes!” She practically crowed it, suddenly oblivious to the fact that recovering-from-a-mission superheroes were sleeping all around her. After all, she suspected that once Jubes was through telling her she’d wake everyone else. “So Petey finally manned up and asked her?” she demanded, grinning ear to ear in the darkness. “Knew he would do. Well, thought he would do. But tell me every detail, when, where, was anyone naked-”

Jubes’ delighted giggle thrilled down the line. “He gave her the ring his pop have his mom and everything,” she explained. “Had his Aunt and Uncle bring it out from storage special, made her dinner, bought her roses and then Badda-Bing, badda-boom. Asked her, just like that. Kit’s so pleased I think she’s gonna burst.” Marie had to smile: Kitty Pryde had started dating Pete Parker when she was fifteen, during her first summer at Xavier’s. Everyone in the Mansion had grown to love the nerdy, genial, spider-obsessed Peter, even Logan- Though of course that hadn’t stopped him threatening to make with the gutting, if Parker stepped outta line. Not that he ever had. Ask most of her year who perfect boyfriend was and they’d have said Pete and then dared you to name someone else. But you wouldn’t have been able to. Because Petey clearly adored Kitty and she adored him. He even took her mutation in his stride. They were like a younger, way less annoying version of Scott and Jeannie though without the world-altering superpowers- Or the infuriating ability to make Logan weak at the knees.

Not that Wolvie’s crush bothered Rogue these days, at all.

Not that she even noticed every time he stumbled home at four in the morning with a slender, willowy redhead who made the small, curvy Marie feel ever so slightly like an elephant though she wasn’t the one thundering through Logan’s room. It just wasn’t fair: She was the fittest person on her team! She could outrun Bobby, for Chrissakes! And yet he had to go chasing after the stick-insects, just cuz they reminded him o’ Jeannie-

Marie belatedly remembered there was someone on the other end of the line and brought herself and her rant up short. Because Jubie was still talking a mile a minute, barely stopping to breath. One of her lesser known superpowers, according to Bobby. “So will you tell him?” the other woman was asking.

Oops. She’d missed something in the middle of her little tirade. “Tell who what?”

Again she imagined she could see Jubes’ eye roll over the phone. “You should work on your listening skills, chica,” she muttered. “It’s just an idea.” And Marie had the good grace to look shame-faced at having been caught out. “I asked whether you’d tell Logan.”

Marie frowned. “Doesn’t Kitty want to tell him herself?”

“Well, yeah,”- it came out sounding more like DUH, “but the last time she called him at this hour she just got out that she wasn’t in imminent danger and he hung up the phone. Or maybe threw it at a wall and broke it, I’m not really sure…” Rogue could well believe it; He’d been like a bear with a sore head ever since he returned from his last trip to Japan. Though being Logan he’d grunted and made steady eye-contact with his beer when she’d asked why. It was something to do with that Yukio woman, she was sure of it. Stupid perfect Japanese cat-burglar who had Logan wrapped around her pinkie finger, just like Jeannie used to do- And just like Jeannie she was wrong for him, even Marie could see that. Not that it mattered any: He was nuts about her. Had even stopped picking up the ginger stick-insects when he met her. For maybe the thousandth time Rogue reminded herself forcefully that Wolverine’s love-life was none of her concern and that she should be grateful, because really who wanted someone difficult and growly and a million years older than her anyway? Not her, that was for certain. No matter what all her ex-boyfriends said-

“Okay, okay,” she said when Jubilee paused for breath, “I’ll tell him. But where are they getting hitched? Because I assume he’s gonna wanna be there for his pum’kin’s big day.” And they both laughed. Jubes might be his partner in crime and Marie might be his little sister, but Kitty was his pum’kin and always would be. “I need a location here, Jubie,” she continued, “Because that’s sure as Hell the first thing he’s gonna ask me-”

“Already way ahead of ya,” Lee grinned. “Got the name of the justice of the peace and everything. She’s called- get this- Guadalupe O’Reilly. Has on office on Decator Street, New Orleans-”

And at that moment someone turned the light in her room on.

That someone was Logan. And he looked- surprise, surprise- pissed.

“So the Kitten’s getting hitched,” he growled in his best surly voice. Marie was suddenly grateful he couldn’t see her toes curl underneath her covers at the sound. “Knew that Parker geek was up to something.” And he gestured towards the phone, indicating Marie hand it over. Listened as Jubes filled him in on the news. Marie tried not the notice the heat his body generated as he leaned across her, tried not to notice the fine curl of dark hair she could see at the neck of his tee. Also tried not to notice how tempting touching, nuzzling or licking the back of said neck was right now. She didn’t notice that stuff about him anymore, no indeed she did not; They were friends. Team-mates. Comrades. And she was so busy not noticing the play of muscle and skin on those massive forearms of his that she missed when he hung up the phone and turned to her. Missed his first words too.

“What?” she stammered, looking at him in confusion.

He shot her a look that suggested he was worried about her mental health. “I said,” he explained testily, “That they should look in on an old buddy of mine. Guy I knew in the early days. Ask him to take care of ’em.”

“And this guy is..?” she prompted, sleep and hormones conspiring against her. “Trouble,” Logan muttered. Already looking like he was planning what to pack. “He owns a club in the French Quarter, name o’ Belladonna’s-”

Marie rolled her eyes impatiently. “But what’s his name, Logan?”

Wolverine’s eyes glittered in the darkness. “It’s Remy,” he informed her. “Remy LeBeau. Jubes’ll be waiting at his fer us.” And then he was gone as silently as he came. Leaving the place where he’d leaned over practically burning in his wake. Leaving her hot and bothered and completely unable to get back to sleep-

Not that Marie noticed that any.

Because she was too busy wondering, What kinda dumb-assed name is Remy LeBeau?

CHAPTER TWO: ARE YOU LONESOME TONIGHT?

How did she do that?

Logan padded silently back to his room, hands clenched at his sides, the lack of sleep making him even grouchier than usual. Trying desperately to remind himself that Rogue was still a kid, The Kid in point of fact, and that no, he didn’t have permission to slam her against the bedroom wall and fuck her til she screamed his name with pleasure. Her twenty-third birthday having passed him by or no. But it did no good: The scent of her clung ever so slightly to his shirt, where he’d leaned against her to take the phone, making his skin itch with the desire to touch her. To find out how good her control was, now she’d learned how to turn on and off her skin. The mix of shampoo and lotion and plain old Marie was still wafting about him, prettier’n just about any other smell he could imagine- And he’d imagined. He’d imagined plenty, these last few months since he got back from Japan. Girl coulda turned up covered in pig slurry and something told him she’d still have him hot and bothered in the space of a heart-beat-

Just like she had back there.

And once again we’re back to how does she manage to do that? He thought irritably. Because Jesus, that girl can even make Snoopy pjs look hot…

“I really am a dirty old man,” he muttered to the surrounding darkness then, trying to force himself (and by himself he meant his dick) into calmness. And knowing he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell o’ succeeding, what with his brain continually replaying that cute, sexy, slightly lost expression she’d worn as he hung up the phone. A sleepy Marie really was a pretty Marie; And a pretty Marie really was a sexy Marie. He could just sneak back to her room and check to see if she was still wearing those pyjamas- Maybe ask her whether she wanted him to show her the kinda stuff he wore in bed- Which was basically jack shit- Nada-

Okay, we are not going stalker on her, bub, he told himself firmly.

Besides, deprive her of that not-needed beauty sleep and she’ll kill us.

Reluctantly, he conceded that his inner monologue mighta had a point.

So he pressed on. Trying to walk off the hard-on. Around him he could hear the sounds of the Mansion, the kids snoring lightly, the adults tossing and turning, unable to unwind after the mission just gone though not a one of ’em would ever admit it. To his right he could hear Jimmy, the boy who never slept, changing the channels. By the sound of things he was using his abilities to tune into the Playboy Channel, despite the lock Hank’d put on R-Rated TV. Logan didn’t know what the geeks were so worried about: The kid was seventeen years old, what did they expect him to wanna watch? Beast was still working, walking along the walls from the sound of it. Storm and Kurt were- Okay, he did not wanna listen to that- Although it was kinda nice to know the elf wasn’t in the doghouse anymore; he’d been worried she’d never forgive him fer forgetting their anniversary or some shit… A kid was listening to an I-Pod three floors away, one of the newbs was skyping to her mom in French. Everywhere the usual sounds of the Mansion washed over him, soothing in their familiarity: At some point in the last six years this place had become home fer him, despite the many annoyances and restrictions it placed on his time. And his drinking. He missed its noises, its predictability when he was on the road-

Which brought him back to Marie.

It always seemed to come back to Marie.

Logan sighed then. He really was gonna haveta do something about that situation. Because there was only so much time a man can spend lying to himself before the truth comes and bites him on the ass. And the truth had done so three months previously: His (now ex)girlfriend, Yukio, had summoned him to Japan only to break it off with him. Her reason: You’re clearly in love with Marie, anata, she’d told him. For such a smart man, you are being remarkably dense. And then she’d bid him farewell. Told him to take a hike as calmly as if she were reporting the weather in Tokyo that day. Logan knew deep down that she was just trying to spare face in front of a man who’d hurt her, but it had still been a sucker-punch. And when he’d come home it’d felt as if everyone knew what she’d said. He felt like he was walking around with pervert who crushes on young women tattooed across his forehead, and he didn’t like it none. Especially when he was forced to concede that darling Yukiko kinda, sorta had a point. Even Jubes had take to grinning at him like she knew something he didn’t, and normally she was on his side. But what was he supposed to do? Just turn around and announce to Rogue that he wanted her? Bring her out, get her drunk and see how far he got? He couldn’t do that to her, he was his girl. His Marie. She thought of him like a father-figure, everyone knew it. And every guy she’d dated had been the opposite of him: Stick-up-his-butt Bobby, sensitive, likes-puppies-and-pot-pourrie Pyotr. That hayseed Guthrie, with the annoying kid sister and the perfect hair. Not a badass among ’em. Not one of ’em suffering from even a touch o’ the beast. Clearly, if Marie had a type it was the opposite of the Wolverine-

And that did present a problem, if you’d just realised you might kinda, sorta, be nuts about the girl.

Because dammit, why did he haveta fall fer the one woman in the Mansion who resolutely wasn’t interested in him? And could probably deck him if he tried to get it on?

Logan sighed then. Stopped in the darkness. He shouldn’t be thinking about this; He should be thinking about Kitty’s big day. The Parker kid had asked his advice about the ring before they left fer New Orleans, so it hadn’t exactly been a shock to hear he’d popped the question. He was more surprised that he’d allowed Jubilee along fer the ride. It wasn’t like Pete’d asked his permission or some shit like that: He’d just asked fer Logan’s promise not to kill him so long as he made Kitty happy. And Logan had been happy to give it. Well, more or less. Truth be told Logan had admired the kid fer having the balls to square up to him. Skinny he might be but Parker had a back-bone, everyone knew that. He wouldn’t have trusted him with the pum’kin’s happiness if he didn’t. And besides, you needed to be tough to survive Kitty: She was to nice little Jewish girls what he was to clean-cut superheroes, saving the world be damned. Despite himself his mouth lifted in a slight smile: At least someone in the Mansion was getting on with their love-life, even if it wasn’t him. He shook his head, remembering the first time he’d met Kitty six years ago, and wondering how he’d ended up being such a part of her life that her husband-to-be asked his permission to marry her-

But then, like everything else to do with the Xavier Mansion and its younger female occupants, things never went the way you expected them to. Fer him or anyone else.

He stopped walking then.

Squeezed the bridge of his nose and wondered whether he should started packing. Jubes would expect him and Marie at least to haul their ass down to Dixie fer the ceremony, and he fer one sure as Hell wasn’t gonna fly. He considered popping back to Marie’s room and asking her what she felt like doing, but decided against it. He might start thinking that checking out those Snoopy pjs was a good idea again, and no good could come of doing that. He listened carefully, but she wasn’t pacing. The bed was creaking with her movements, which told him she was probably going back to sleep. It was good, he decided: They could get together in the morning and decide what they wanted to do. He was too awake now to go back to sleep anyway: He’d take his bike out fer a ride, try to clear his head. Maybe head into town fer a brew. He padded through the Mansion, stopping by his room only to pick up shoes and his leather jacket, Marie’s bed still creaking as she tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, and then headed out into the night-

Which wasn’t exactly his smartest move.

Because if he’d held on a little longer he might have heard just how “uninterested,” Rogue was in him.

How much she liked the idea of a beast in her man, given the right incentive and enough time.

But he was halfway to Westchester by the time she finally stopped calling out fer him-

And they left fer New Orleans the next day, neither of them having gotten much sleep. Though both of them were, strangely enough, cranky and tense the entire ride.

Like he’d said, How did she do that?

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

CHAPTER THREE: DONCHA WISH YOUR BOYFRIEND WAS HOT LIKE ME?

Remy loved it when Logan visited.

Because sure, the homme drank him outta house and home, and yes, every time he dropped by LeBeau spent the next six months trying to keep the various Guilds from teaming up and going Medieval on his growly, ancient ass. And yes, come to think of it, trouble seemed to follow the Wolverine around like the stink o’ beer on a barfly-

But to counter all that, there was the fact that where Logan went, the honeys always followed. And followed and followed and then followed.

And then followed and followed some more.

White-haired weather witches, scarlet-clad ninjas, even the awesome beauty that was the She-Hulk- Every one of them knew his boy there. And every one of them had tried their best to get poor Logan on his back and halfway to Happy Land by the time he’d ordered a Molson: Sometimes they didn’t even offer to buy him a drink first. Remy never had no trouble getting himself some action- He was Remy LeBeau, for heaven’s sake- But there was Action and there was Wolverine Action. Which was like the difference between a high school basketball team and the Goddamn NFL. Action was a threesome with two gorgeous Tulane College students looking to have a good time at Mardi Gras-

Whereas Wolverine Action involved an orgy with a demon princess, her goat sacrifice and her sexually adventurous body-guards, Buddy and Jasper.

Remy grinned at the thought.

All of which brought him to the girl beside Logan. The tiny, curvy, platinum-streaked goddess who’d stalked through the doors of his club like she owned it and was proceeding towards the bar in a similar fashion. Muttering to the Wolverine to put the red-neck scalpels away and talk to her like she was a lady, since he was sure as Hell acting the part of one. Logan retorting that he’d never even seen her fucking I-Pod so how could he remind her to take it on a road trip? And was that an excuse for stealing his last cigar? The girl’s perfect lips were set in a pout at his words, her little arms crossing over her chest like that was the only thing keeping her from thumping His Hairiness and the fact that she’d even contemplate that showed Remy that this one was gonna be one to watch- In fact, he could watch her all day. Watch her bright brown eyes and creamy, porcelain skin. Watch that sweet mouth and gorgeous rack and- Man, was it hot in here? She sashayed through the bar, all sass and grace in her movements, Logan growling behind her- Gambit had never seen him looking so…whipped, and the sight tickled him no end- while a tiny, pretty Asian girl trailed in their wake. Blowing a massive bubble-gum bubble and snickering to herself as if she were watching her parents bickering. Which considering how young the belle femme looked was a pretty creepy thought. Logan and the brunette didn’t even seem to register Remy was there, both too interested in their game of Did Too!/Did not! To really notice him while the Asian girl shrugged her shoulders and gave him a “What Can Ya Do?” look-

Remy cleared his throat then.

Holding out his hand in greeting, making sure he gave the two girls an obvious glad eye just to test the waters regarding who was with who. Because if he was lucky they might be a couple, and oh what fun that would be! Logan and the Platinum Goddess stopped arguing, finally noticing him: The brunette’s gaze dismissive, the little Asian’s frankly appraising- And hot. Gambit shot the Asian chick a wink, reaching out and kissing her knuckles lightly- “Enchantee,” he murmured, “Jubilee, babe,” she murmured back- before he turned his attention to his old friend and the other mighty fine woman he had on his arm.

The woman who was now glaring at him as if he were pond scum.

Attractive pond scum, but pond scum nonetheless.

He swore he could hear Wolverine grinding his teeth at the sight.

“Logan, homme,” he began then, face mock innocent, “How you doing? And why is it Ah always see you with such beautiful women, hein?” When Logan didn’t respond (he was too busy clenching manfully) Remy shot the brunette a dashing smile, reaching out and brushing a kiss along her knuckles though she stiffened at his touch. A blush on her cheek, quickly pulling her hand away like she’d been burned. Logan gave him a surly look and Gambit’s grin widened- Hey, the man who had goat sex with a demon princess does not get to look that disapproving, dammit- before stepping bluntly in front of the petite. The gesture territorial, everything about it screaming Mine and Don’t You Fucking Forget It, Bub as only Logan knew how. Behind him the Asian chick rolled her eyes again- “Don’t take it personal, sweetie,” she called, “they’re like this with everyone,”- before hopping up on the bar like she owned the place and reaching into storage to pull out a lemon slice. Offering one to Remy, her expression still appraising and coy. Gambit shook his head- his sense of self preservation was tenuous at the best of times and his friend was clearly smitten enough with the Platinum Goddess to make stirring the shit with him amusing-

So he turned his gaze back onto the brunette.

Held out his hand again and offered it to her with mock shyness, staring at her flirtatiously through his bangs. Logan growled as she took it of her own accord this time and his grin widened some more. His thumb tracing a pattern against her fingers. “Mr. Remy LeBeau at your service,” he murmured. “And you are..?”

“Armed.” She seemed flustered and it sounded like it had just popped out. The Asian chick snorted with laughter at the aggressive response and even Logan grinned. Remy however took it in stride.

“Is that a common name where you from?” he asked courteously instead. “Because Ah gotta say, it don’t suit you, chere-”

Her temper flared again and his grin widened. No wonder Logan liked her: They were so damn alike. “Ah don’t know,” she muttered, pulling her hand away, “Ain’t Dumb Ass a real unusual name? And yet here ya are.” She crossed her arms. “And don’t call me chere,” she added irritably.

“Ah never said mah name was Dumb Ass, chere,” he grinned. Her eyes narrowed vengefully. “And Ah doubt a woman as beautiful as you is really called Armed.” She blinked, expression softening as the blush returned and Remy shot Logan a See How Good Ah Am? grin. The feral looked thunderously unimpressed with this development.

Oh yeah, Remy thought, Ah fucking rock.

“Mah name’s Rogue,” she told him softly then, the ghost of a smile now playing on her lips. She looked almost shy, unused to compliments. But if she ran with Logan, that didn‘t surprise him: After all, it’s hard to see a pretty girl with your head that far up your adamantium ass. “You’re Remy, right?” she murmured. “Remy LeBeau?”

“Guilty as charged.” He shot the feral a cynical look. “You been telling stories about me, Logan?”

“Only the worst kind.”

“Good.” Remy darted behind his bar, pulled out a bottle of bourbon. “Woman knows what to expect.” And he waggled his eyebrows at Rogue, pretending not to notice that his friend’s claws were now shivering underneath his skin. Reminding himself that it was unlikely Logan would actually impale him- Though unlikely ain’t the same as impossible, he knew. “Now what can Ah do for y’all today?” he continued smoothly. Pouring four shots and setting them before his guests. “You lookin’ for a game, homme?”

Wolverine shook his head. “Nah, we’re looking for a place to stay. Friend’s down here getting married, we promised we’d come but we don‘t wanna intrude on the happy couple, ya know?” He said that last part to his feet, well aware Gambit would usually tease him about doing something so girly, but LeBeau decided to leave it. He wanted to come outta this in one piece then he’d do best centring his efforts on one humiliation at a time. “We thought Jubes would be here to brief you,” Logan continued dryly, “But it seems she got distracted-”

Jubilee grinned wickedly. “Identical twins,” she informed him. “Both studying for the priesthood. How could I resist showing ’em what they were giving up for God?”

“Aw, that would be a sin, chere,” Remy told her. “But staying here, it be no problem. There’s plenty o’ room. Got a lovely, sweet bedroom next door t’me, Rogue.” And he grinned flirtatiously at her once again, enjoying the way his expression made Logan’s eyes do a funny little dance of fury- Pretending to ignore the snikt that echoed through the bar like a thunder-clap even as Logan went into Growly over-drive. He shot a look at Jubilee and the girl grinned, clearly enjoying the spectacle-

Oh yeah, he thought, this was gonna be a Helluva lot of fun.

But then he took another look at Rogue and decided he’d take his chances, come what may.

Logan bared his teeth at the sight.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

CHAPTER FOUR: DON’T YOU WANT ME, BABY?

Fuck.

Fist and claws made contact with the wall.

The other fist made contact, knocking one of the pictures of the Sacred Heart askew and sending plaster flying.

The picture of the Virgin Mary went too, along with a watercolour of an old jazz concert from 1932. And a statue of someone Logan suspected was Saint Anthony.

Jubes snickered, waggling her eyebrows at him.

Logan took a deep breath. Stopped beating up the nasty wall.

Because as a general rule he didn’t beat up things that couldn’t fight back against him-

Logan sighed then, stepping away from his… opponent. Trying to look nonchalant, like there was nothing at all weird about him pummelling the shit outta an inanimate object as soon as he met an old friend. Said old friend having shot him a knowing grin and then wandered off to talk business with some guys even Logan thought looked rough. Marie opened her mouth to ask him what the Hell he was doing, but he merely shrugged, began fussing with a shot glass behind the bar. Going to pour himself a shot of whiskey, then of gin, then of bourbon. The amused look Jubes was shooting him doing nothing to help his sense of Zen. Because he was pissed, dammit: That bastard LeBeau had taken one look at Marie and he could practically see the lurid, Dear Penthouse fantasies playing in his head. It was so wrong: Marie wasn’t the kinda girl you treated like a, a- what was that phrase Kitty was always using? Oh yeah- like a sex object. She just wasn’t. She was beautiful and wonderful and absolutely not the kinda person you screwed on a pool table-

At least, not unless you were him.

Cos if you were him, well then it was okay. Since he loved her and he’d take care o’ her and if it was him then it meant that she wasn’t having hot monkey sex on the nearest flat surface with the biggest man-whore in New Orleans-

Which was, needless to say, an eventuality which must be prevented at all costs.

So Logan growled, took a shot of whiskey. Remembered that oft-seen look the Cajun had shot Marie: It was the same look he’d seen him shoot a hundred nameless girls over the years, and not a one of ’em had ever heard from him after he’d gotten what he wanted. Not that that had ever bothered Logan before now. But with Marie it was different; she was different. She was His Girl, and His Girl didn’t get hurt if he could help it. That’s what the claws were fer. Besides Gambit didn’t do the long haul: He was strictly in the good time- Okay, judging by the amount of repeat traffic he saw make that the great time- business, a fact that insured that one way or another Marie would get her heart torn to Hades-

And that being the case, it was obviously his duty as her friend and protector to tell her just what a bike Remy LeBeau actually was. To point out the danger, as it were. And also to show her (while he was at it) that he too could do sensitive and caring-

In, ya know, a badass sort of a way.

So Logan cleared his throat. Poured out a shot of bourbon- It was Marie’s favourite- and pushed it over the bar towards her. Poured one out fer himself too and gestured fer her to join him on a stool. By this time Jubes was biting the inside of her cheek from trying to control her giggles, everything about her expression and her scent telling Logan she knew exactly where his head was at.

Needless to say it made him tetchy as Hell.

“I’ll just see if there’s somewhere to put my stuff,” the firecracker told him then, backing away from the bar.

“But you can join us,” Marie pointed out.

“Uh-huh,” Jubes snorted, “I could, but I won’t do…”

And with that she scooted away, her laughter trailing behind her. The knowing look she’d shot Logan not helping him concentrate at all. The feral watched her go, all his famous bravado apparently going with her: Fer the first time in years he felt tongue-tied, not sure how to approach this. Of course, he told himself that Jubilee being there woulda been all kinds of awkward. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that having her as a referee would have been a real good idea. Not that he’d have admitted it in a million years-

A beat.

“Nice place he has here,” Marie began then, staring at her shot glass. She was holding the amber liquid an inch away from her mouth, letting it cool those luscious lips. Logan had never been so jealous of a beverage in his life.

“Yeah,” he muttered gruffly, “He did well after the Big Storm. Got lucky- one of the only places barely even hit.” Logan had plenty o’ theories about why that was but he kept ’em to himself; Last thing he needed was to make Marie more curious about Gambit than she already was.

“You don’t think he was offended Ah snapped at him, do ya?” she asked, blushing. “With the whole “armed,” thing?”

He rolled his eyes. “I think Remy’d forgive a pretty girl anything,” he grumbled.

She lit up like a Goddamn Christmas tree. “So you reckon he thinks Ah’m pretty?”

“Fuck no!”

Suddenly the temperature in the room dropped about fifty degrees, the atmosphere turning practically Canadian despite the smothering Southern heat. “So let me get this straight,” she drawled, eyes narrowed. “You’re saying Ah’m not pretty?”

Kill me now. “No, Marie,” Logan muttered edgily, “That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean?”

Logan could feel something that smelt a lot like panic clawing at him. “I meant that you’re just not his type-”

“And what’s his type?”

His expression turned sour. “Not you.”

Something real angry passed across her lovely face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he snarled, “That you’re a nice girl Marie, and not some two-dollar skank who’d put her ankles behind her ears fer a few words o’ bullshit French on a dance-floor-”

Fury exploded through her scent. “So just cos Ah’m not the sorta woman you like Remy won’t like me either?” she demanded.

What the Hell? “No,” Logan retorted, “I’m just saying that you can do better than that asshole and we both know it-”

“And what if Ah don’t wanna do better?”

“What’s that supposed t’mean?”

Now her face was in his. “It means,” she hissed, “That just because you think Ah should live like a nun doesn’t mean Ah want to. It means that just cos you don’t think Ah’m a grownup don’t mean Ah’m a little girl.” She stood up, eyes flashing, jabbing a finger inta his chest with each word she uttered. Heat radiating through his skin with every point of contact, the urge to shut her up using only his mouth and tongue and tonsils suddenly over-powering in that hot, sticky room. “Ah’m a grown woman, Logan,” she was saying, “And if Ah’m old enough to be an X-Man and Ah’m old enough to live on mah own then Ah’m old enough to sleep with whoever Ah Goddamn please- Not that you’ve ever given much thought to what Ah might want in a man.” And she shook her head, the image of all those clean-cut boys, all those smooth-looking, smooth-talking assholes just like Remy standing between them. The thought of it making Logan wanna skewer so bad he could practically taste it. Practically smell it in the air. Fer a beat she glared angrily inta his eyes, heat flashing between ’em- And then just as suddenly she looked away. Gaze on her shoes, fight gone outta her. Something in him twisted at the sight.

“Ah only want a little comfort now and then,” she was saying more quietly now, “Is that so much to ask? Or do you really find it so impossible to believe someone would want me-?” The chocolate brown eyes gazed imploringly at him.

“Of course someone wants you, Marie-” I want you, I love you-

“Then why am Ah alone shuggah?” She save a bitter laugh. “Why am Ah still alone in mah bed?”

And with that she pulled away.

Slipped outta Logan’ reach, scent suddenly melancholy. No, scratch melancholy: Make that embarrassed as Hell. All that spitfire anger disappearing as if it had never been there. Stammering and blushing taking their place. Without another word she ran from the room, spine stiff and straight as queen Victoria’s. The sight of it making Logan frown-

While in the hall outside a returning Jubes watched Roguey’s departure. Peeked in to find Logan muttering angrily to himself and glaring so hard at the bar she was surprised it hadn’t burst into flames. The firecracker shook her head and pulled out her cell-phone, flicking it open and hitting speed-dial: Clearly this was an emergency.

“Chica,” she announced when it picked up, “We have a problem.”

And rolling her eyes she explained to Kitty and Pete what Logan had done- this time.

“We’ll be there in five,” Pryde said.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

CHAPTER FIVE: TAINTED LOVE

That arrogant sonofabitch!

Marie dug her hands into her pockets and pulled her leather jacket tighter across her chest. Muttering venomously about what she’d like to do to a certain growly Canadian if she had her hands around his throat and access to some adamantium. Ah mean, she groused, Who the Hell does he think he is? Where the Hell does he get off telling me who Remy will or won’t want? Beside her a car honked loudly, finally cluing her into the fact that she was crossing Conti Street and heading ever further from the small area of the French Quarter she was actually familiar with: Rogue wasn’t sure whether she was heading towards the waterfront or Treme but she suspected that neither direction would be good for her-

After all, she didn’t want to have to call His Hairiness if she got lost.

In fact, she was reasonably sure she never wanted to talk to His Hairiness again.

For any reason.

“You okay, chere?” a familiar voice intruded then.

She looked up at the words and immediately an ageing Camero spun by her, very nearly clipping her. She just had time to yelp before two arms- two muscled, tattooed, after-shave scented arms, she noted- grabbed her and deposited her back on the sidewalk. A pair of warm brown eyes- Remy’s- peering into hers as she tried to catch her breath. Marie blushed: she wasn’t clumsy as a general rule, she was really just that pissed at Logan. And now she’d made an idiot of herself in front of this gorgeous man for the second time in a day. The Cajun was looking worriedly at her, both hands still gripping the tops of her arms where he’d lifted her onto the sidewalk: This close she could see the length of his eyelashes, the light scrub of stubble across his jaw- And his lips. Oh Lord, she could see those. Some part of her, some usually-suppressed, you-have-a-terrifying-mutation-which-kills-people part of her that normally held her hormones in check was dying to find out just what those lips would feel like against her own- Against her mouth, her throat, her collarbone-Her Hello Kitty panties-

“Are you sure you’re okay, chere?” he repeated dryly then. Which, given that she was staring at him like she’d received a concussion- or he was a slice of devil’s food cake on display on the last day of Lent- wasn’t all that weird.

Immediately Marie snapped out of her would-be trip to Happy Land.

“Ah’m fine,” she growled.

“You certainly are.” And a smile quirked that perfect mouth, one eyebrow cocked. For a moment the expression reminding her so much of Logan that she had to fight back the urge to thump him. Remy must’ve recognised her reaction because his smile grew wider, laughter lighting his features; It was strange, but he looked like the type of man who laughed easily and often, a far cry from the Wolverine and his death-and-me-are-Molson-buddies stoicism. Embarrassed now, Marie went to pull away but without a word of warning LeBeau stopped her, pushing one of her stripes behind her ear. Stepping closer to her than most people dared to her, his breath ghosting across her lips-

Which she licked. Slowly.

Way to play it cool, Rogue, she mused.

“You know, Armed,” Remy was drawling now, “Most women say thank you when they get a compliment-”

Marie narrowed her eyes: She didn’t appreciate being reminded of her slip back at the bar. “Most men don’t give compliments expecting something in return,” she retorted. “Besides, what kinda lady would Ah be if Ah let you lead me inta the path o’ temptation?”

“The kinda lady Ah’m surely not used to courting.”

“You wanna court me?” Somehow, it seemed more of a Logan kind of a word.

“Darlin’,” Remy was drawling, “Ah wanna do far more than court you. But such a lady-like vision would hardly be interested in sinning her way t’Paradise with a scoundrel like me…Or would you?” And he waggled his eyebrows as he kissed her knuckles.

Despite herself Rogue giggled.

It had been so long since she’d done something so girly she decided to do it again.

Apparently it was all the encouragement Remy needed, because he began leading her through traffic then. Picking her up and spinning her onto the path beside him when another driver decided to try and run her over in order to get to work. Smiling at her like he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life, not a grimace or growl in sight. A girl could get used to this. “You see, Armed,” he was grinning, “That little laugh wasn’t so hard, was it? And now Ah know you can do it, Ah think Ah’m gonna have t’make ya do it again… Just as soon as we get your poor Yankified self some proper coffee.” And he twined his arm more tightly in hers, leading her nonchalantly through the crowds as if they did this every day. One hand resting on the top of her knuckles, its weight warm against her gloves. It felt- It felt carefree. Which was one thing Rogue hadn’t felt in years. In fact, not since she’d met Logan-

Despite herself, she pushed that thought quickly away.

Remy noticed however. “You okay, chere?”

Marie shrugged: She really didn’t feel like discussing Logan with him when things were going so well. After all, bringing the Wolverine into any conversation with a man she wanted to date was a bad idea, as every one of her exes could attest. “Nah,” she said, “Ah’m just tired-”

“So you no worrying about the hairy Canadian back at the bar?” And he all but batted his eyelashes, his expression so disarmingly innocent Marie couldn’t be sure she wasn’t being played.

“Why would Ah be worrying about him?” she bit out.

Now it was LeBeau’s turn to shrug. “Ah no know, all the women Logan has brought to mah place have all been kinda hung up on him, ya know? At think it’s the growling, makes the ladies act all crazy-like-”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Are you saying Ah’m acting crazy-like?”

“You, chere? No, you perfect.” He leaned confidentially close. “But like Ah said, the amount o’ women Ah seen that man go through? It’s like he’s putting the easy into Big Easy-”

“What? What women?” she demanded. “Who are these women?”

Again with the angelic shrug. “Ah no know, barflies, strippers, more than one super-powered babe. The Black Widow. Bethany Cabe. Angelica Jones. Mary-Jane Watson- before she got the nose job. It ain’t like mah boy’s choosy-”

Her voice was tiny. “He’s not?”

Remy flashed her a grin. “Hell no! He don’t mind so long as they have red hair-Says the perfect woman gotta have red hair, that no other hair colour will do. It’s why he liked you so much: No temptation.” He made a mock disapproving face. “Of course, Ah prefer brunettes mahself-” And he trailed off. Grinning widely.

Apparently oblivious to that fact that he’d made an absolutely fatal error in telling Rogue that.

Because suddenly Marie wasn’t listening. At least not to him. She was too busy seething with rage, listening as her inner monologue counted off the many, many, many times she had had to deal with Logan’s damn redhead fetish in the past. Remembering every ginger stick-insect barfly she’d had to make uncomfortable small-talk with as she drove them outta the Mansion. Remembering Logan the Asshole’s tone just now when he’d said there was no way Remy would be interested in her- And now she knew why. Or rather, she’d been reminded why. It was just because she had dark hair: She had dark hair and she was too young and inexperienced and Logan couldn’t see her that way and she wasn’t Jean Grey and honestly, how fucking shallow is that? And no, the fact that she was terrified he’d never care about anyone the way he’d cared about Jeannie had nothing to do with her anger at all- no matter what that inner monologue might claim. Marie knew she wasn’t exactly famous for her slow-burning temper, and she was aware on some level that an uninterested observer would not have reacted quite this volcanically to Remy’s observation- But frankly she couldn’t give a rat’s testicles let alone its ass. Because she’d been reminded that the kinda woman her Wolvie went for would never be her: She was too different. Too dark. Too un-fucking-Jean-like when it came right down to it and even after all this time that thought scared her more than she wanted to admit. Far as Logan was concerned she just wasn’t a good time: She’d always be little Rogue to him, the girl he had to look after. An annoying kid tagalong, never someone you wanted to throw down and have your wicked way with on a pool table no matter how much leather she wore. From far away she could hear Remy‘s voice- “Hey Rogue,” he was calling. “Dammit girl, you in there? You okay? Ah think maybe Ah should go get Logan- Give you back to him-”

Which was when her eyes snapped open. Her gaze piercing and calm.

She would not be given back to anyone- Least of all the Wolverine.

If Logan wanted to be the reason New Orleans was known as the Big Easy then that was his business, but she for one wasn’t interested anymore. She wasn’t.

And more to the point… Two could play at that game.

So she shifted her stance a little until she was standing in LeBeau’s personal space. One hand braced against his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne. Man, he smelt good. “Sorry about that shuggs,” she murmured, making sure to deepen her accent. The other hand coming to rest on his bicep- hello there!- And giving it a little squeeze. Her inner flirt apparently being plenty shameless but not plenty subtle. Though if it got the job done…“It happens sometimes,” she drawled, “Ah go out of it for a minute- all the energy inside me, it becomes overwhelming. Especially with someone like you.” And she looked up at him through her lashes. Nope, her inner flirt didn’t do subtle. Thank God. “Ah’m just so glad you were here,” she continued, “You know, to keep me outta trouble- Save me, like a good Southern gent.” She smiled, practically rubbing against him like a cat. “So what do you say we get some of that real coffee you were talking about?” she continued after a moment. “Because Ah for one think we have better things to talk about then Logan- Don’t you? Cher?”

And with that she slowly, smoulderingly, bit her lip. The sight doing all sorts of naughty things to Gambit- Who didn’t seem to care what colour her hair was.

“You might be right, chere,” he muttered, his gaze flicking to her lips and then up again. Lust colouring their dark depths. “Ah think we can do a day without the Wolverine.”

“That’s the spirit,” she breathed. “That’s just what a girl wants to hear-”

And with that they sauntered off towards Frenchman’s Street together in search of caffeine. Marie so focussed on how absolutely over Logan and his redhead fetish she was that she didn’t catch the smug little grin of triumph that lit Remy’s face. Because after all, it wasn’t like this was the first time he and Logan had gotten into a pissing contest over a girl-

Though Remy was at that point blissfully unaware that it would be the last.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

CHAPTER SIX: I DON’T FEEL LIKE DANCING

Manly clench, manly pout. Manly clench, manly pout…

Pete Parker crossed his arms over his chest and watched, fascinated, as Logan’s lower lip protruded ever further forward. Watched as the famous blades he’d heard so much about flashed in the light. Kit and Jubie were sitting in front of the bar beside the feral, trying to get him to calm down and talk to them, but it wasn’t really working-

Mainly because when he’d initially told Jubilee and Kitty what had happened, the firecracker had nearly fallen off her chair laughing. Which had not, in Parker’s humble opinion, been a politic thing to do. But then he knew that Jubes had no fear of the feral- Or anyone else for that matter-

And that being the case he should probably sit down and watch, because one way or another the next five minutes were sure to be entertaining as Hell.

“So let me get this straight,” Jubes was saying, “You tried to warn Marie that Remy LeBeau is a no-good, honour-free horn-dog? And yet you somehow managed to turn that into You are Unattractive and Too Emotionally Frail To Deal With Adult Life? That about cover it, bub?”

Logan gave an unamused snarl, which Pete decided to treat as a yes.

Although it might also have been an offer to send Jubes to meet her Maker instead.

“And now,” Kitty continued, “After all the trouble you’ve caused our girl by being boneheaded and clueless and blind to the fact she grew up, you want us to help you fix it-”

“Hey, I never asked fer your help, either of you,” Logan snapped. “You’re both just turned up here-”

Kit was unimpressed. “After you proved you had a butt where your brain should be, sensei.”

He opened his mouth to correct her, and then closed it.

Apparently even Logan had to concede that she had a point.

“So what can I do about this?” Logan asked after a long moment. “I know I’m not fucking Shakespeare but even I can see that I screwed up.” And his gaze went to his claws, his expression unguarded. Almost bashful. The idea that he’d upset Marie apparently really tearing him up inside. Pete was absolutely certain of his sexuality and nuts about Kitty, but he had to concede that the pouting, lost expression was disconcertingly attractive-

“Cheer up, sensei,” Kitty muttered then. Laying a soothing hand on his arm and giving it a squeeze. Shooting Pete a grin as she did it, as if to say Still My Favourite, Sweetie, though he paid it no mind. He’d never really been threatened by Logan, not like that: Kitty liked ’em geeklicious, he knew. “I’m sure we can do something about this, after all, if you tell Rogue how you feel-”

Logan looked at her like she was crazy. “I ain’t fuckin’ doing that!” he snarled. “There’s no way in Hades I’m telling her that!” He stood now, pacing, hands behind his back. Brow puckered with worry and the last time Parker had seen that he’d been toe-to-toe with the ole Bucket-head and twisted like a pretzel to boot. “Marie don’t see me like that, don’t you get that?” he was muttering. “You’ve seen the type she goes fer- all clean and hairless and opposed to havin’ a criminal record- and that’s the opposite o’ me.” For the first time, like, ever, Pete felt a twinge of sympathy for the guy, even if his muscles were bigger than Pete’s would ever be. Because man, he looked freaked. “If she knew why I was being so weird,” Logan continued more softly, “It wouldn’t change things none: She still wouldn’t be interested, but she’d just be real awkward around me. Hell, we might not even be friends anymore, and I don’t want that darlin’- I won’t risk that-”

And he looked at his feet, his expression torn up again. Words mumbled.

Which was when Kitty stood up and whacked him upside the head. Jubes following suit and doing the other side. Just for a second he looked like he was considering shooting Pete a Help Me, Fellow Male! Look, but reconsidered it at the last minute-

This was, needless to say, a relief to Pete.

“Are you blind?” Kitty demanded then. “Or just really, really stupid?” She threw Parker a look. “Honey, who’s Roguey been nuts about for as long as you’ve known her?”

“Logan.” It was a no-brainer: Marie’s feelings for her big, broody Canuck were the worst kept secret in the Mansion. Well, that and Bobby’s thing for women’s shoes. “I wish I could cushion the blow,” Pete said, shrugging cheerfully,“But she’s got it for ya. Bad. Like Romeo for Juliet. Or Bert for Ernie-” And he grinned, before belatedly realising that discussing how aroused Rogue might hypothetically look in front of his fiancée and Marie’s prospective honey-to-be was probably not his sharpest move. Especially not when he’d illustrated his point using Sesame Street characters.

Mercifully however Logan had bigger fish to fry.

“So you’re trying to tell me that Rogue’s got a thing fer me?” he muttered. Eyes narrowed suspiciously like he did when he was trying to decide which of your organs to puncture first.

“Yes!” Jubes rolled her eyes. “She only introduces you to the clean-cut, preppy types Wolvie: Get a couple o’ drinks in her and she’s all about the hairy criminals-”

“My Marie goes fer hairy criminals?” The organ-puncturing look was back.

“She’s not your Marie,” Kitty pointed out.

“Maybe she’s not but you’re saying that my Marie likes hairy criminals?”

“Only one hairy criminal,” Jubes said soothingly. “You, Wolvie. Just you.” And she shot him a dazzling smile, though Pete couldn’t help but notice that she was steering him away from anything heavy and throw able that might be within reach.

“So-So you’re saying she’s interested?” Logan was letting himself be led back towards the bar. He looked like he really needed a whisky- But then thinking about Marie always seemed to have that effect on him.

“I’m saying she’s nuts about you. You just gotta give her some encouragement-” He opened his mouth to say something and she spoke over him- “And no, just grabbing her and trying to have your way with her on that bar doesn’t count.”

“I’d find it fucking encouraging, darlin’,” Logan growled.

“Are you a girl?” The manly pout was back as he shook his head. “No, didn’t think so. And since you’re not a girl and I am, here’s what we’re gonna do.” For the first time in the entire conversation she turned her full attention to Pete- He’d known there was a reason Kit had brought him along. Just as he’d known that reason would not be good for his sense of Zen. “Yo, Parker,” she was grinning, “You’ve wined and dined a lady or two in your time, yeah?”

His nerdy sense was tingling. “Yeah.”

“And you know a fair bit about how to treat a lady, right?”

His nerdy sense was starting to whimper. “Riiiight.”

“And you won all those dance competitions when you were a kid, didn’t you?”

His nerdy sense was now having kittens. “Who told you that?” he demanded.

“KitKat. She was trying to explain how flexible you are-” Pryde blushed. Pete blushed. Logan glowered- “And she went into mucho, mucho detail about how you’re a real twinkle toes.” Suddenly Pete wished he had claws. “So here’s what I’m thinking: Me and Kit will handle Marie, and you can do a dancing Obi-Wan on Logan-”

He held up his hands in a T. Logan held up his claws in a T.

“Did you just say something about dancing? With Logan?” Peter sputtered.

Jubes looked at him like she was disappointed in him. It made him feel about three years old. “We have to suit our arsenal to the potential threat, people,” she was saying severely. “We have to tailor this offensive to meet a need.” She began pacing in front of the bar, fingers stapled like a lawyer in a courtroom drama. Pete couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been watching Boston Legal again. “It’s not enough to tell Logan to wear as little clothes as possible around Marie,” she was intoning gravely, “He does that already. It’s not enough to have him growl at her like he wants to melt the clothes right offa her body: He does that already too.” She brought her hands down on the bar, leaning passionately over it. Eyes fixed on the room’s occupants like she was arguing for the life of a man on Death Row. “We must move beyond the Era of Logan the Growler, of Logan the Semi- Stalker,” She thundered. “We must even move beyond the Era of Logan, the Scruffy Sex God Who May or May Not Turn Up If You and He Make A Date! We must move ourselves into the Era of Logan, the Considerate. Of Logan, the Coordinated. Of Logan, The Only Man Marie Wants To Date. In short, we must move into the Era of Logan The Dancer! Can you help us with that, Petey?” She demanded. “Can you?”

And she banged her hands on the bar. Eyes burning.

It occurred to Pete in that moment that if she ever tried for world domination, the planet wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Now if we are going up against the Cajun Casanova,” she continued after a moment, “Then we need to teach Logan at least some sort of basic dating behaviour: There’s only so far that belt-buckle will get a man, no matter how big it is. Or what the girls toilets say he can do with it, if given enough time.” Logan actually kinda blushed at that. Suddenly Pete wished he were blind. “We must show our Southern Belle that this Yankee diamond in the rough is the best person to stick with,” Jubes was saying. “That those well muscled shoulders are the best place to put her ankles when she’s feeling like she needs a little something-something to get her through the day! And dancing is the best place to put our efforts: It’s physical, so a prime physical specimen like the Wolvster should pick it up in no time. It’s date behaviour, which isn’t something Roguey’s ever gonna have seen outta him before. But more to the point- Rogue will know he made this effort for her, to be with her. And that will mean, Wolvie, that you will get very lucky indeed. So who will stand with me to get these two fine people laid? Who Will Stand With Me!?!” And she banged on the bar for emphasis.

“I will!” said Kit.

“I will!” said Logan. And then, in an undertone, “And thanks, darlin’. fer the whole helping me get laid thing.” He tapped her nose. “Pum’kin.”

So there was really only one thing Pete could say.

“I will,” he mumbled, half-heartedly. Because I love Kitty and you nut-jobs are all related to her. “But I get to lead, you understand that?” He tried his best to look stern.

Logan’s grin was terrifying. “Fer the beginning, son, fer the beginning. But something tells me, I’m gonna be leading real soon…”

You’re sooo lucky I love you, Kitty, Pete thought as he watched her sashay away.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

CHAPTER SEVEN: HEAVEN KNOWS I’M MISERABLE NOW

Logan put his hand at the small of Peter’s back.

The young man took Logan’s large, hairy paw in his own and squeezed.

The younger man began counting off a cha-cha beat. Slowly, like he was talking to an idiot child. Pushed off, trying to lead Logan backwards in some semblance of said cha-cha step-

And then, just as he had every other time he’d done this today, Logan stepped on the boy’s toes. And then his own. Crushing both. The weight of six foot of adamantium and a lifetime of brooding playing havoc with his “musicality,” whatever the fuck that was. Of course Logan knew that the fact that he was trying to look badass and dance at the same time was probably why his concentration was all over the place, but Hell if he’d admit it-

Pete clambered to his feet then.

Rubbing his toes and probably wondering why he and Kitty had invited anyone to their elopement in the first place. Because Logan was willing to bet it wasn’t turning out like he’d thought. “Again,” he said, and Logan obliged him. Telling himself not to tighten his grip on Parker’s hand in case he broke it. Telling himself to listen to the count like the he’d been told, and not picture Marie and Remy doing something gymnastic and European and motivation fer justifiable homicide on the bar to his right. After all, it wasn’t Peter’s fault they were in this position: Rogue’s belief in his indifference was his own boneheaded fault. And since it was his fault she felt that way then Logan knew it was his responsibility to fix it: No woman of his was gonna go through life thinking her mate didn’t want her because o’ something as insignificant as the fact that her touch could kill. I mean, he thought, What kinda jackass would let that stand in his way? Especially if he had a chance with Marie? And so, Logan lifted his right foot. Tightened his hand on Parker’s and stepped backwards. Again. Then again. Then again, in time and unison. Only this time he made sure to sway his ass as he moved-

Yes, he actually thought that. And did it. He ordered his ass to sway as he moved. And since he was the Wolverine, and the best o’ the best at what he did and all that- His ass obeyed him.

“I love my life,” he heard Kitty snicker then. She was sitting beside the beat-up old CD player, choosing the musical accompaniment to this torture. Jubes had left her in charge while she went out hunting fer Marie and Gumbo, and my but that didn’t exactly fill Logan with confidence. “What can I say, sensei?” the pum’kin was grinning. “Canada dix pointes!”

Little smartass.

“You’re not helping, honey-pie,” Pete gritted out. “And you’re distracting Logan, so could you please cut it out?” He was trying desperately not to make eye-contact with the feral while he led him through his paces, though it wasn’t difficult since he was eye to eye with the feral’s nipples. Or he would have been if Logan hadn’t been prevailed on to finally wear a shirt. Jubes’ earlier claim that Logan was trying to flash Parker “man-cleavage,” hadn’t exactly gone down well and Logan suspected that his young friend would never be able to look him in the eye again-

Though he had to admit that maybe things would probably be easier that way.

“So, how am I doing?” Logan asked. He wasn’t sure how much longer this whole musical feet-ass axis of cooperation was gonna last.

Parker seemed fascinated with his shoes. “You’re getting better.”

“Is he getting the sway thing down?” Kit inquired innocently.

“Yeah,” Pete gritted out. “He is. And we can all see that. Since God has not granted my many previous requests and made me blind.” Pryde giggled and Parker shot her a filthy look before turning his attention back to his student. “Now I’m just gonna turn you, okay Logan?”

Kitty actually bounced in her seat and clapped. It was a pretty disturbing sight.

“Okay, one and two and three and now!” And suddenly Pete spun him out and around, twirling him. Doing a damn good job of it too considering that Logan had a good foot on him and weighed more than his car. Fer a second the feral thought he was gonna lose his balance and drag them both to the floor, but at the last minute he managed to regain control, stepping lightly back towards Pete and feeling the younger man’s arm tight around his waist, his sweaty palm coming to rest on Logan’s hip. For the first time Pete smiled, albeit a little self-consciously. “Better,” he said. “No fractures that time. Now you can try leading…”

“Leading where?” Logan growled. He’d belatedly realised that him and Pete looked like that poster fer Dirty Dancing, only he was the chick in the dress, and he wasn’t pleased about it. Not that he’d ever been persuaded to watch that movie with Marie. Ever.

But again with the moving swiftly along…

Parker was apparently blissfully unaware of this however. “Wherever you want,” he said. “And judging by the look on your face I can probably guess.” He grinned. “Just try to imagine that I’m Marie-”

Logan actually showed his teeth. “Not gonna happen, bub,” he growled.

Now it was Pete’s turn to snort with laughter. “Really?” he asked. “What are you afraid of?” He leaned into the older man, just as Logan had once leaned into Jean Grey long ago. “Think you’ll like it?”

And the little shit actually waggled his eyebrows.

Well, he was gonna show him.

Logan summoned every ounce of machismo he possessed then and poured it into his stare. Wasn’t difficult: he knew he could get a woman fifty paces once he did it that. Cocked the eyebrow too, just fer good measure: After all, chicks dug the eyebrow, just like they dug the stubble and the hair. Pete swallowed but he kept steady contact with the boy, gaze boring into his. Face getting closer and closer, hands on the small of his back. Pete’s eyes widened, blinking like a deer in a car’s headlights. “You still want me to pretend, bub?” he growled huskily. “You still wanna pretend you’re Marie?”

“Who’s pretending she’s Marie?” Rogue’s voice chimed behind him.

And both Parker and the mighty Wolverine actually fucking jumped. Yelped too.

Cause ya know, once you had one o’ course you wanted the complete set.

Marie strode into the bar, Jubes trailing behind her. A very confused look on her face as her gaze passed between Pete and Logan and Kitty. But mainly between Pete and Logan. Didn’t help that the moment she’d spoken he and Parker had leapt apart with the limberness of spring lambs, anymore than it helped that Remy LeBeau was standing at the door, snickering to himself.

He gave Logan a little wave. Logan shot him a little claw.

Marie, Kit and Jubes all rolled their eyes at exactly the same time and immediately Logan felt contrition raise its ugly head.

An incredibly uncomfortable beat.

“Look, Jubie said ya wanted t’see me, shuggs?” Marie said then. That suspicious look still on her face. Logan hated that he’d put it there.

“Yeah,” he said, hand going to rub at the back of his neck. Why the Hell was eye-contact becoming such an issue fer him? “I uh- I wanted to apologise. Fer what I said back there.” He gestured randomly, and Remy smirked some more: Apparently he’d been filled in on what had been said. Prick. “I didn’t mean it like that: I was just being-” What had Jubes said? Oh yeah- “Just being an over-protective moron. Don’t wanna see you hurt, Ki- Eh, Marie.” Despite himself he shot Remy a glare. “You don’t deserve that.”

“Remy no do anything to a petite she no want him to do,” the Cajun drawled, eyes lit mischievously.

Logan forced himself to shrug, make like he was relaxed. “Marie’s a smart woman and she knows her own mind,” he said. “She makes a choice and I’m okay with that.” And he shot her an experimental little smile, testing the waters to see if she was still mad at him.

She smiled back and he felt about a hundred feet tall.

“So, you, uh, wanna try dancing with me?” he asked more quietly. He gestured to Parker. “Kit asked me to give her away and lead the first dance: figure I needed to brush up.” At least that was the official cover story if anyone asked. He shot Marie another experimental smile, relieved when she returned it: She hadn’t noticed, but the second she decided to forgive him she’d let go o’ Gumbo’s hand.

And my, but the Cajun Casanova wasn’t looking so fucking cocky now.

“Ah suppose Ah could help you practice,” she murmured. Stepping further away from Remy and taking Logan’s hand. He noted with satisfaction the way attraction spiked through her scent as she did it, and suddenly he didn’t give a flying fuck what she’d been doing with LeBeau all day: right here and now, she was his. “This okay, Logan?” she asked, holding one hand up and placing the other on the small of his back. The fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. Her dark-eyed gaze was riveted on him, and suddenly it felt like they were the only two people in the world. No wonder Parker liked this dancing shit so much. “Is this- is this okay for ya?”

“Couldn’t be better, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice dropping about an octave without his even willing it to. She was standing so fucking close… “We’re gonna go backwards first,” he said softly. “You good with that?”

She smiled. “Ah trust you.” And with that they began to move. The heat from her body reaching out fer him, the feel of her skin against his comforting and soft. He was pretty sure that Pete and the girls had moved outta the way at some point but he hadn’t noticed. Wasn’t inclined to notice much besides Marie. They moved slowly: The press of her against him was so distracting that he was afraid he’d stand on her feet but he didn’t. In fact, it was so much easier doing this with her than with Pete. The more they danced, the closer they got until every inch of her was plastered against him, her head resting against his chest, her hand twined in his against his heart. Whatever the fuck music was playing nothing more than a drone in the back of his head. Outside there was a world that was humming and buzzing and teeming with life but he didn’t notice it, didn’t notice any of it-

And he especially didn’t notice that Remy had disappeared from the bar.

He especially didn’t notice that the Cajun had pulled his phone out and looked up the number of an old friend.

The phone rang for what seemed like an age until it picked up and a female voice answered. “Mushi mushi,” it said.

Gambit grinned. Just who he was looking for. “Hey Yukio,” he murmured, “It’s good to hear you, girl. Ah was wondering whether you were busy for the next few weeks? Cos Ah got something Ah wanna run by you…”

Five minutes later Yukio- as in, Logan’s Ex, Yukio- had accepted the Thieves’ Guild’s invitation to come kick back in New Orleans for a couple of weeks. Just as she’d accepted an invitation to come stay at his bar and relax. Remy pulled out a glowing Jack of Hearts from his pocket and grinned as he gave her his address and credit card details for her flight over-

“Laissez les bon temps roller,” he said.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

CHAPTER EIGHT: LET’S HEAR IT FOR THE BOY

The rest of the evening passed in a blur.

Marie knew that she hadn’t danced with Logan for very long- Remy had come in about four songs later and cheerfully reminded them that they were in a bar and he’d have to start setting up now- But once had been enough. Enough to ruin her concentration, enough to set her grinning like an idiot for the rest of the night, despite her slight guilt over Gambit. After all, she’d danced with Logan. She’d got her groove on with the Goddamn Wolverine. She’d swayed her ass in time with the finest rear-end in the continental United States-

And she’d seen how happy it made him. Felt the soft, protective way he pulled her against him when they finally started to sway. Marie couldn’t quite believe what had happened: When they moved together, it had been…sensuous. Sexy. All sorts of things she hadn’t thought Logan associated with her. But it had still been fucking awesome: She’d felt the hard contours of his body pressed up possessively against hers, felt his heat and his strength and the beat of his heart when she put her head on his chest. And when they parted he looked down at her like she was the most perfect, gorgeous, desirable woman on the planet. Like she was the only person in the whole world he wanted to look at, let alone could see. Inwardly Marie shook her head: No wonder he had so much success with the ladies. If they’d been able to harness the power of that stare they could have defeated the Brotherhood years ago. Probably the Friends of Humanity too. Hell, if they could smuggle him into the White House the Mutant Registration Act wouldn’t stand a chance against him-

Though somehow Marie doubted the President would appreciate his wife getting an eyeful of sheer, undiluted Wolverine.

She shook her head then, trying to clear it. Pulled on the faucet in front of her and set about piling the dishes into the sink. She’d promised to do the washing up, since Remy was giving them a free place to stay (and cooked dinner too) and so far all she’d managed to do was boil some hot water whilst staring into space. And daydreaming like a school-girl about the same growly, gorgeous feral she’d been fantasising about since she was seventeen. Inwardly she sighed: It wasn’t fair, the way Logan could do this to her. She was like a damn zombie, or maybe some sorta Wolverine junkie. Not even the afternoon spent with Remy had effected her like this: The Cajun might be charming, but he didn’t hit her system like a shot of cocaine. Only the Wolverine seemed to do that. Marie told herself that she was being crazy, that for all she knew she was imagining the intensity she’d felt in him earlier. That if he’d wanted her, he would have told her so by now. After all, Logan was a lotta things with women, but subtle wasn’t on the list. In fact, now that she thought about it, he was probably imagining that she was Kitty and that this was the first dance at her wedding-

And if you think Logan would dance like that with Kitty and Pete would let him live through it, a tart voice chimed in her head, then you’re crazier than a sack of alligators, shuggs. Ain’t no husband-to-be foolish as that.

Marie really hated it when her inner monologue had a point.

“Can I give you a hand there, darlin’?” Logan’s voice sounded then, and despite herself Marie jumped. Not because she’d gotten a fright, but because for a split second she could swear he’d been watching her, and she knew she’d been grinning like a loon. If he had been doing that however he gave no sign of it: Instead, he walked forward, picking up an old dish rag from the table beside him despite the fact that she hadn’t answered. Slinging it over his shoulder, his gaze intent on hers. Marie turned back to the sink, eager for something to do besides mentally undressing him, and as she did so she felt him slide into place beside her. Felt the heat of his shoulder as it bumped against her own. Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea, she thought. What on earth did Ah do to deserve this? She shot him a tiny, sly peek from the corner of her eye and instantly her face went red: He was staring at her with that same, How You Like Your Panties? Smoking Or Melted? Look he’d worn when she danced with him-

And for the first time in her life, Marie thought she might genuinely faint.

“You wanna dry and Ah’ll wash?” she asked him then, keeping her eyes firmly on the sink of dishes. Dropping her hands into the hot, soapy water and beginning to clean a plate. Logan gave a curt nod- “Sure, Marie,”- and waited. His gaze still on hers, doing all sorts of unladylike things to her insides. Marie blew her bangs outta her face- why was it suddenly so hot in here?- and finished the plate. Handed it to him. Eyes still on the soapy water, picking up a crock pot and beginning to scrub. She swore under her breath as she tried to budge whatever Remy had super-glued on- Apparently chicken etouffee was easier to eat than clean up after- And as she did so Logan suddenly shifted so that he was standing at her back. His arms on each side of her, his big, clever hands disappearing into the water to give her some help. Marie went completely still, the feel of this near-embrace apparently frying what was left of her concentration-

And as soon as his hands landed on hers in the water she felt something hot and wet and entirely uncontrollable jolt through her. It was lust.

Also felt something hard and unfamiliar and really, pleasantly big poke her in the ass. It was delicious.

Hello there, Logan, she thought breathlessly.

“That’s enough washing fer one day,” he practically growled.

Marie yanked her wet hands out of the water then. Turning to face him and raking one hand up his back and into his hair. Hooking the other into his jeans loops and pulling him closer. His eyes going wide at her forwardness, breath coming hard against her throat. They stared at one another for another second, mouths open and breathing heavily and then suddenly- His mouth was on hers. Lips and tongue struggling for dominance, little mewling noises that had once been words spilling outta her mouth. He lifted her up, depositing her on sink’s side, not caring that the surface was soaking, not caring that her hands were threading wetly through his clothes. This felt too fucking good. Within seconds he was kissing her again, wet hands squeezing tightly and making her nipples rise. Growling appreciatively as he yanked her strappy tee down over her arms and buried his nose in the valley between her breasts. Oh mah God. Marie had worn a long gypsy-style skirt all day and it fell away from her legs as she parted them for him. Fell away from her hips as he grabbed the back of her knees with his big, wet hands and yanked her into him, a smile that would’ve melted the polar icecaps on his face. They were hip-to-hip, chest-to-chest now, and she for one had no intention of ever letting them be parted again: She launched herself at his throat, teeth breaking the surface and as she did so she heard him make a sound she couldn’t identify, somewhere between a snarl and a moan. Felt his big, heavy hand thread roughly through her hair to hold her mouth in place. “Right there,” he hissed as she bit again, “Right there, darlin’- Just like I like it-”

And then suddenly someone- someone Marie would gladly have gutted- pushed open the door to the kitchen. Turned the light on too. Walked into her-their- territory like there was nothing important going on whatsoever.

And gestured to the couple on at the sink as if they were old friends.

“Hey,” said Remy brightly, “You remember Yukio Kobayashi, right?” He grinned bashfully. “She’s just been dying to see y’all.”

And with that Logan’s ex stalked into the room, arms folded across her chest, muttering in Japanese. “What’s she saying?” Marie whispered to Logan.

His mouth was set in a thin line. “Believe me,” he growled. “You do not wanna know.”

CHAPTER NINE: CRAZY IN LOVE

“So you took my advice,” Yukio said then.

Taking in the soaked floor, the abandoned dishes. The blushing Rogue who was pressing her chest tightly against Logan’s back, trying to hide her nakedness- Not that she really could. The girl’s breasts were hanging over the edge of her pulled down tee, her bra swinging merrily off the tap to her left- right where Logan had thrown it. Too far away for her to reach without flashing the room an eyeful and Yukio knew her better than to think she’d do that. Remy was grinning smugly from the doorway, eyes lit up and neck craned exaggeratedly to get a better look-

An action he abandoned hastily when Logan let his claws loose, holding them protectively in front of Rogue. Turning away from them, careful to keep his frame in front of the girl and shielding her from view. Marie made some little sound- Yukio wasn’t sure whether it was from embarrassment or disappointment at being interrupted- and immediately Logan turned to her, wrapping his big arms around her and tucking her head under his chin. His lips grazing her forehead, voice comforting and soft as he pulled her t-shirt straps back up onto her shoulders and righted her skirt. Despite herself Yukio felt a twinge of jealousy: He’d never touched her like that-

But then that’s why you dumped him, she reminded herself sternly.

You play second fiddle to nobody, not even Marie.

And from the moment she’d first seen the pair of them together it was obvious that second fiddle was all she’d ever be. What Marie and Logan shared wasn’t so much a mutual affection as mutual brain-damage: From the way he smiled every time he laid eyes on Rogue to the way he got bent out of shape when she had a boyfriend, Logan’s feelings for the girl were about as subtle as a truck. And the way Marie looked at her when she first met her! Like the urge to be nice and not go feral on her ass was nearly killing her- Which Yuki suspected it was. The Japanese thief couldn’t understand how they kept their hands off one another: After all, Rogue was hardly a child anymore. But then perhaps that was the problem. Logan’s libido might have recognised when Marie grew up but the rest of him was taking its own sweet time. Which was nice and sweet and honourable and all, but no use to Yuki- Who was far too hot to be the Other Woman in some mutant soap opera, no matter how good Wolverine looked in a pair of jeans. So she’d bid Logan farewell, even doing him the favour of pointing out how he felt, the better to get his ass in gear. And the better to get as far away from his and Marie’s brand of melodrama before she lost her mind. A plan which had worked fine until Remy LeBeau decided to make her the centre-piece in Operation Get Into Rogue’s Knickers And Piss Off Logan-

“Heya Yuki,” Marie’s voice chimed from behind Logan’s shoulder-blades then.

“So nice t’see ya, have a nice flight?” The younger woman was still blushing scarlet, and once again Yuki repressed the urge to thump Gambit.

After all, the awkwardness was his fault.

“I didn’t fly,” she replied wryly instead, “My friend Yoshi was coming here for business and he teleported me. But it’s nice to see you too, Marie.”

Gambit’s head flicked up. “Ah paid nearly $900 for a flight from Kyoto for you,” he sputtered.

“I know. I had no intention of taking it, I just felt you should pay for the honour of my company.” And she grinned sweetly at Gambit’s indignant reaction, causing Logan to throw her a smile. Marie visibly stiffened as he did it and Yuki repressed the urge to give the young woman a thump- If Rogue thought anyone was going to get between herself and Logan when Yuki and her way with whips couldn’t then she was clearly blind. “I thought I’d just come to New Orleans,” the thief continued after a moment, “After all, it’s not every day that the head of the Thieves’ Guild-” she inclined her head towards Remy- “Gives an invitation to a solo contractor like me.” She shrugged. “I didn’t expect to see anyone I knew, let alone you-”

“So you didn’t come to see Logan?” Marie asked tentatively. Her blush was fading, now she was back inside her shirt. She sounded suspicious.

Yuki made sure to look directly at her, her voice firm. “No, my friend, I’m not here to see Logan. I was invited by Remy for what I thought was a business trip. Though I must say-” she gestured to Marie and her former boyfriend, “It’s good to see that you two finally got together.” Remy’s eyes did a little dance of rage and she grinned. “I thought Logan would never get his ass in gear and tell you.”

Marie’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me what?”

“Why, how he felt about you, of course.” Yuki tried not to sound too smug. “I mean, I did point it out but I figured it’d take longer for him to own up to it-”

“You told him how he felt?” Marie had gone very still, the way she did when she was about to engage an opponent. It was a manoeuvre most of the Brotherhood feared on sight. She turned so she was staring at Logan, her expression incredulous. “So that’s why you’re doing this?” she demanded. “Because Yukio told you to?”

“Marie,” the feral growled, “I can explain-”

“Explain what? That the only reason you’ve finally noticed Ah’m a grown woman is because your ex hand-picked her replacement? What am Ah? Your, your training wheels?” And she jumped down off the sink, her expression angry. Remy gave a pleased little chuckle and Yuki stood on his foot. He pouted. “Ah thought you’d finally decided Ah was the one you wanted,” Marie was saying. “Ah thought you’d finally opened your eyes-”

“You are what I want, darlin’,” Logan growled. “You’re so much what I want that it’s making me nuts.” He shook his head, not sure how to say what he wanted: Verbal dexterity and he were hardly bestest buds. “I just needed to hear someone say it to me,” he said. “I just needed to hear someone say I wasn’t imagining it and I wasn’t too damaged fer you and I wasn’t a dirty old man. You were so young when we met, just a kid-”

“Ah’m not a kid!” she snarled.

“I know that!” he snarled right back. “You think I’d do what I just did to you if I thought you were a kid?”

“Ah think you went and felt up your hand-picked rebound girlfriend!” Marie bit out. “Ah think you only went for me when you got permission, like Ah’m some sort o’ helpless little girl!” She pushed him away, shaking her head. She looked livid. “You’ve never needed to be given permission to do anything in all the time Ah’ve known you,” she was muttering. “You take what you want and you don’t give a shit. So now Ah’m supposed to believe that you were waiting for permission to take me?”

“I wasn’t waiting for permission,” he growled. “And I didn’t “take,” you-I’m not a fucking animal-”

Marie crossed her arms. “Then what do you call what we just did? Making love? In a sink surrounded by dirty dishes? Because that sounds pretty animal to me-”

His head whipped up to look at her. “It wasn’t supposed to be like that!” he snapped. “It was a mistake-”

“So Ah’m a mistake now?”

“Trying to fuck you on a kitchen counter was, yeah.” A horrified look flitted over her face and immediately he shook his head, but he couldn’t help it: The words were out there now, there was no way to take them back. Any more than there was a way to change what Marie thought they meant. “Look,” he was muttering, “I won’t lie: This wasn’t how I imagined this. I thought there’d be, be sheets and music and a bed and shit. And candles. Lots o’ candles. And, and pot pourrie, or whatever other girlie shit you’d want.” Rogue went to interrupt him but he rushed on regardless: clearly he felt like he was on a roll. “I just saw you there and I- You smelled like LeBeau, y’know?” He shook his head helplessly. “Even after all that dancing you still smelled like LeBeau. And you shouldn’t smell like him, you’re mine Marie, mine and nobody else’s-”

“So that’s finally got your butt in gear?” Marie said. Her expression could have withered a red-wood, let alone an oak. “That you had proof another man wanted me? You’re unbelievable.” And she shook her head. Hands balled up into little fists at her side. “Ah am not a Barbie doll, you got that?” she was saying. “Ah am not some possession you get to paw like a caveman or order around. And if you actually cared about me then you wouldn’t have waited until another man was interested to try and get me. You wouldn’t have waited until your ex-girlfriend told you it was fine to make your move.” She finally pulled away from him, lip wobbling, eyes glassy. Logan looked like he wanted to shoot himself for having caused her pain. “In fact, if you wanted me Ah know there’s nothing that coulda stood in your way- So cut the bullshit Logan.” Her gaze darted to Remy. “Because Ah’ve heard enough o’that for one night.”

And with that she stalked out of the kitchen, head held high. Slamming the door behind her. Leaving Yuki nonplussed and Logan heart-broken and Remy shaking his head. “That’s not exactly how I planned that,” the Cajun muttered softly then. He looked guilty as Hell.

“Really?” Logan growled. He looked monumentally pissed. “Hey Remy, what’s that on your jaw?”

And without a word of warning Logan’s fist connected with his face, knocking him flying. Snarling and watching him hit the floor, waiting only long enough to ascertain that his blow hurt like Hell and then he stalking out.

“I hope you know you brought this on yourself, Gambit,” Yukio drawled. She couldn’t help smiling.

“Remy know, petite. Remy know. What can Ah say? Pretty women make me stupid.” And with that he hobbled out.

CHAPTER TEN: HEART OF GLASS

One thing he had to hand to Marie: She stomped like a pro.

She stomped down Bourbon Street so fast that even the bouncers got out of her way. She stomped down St. Peter’s Street, muttering so vindictively that even New Orleans cab-drivers- a breed who as a rule ain’t easily shocked- gave her a wide berth. She even managed to stomp her way into Jackson Square, scarf flying behind her and expression like a thunder-clap, muttering under her breath about how she wanted to skin Remy LeBeau alive for even thinking of inviting Yukio to New Orleans- Which was something Logan would cheerfully help her with. In fact, it wasn’t until she reached Saint Louis Cathedral that she actually stopped stomping-

But of course the stomping was followed by sinking onto a bench and crying- soft, upset crying. And considering how much he hated that fucking sound, Logan would have been happy to have her stomp all night-

No matter how much of a bitch she’d just been.

So he stood in the shadows for a couple of seconds, torn between wanting to go over there and shake her until she calmed down (Jesus, had he done that to her?) and finding someone to pummel his frustrations out on before he opened his mouth and put his other foot into it. Of course he was in the Big Easy, so finding some out-of-towner to pick a fight with wouldn’t have been difficult; half the fuckin’ tourists were already drunk. But then that would mean leaving Marie crying on a bench in the middle of the night, and he was hardly gonna do that. No matter what happened he didn’t abandon his girls. Something weird was going on here: Rogue had never really liked Yukio, he knew that, but she’d put up with her for his sake and it seemed unlikely that she’d let her dislike overtake her now. In fact, she’d been fine in the kitchen- blushing scarlet and embarrassed as Hell at being caught but fine- until Yuki smiled at him. That was when the jealousy had begun creeping into her scent, that was when she started being pissed off. Logan knew he wasn’t the most sensitive of people but even he could see a pattern there, it didn’t take a rocket-scientist-

And that being the case, he needed to know what was up with her. The fact that she was crying and muttering “Ah’m a moron,” under her breath told him that she already knew she’d acted like an idiot: The question was, why?

So he padded quietly over to her, not wanting to startle her- people who startled Rogue ended up with bruises- but not wanting to draw attention either. Girl had a shy streak a mile wide when she cried, he knew that from when she was a kid. In fact, that she was even shedding tears in public showed just how upset she was: She’d developed her own brand of stoicism somewhere along the line and it was impossible to crack. His monosyllabic had nothing on hers. She just looked up to find him staring at her- “This seat taken?”- his expression somewhere between exasperated and wary, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. He knew his face looked pinched and white and not from the cold: She’d worried him. After all, the last time an X-Man exhibited these kind of mood-swings the Hellfire Club had been involved, and he really didn’t wanna think about that asshole Shaw laying paws on his Marie-

A very long, very awkward beat.

“Ah’m sorry,” she sniffled then. The chocolate brown eyes were ringed red and tears were running down her nose: A cute crier she was not.

“I got that. Now is anyone sitting here?” And he indicated the bench beside her, waiting until she gave a quick bob of her head to take his place. Sitting a little away from her in case she needed- what was it Jubes was always going on about?- space.

She looked at the distance between them and her eyes watered up again. Sorrow leaking into her scent to go with the embarrassment and anger, though she didn’t ask him to move closer. Apparently the presence of an audience was enough to make her pull herself together though: not a tear fell this time.

“Ah suppose Ah deserve that,” she said, and she indicated the space on the bench.

Logan fought the urge to roll his eyes. “It ain’t a punishment darlin’,” he said testily, “I just figured you wanted some space.”

“Well Ah don’t!”

“Well fine then!” And he clumped himself down beside her, so near their thighs were pressed together. Arms crossed stubbornly over his chest, his pose mirrored by Marie. For a second warmth shot through his bloodstream at the contact, and lust- mixed in, admittedly, with embarrassment- shot through Rogue. Turning her scent delicious again. He’d never really told her what that smell did to him, figured it would freak her out or disgust her-

But then, there was so much he’d wanted to tell her over the years and he never had done. He supposed that was one of his more minor lapses.

Another beat.

“Look,” he said, “I ain’t Hank so I’ll leave out all the big words and just cut to the chase: What The Fuck, Marie?” And he swept a hand behind him, as if to encompass all that might be The Fuck. “What the Hell happened back there?”

“Ah don’t know.” And her face went scarlet again, her expression suddenly making her look very young indeed. She dropped her chin to her chest, eyes downward, brought her un-gloved hands to fiddle in her lap. “Ah just- Ah’ll apologise to Yukio, okay?”

“Yeah, you will do, but that’s not what’s worrying me.” And he took the hand nearest to him, his big, blunt fingers twining about her wrist, making it look tiny. Fragile. Beautiful, like the rest o’ her, but he didn‘t say that out loud. “One minute everything was fine, darlin’,” he was saying softly. “More’n fine- Jesus, it was fucking great- and then suddenly-”

“We were interrupted,” she said softly. She was staring very hard at a spot in front of her.

“Yeah, we were. But Gambit didn’t see anything, and Yuki didn’t care, so why’d you get so ornery?” And he tugged the hand he was holding until it was in his lap, squeezing it. Marie bit her lip. “C’mon, what happened?”

“Ah just- Ah just-” She shook her head, embarrassment pouring offa her. “Everyone was staring,” she blurted. “Mah boobs were hanging outta mah shirt. Ah just realised that the guy Ah spent the entire day flirting with was only paying attention t’me to piss you off. You kept talking about how Ah was yours, not because you wanted me but because another man did and someone else told you to and we danced and we flirted and Ah thought it was great and then we nearly had sex on a kitchen counter and you smiled at Yukio like you used to smile at me-” And she stopped, her expression mortified. Clearly what she’d been about to say was her main point but she’d stopped short.

“And what?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line and for a second Logan thought she wasn’t gonna answer him. Her little arms crossing even more tightly across her chest. But then- “Ah know what happens to the girl you have sex with on the kitchen counter, shuggs,” she said softly. It sounded like the words were being torn outta her, but she said them nonetheless. “Ah know what happens to that girl. Ah mighta forgotten for a second when we were getting down and dirty, but Ah know- Because Ah’ve given her a lift into Westchester so many times. Because Ah’ve sworn that you gave her the right cell number. Because Ah’ve bumped into her and nearly gotten mah ass kicked when Ah go clubbing in the city. Ah know what happens to her Logan- And Ah never thought Ah’d be her. Never. But tonight- Tonight Ah felt like Ah was.”

And she pulled her hand back suddenly, her expression closing off, moving her hand quite deliberately out of Logan’s grasp.

He opened his mouth to say something to her, but the words just wouldn’t come out.

“Look,” she continued after a moment, “It’s a weird time for everyone, with the wedding and all. Ah’m stressed, you’re stressed, Ah get that. And Ah’m sure that when you’ve had some time to think about this you’ll be thankful Ah stopped things, because you’n me, how weird would that be?” And she gave a broken, forced little laugh that grated against Logan’s nerves something fierce. “Ah get that you were trying to “save,” me from Remy,” she said softly, “and Ah’m grateful, shuggs. Truly Ah am. But Ah’m not what you want, Logan, Ah’ve always known that. Ah ain’t Yukio, Ah ain’t Jeannie. No matter what happened in that kitchen Ah’ll always be clumsy, familiar ole Marie. And Ah won’t be an itch you scratch just cos someone told you to- Ah have some self-respect, you get that?”

And with that she stood up and moved away from him, her face resolute.

And oh, how Logan wished he had a handy tourist he could skewer then.

Because he opened his mouth to tell her that it wasn’t like that, that that wasn’t what he wanted- But he couldn’t. Couldn’t correct her, couldn’t stop her- Didn’t even have the words to say what he felt. It felt like the lump o’ hurt in his chest had blocked off access to his vocal chords and he didn’t have any idea how to move it. Didn’t have any idea what to do. A night from long ago, a whispered rejection involving the difference between good guys and bad guys and what women did with each flashed through his head, and he felt the claws spring loose without his even willing it. Felt his heart start to thump in his chest as adrenaline flooded through him, not from the desire for violence but from the ache of hearing just how little Marie though of him. She thought he’d- that he’d treat her like that? She thought he only wanted to get laid? Logan wasn’t a great talker, he knew that, and he wasn’t great with feelings, he knew that too. But he’d never have treated Marie that way and if she thought he would, did she even know him?

Because it was mighty fucking painful to realise that the woman of your dreams thought you were a complete and utter man-whore of a prick.

So Logan drew himself up, pulling the claws back in. Turning the collar of his jacket up before turning on his heel and walking away. She smiled uncomfortably, but didn’t say anything- Which was pretty much alright with him. Because if she wanted to think that kinda shit about him, then he was okay with it. There were plenty more fish in the sea- Whether or not they could do to him with one dance what that girl right there had done. Whether or not they could make him feel a hundred foot tall with a smile. The feral began making his way towards Remy’s bar, her behind him. The silence between them painful where once it might have been content. Marie trailed after him, once or twice trying to make conversation but she got only grunted answers- when he even answered her. So eventually she stopped trying at all. They made it back to Remy’s in record time and went their separate ways at the stairs without even sparing a glance for one another-

While unnoticed, to their right, Jubes, Kit and Yukio watched them. A pot of green tea between them on the bar.

“This,” Yukio announced, “Is why I don’t do domestic.”

“And this,” Jubes announced, “Is why we’re all lucky I’m here.”

And with that she poured some more tea and detailed how she was going to fix this-

Because after all, you never sent a man to do a woman’s job.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: I PLAY CHICKEN WITH THE TRAIN

“You have a plan?” Yuki said then.

Cocking a questioning eye at Jubes over the pot of green tea. Barely looking up to acknowledge Logan as he stomped through Remy’s bar like a force of nature, a look on his face like a smacked ass. It was quite a sight.

“I have a plan,” Jubilee nodded. “A cunning plan. A very cunning plan. I just have to scare the living bejezus out of Remy LeBeau first and it’ll be coolio-”

Yuki grinned. “Then let’s get on with it.”

And with that the three woman stalked towards Remy’s rooms.

“This is madness,” Yuki said bluntly.

“This is brilliance,” Kitty said at exactly the same time.

“This is gonna get me killed,” Remy said, rubbing his sore, recently-woken head and glaring blearily at Jubilee.

“This is necessary,” Jubes snapped, glaring right back at him- And Remy had to admit, the petite looked kinda sexy when she did that. In fact, suddenly he found he no mind being woken up at all… “Besides,” the petite continued, “it wouldn’t be if you hadn’t gone and dragged poor Yuki into this. So quit with the bellyaching and make with the romancing before I paffinate you, ya dig?”

And with that she shoved Remy bluntly towards Marie’s door, from which the not-so-faint-sounds of a room being trashed could be heard. A shower of paffs trailing him to remind him how mighty unwise it would be to disagree with Jubes’ brilliant plan- Not that Remy really considered arguing with her. There was plenty else he suspected would be fun to argue with Jubilee about, but not this. No, Remy was happy to try and help fix the mess he’d made now that he’d realised Logan actually, y’know, cared about Rogue and shit. The Bro Code was real clear on this: It was okay to get into a pissing contest over a girl you just wanted to bang, but a girl an homme actually cared about? That was different. There were dibs rights involved there. Trying to steal her away made you all sorts of an asshole, and Gambit knew this-

Which was why he was prepared to go through with Jubes’ harebrained plan, despite the fact that it would obviously lead to him getting the shit kicked outta him. Because as mah sweet Momma always said, he reminded himself, you make the mess, you clean the mess, non?

The sounds of the room being trashed stopped then.

As Remy raised his hand to knock another sound took over- A keening, soft sobbing that would have melted Sabre-tooth’s heart, let alone a romantic soul like his. If he hadn’t felt like a bastard for upsetting her before this he really felt like a bastard now. Because fuck, he thought, she must really love that hairy midget. And thanks to me, she thinks she never gonna get anywhere with him. Of course, Remy knew this was a crock: Give Logan the slightest chance and he’d forgive her, he just needed to find someone else to blame their romantic troubles on. It was why he was standing outside her door like a moron, preparing to let himself become the villain of the little mutant soap-opera that was currently his life-

“Someone out there?” he heard Marie call softly then.

He took a moment to ready himself before he answered. “Yeah, chere,” he said softly. “You mind if Ah come in?” And he pushed his way into the room before she could answer, a worried look on his face. Marie was sitting on the bed, her eyes red, her expression embarrassed at having been caught crying. The remains of his room looked well and truly shot to Hell. “Ah’ll clean it up, Ah swear,” she muttered.

“Don’t worry about it, chere.” He sat down on the bed beside her. “Besides, ain’t Ah the one should be apologizing?” And he offered her his best smile, the one which had worked on hundreds of women before this.

Apparently it didn’t work on X-Men however: Rogue narrowed her eyes.

The temperature in the room dropped about ten degrees.

“Look,” he began, “Ah came in to say dat Ah’m sorry Ah dragged Yuki over here, it was a shitty thing to do.” She looked epically unimpressed. “And the thing with interrupting you and Logan getting down to it, dat wasn’t so nice a thing t’do neither.” He tried for his trademark, mischievous smile but Rogue was stony-faced. Tough crowd, he thought. “And Ah’m sorry you think Ah spent the day flirting with you only to make Logan jealous; Ah wanted to get somewhere with you, Ah swear it-”

“And where did you wanna get?”

“Heaven, of course!” His voice was mock-serious. “And by heaven Ah mean third base.” At her glare he shrugged. “What can Ah say? Ah was gonna take you there too, Armed-”

“Ah don’t doubt it, you cocky bastard,” she said dryly, and Remy had to grin. She was shaking her head, smiling, though it looked like it was against her better judgement. “Welcome to mah life,” she muttered. “The one where Ah actually get to be happy that you were trying to get inta mah pants and not just piss Logan off-”

He took her hand, made his gaze smoulder. “Chere,” he said gravely, “Ah’m sorry you ever doubted Ah was trying to get into your pants. Because Ah totally have been since the moment you got here, and in fact those pants look so fine Ah might have to try getting into them again right here-”

She gave an unladylike snort. “They’d cut you across the crotch.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “But what a way to go!”

And with that he started to tickle her, earning a shriek of surprised laughter, her dark mood finally breaking. She’d been pissed that he was trying to have his wicked way with her and that he wasn’t: Dictionary definition of a no win situation right there. And besides, it looked like she needed to laugh, like she needed someone to take all the seriousness offa her shoulders; That had been obvious to Remy from the moment he saw her with Logan.

Girl spent so much time trying to distract the feral from his darkness that she never thought to find someone to distract her from her own.

So he made sure to push her playfully around, batting her with one of the pillows. Not in a sexual way- However tempting that might be- but just enough to make her laugh and to ensure that she would reek of his scent by the time Logan returned. Which was the point of Jubes’ plan, after all. If she seemed far away sometimes he didn’t say it, and if she didn’t talk to him about what had happened he didn’t try to force her to. He figured he’d done enough, said enough. And that maybe she’d guessed what had happened between Logan was her wasn’t his fault really, an interpretation of events he really hoped she’d stick to when his Growliness asked. He stayed about half an hour longer, making jokes and small-talk, keeping her mind off Logan. Insuring she was tired enough to actually sleep when she finally said goodnight. Before she closed her door to him he made sure to smile at her and kiss her on the forehead; She shook her head and rolled her eyes again, knowing damn well he knew how she felt about Logan but apparently liking the attention all the same. “Goodnight Remy,” she said dryly.

“Goodnight, Armed,” he answered her-

And as soon as her door closed he felt someone yank him by the collar and drag him down backwards. A pair of claws suddenly digging in his throat. Logan was standing outside her door, waiting for him- stalking was the more accurate though unfortunate term- and man oh man he looked pissed at what he’d just seen. Like, just had to leave a demon princess in the middle of goat sex pissed.

And that was saying something, Gambit knew.

“Jubes called me,” the feral hissed then. His claws were actually twitching. “Whatcha think you’re doing Remy? Can’t you leave the poor girl alone?”

Gambit felt inside his sleeve for a card and started to charge it. Mentally preparing himself for an ass-kicking of epic proportions if it meant he’d get his friend and his honey back on track. “Ah’m Picking a fight with a blind asshole,” he said maliciously, grinning. “That’s what Ah’m doing. Because Ah think Marie likes her some good Southern manners and not a midget with anger control issues-”

Which was as far as he got before Logan decided to introduce him to the window behind him and see how well they got on together.

They better name one of their kids after me, Remy thought as he fell through it. Even if it’s a girl-

And then the game was on.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

CHAPTER TWELVE: IT’S RAINING MEN

Did Remy LeBeau’s ass just fly by me?

And without really thinking about it Marie darted over to her window, yanked it open. Poked her head through to check the (now soaking) alley out back. Below her the Cajun was lying, spread-eagled, on the sidewalk; Despite the rain he was holding a glowing playing card in one hand and a pair of familiar-looking- make that a very familiar-looking- Hello Kitty panties in the other. The fact that he had probably just condemned himself to a slow and painful death for underwear theft apparently of no consequence to him at all-

Because after all, he was the amazing Gambit: Marie seriously doubted hers were the first undies he’d lifted, just like she seriously doubted they’d be the last.

And Ah believe the phrase Ah’m looking for is Eew.

Apparently his Moronic Assness wasn’t done with making with the suicidal yet however. “You-hoo, fur-ball!” he was cooing up at a point to her left, “Look what Roguey gave me-”

And as if to emphasise he began spinning the panties around on one finger. Lifting the other hand and giving someone on at the window beside her a jaunty little wave. Marie flipped him the bird and his grin grew wider: The rain was slicking his clothes to his body now, and he knew that he looked good. Devilishly good. Gay porn actor good- Not that Marie had ever been persuaded to watch that stuff with Bobby before he finally renounced his Narnia-seeking ways. But moving swiftly along…LeBeau caught her watching and raked on hand through his soaking hair before shaking it out, smouldering. The effect what every Calvin Klein ad campaign had tried to capture and none had ever come near. “You welcome to look, Armed,” he was calling to her, pouting, “Cos Ah know you no get enough o’ me tonight, darlin’-”

Well, that was a epically dumb word to use.

Because with an oh-so-familiar snarl Marie saw another shape blur by her window then. A muscular, hairy, angry-looking shape that landed easily on the alleyway, its body automatically folding into a perfect crouch. The scent of Kick-Ass pouring off of it like the stink of Teen Spirit deodorant at a high-school dance, the fact that Remy had used his term of endearment on her obviously making him ornery as Hell. Lightning struck again, glinting off adamantium claws but even without that Marie knew who she was looking at: Logan had just jumped into the alley and appeared ready to engage Gambit in a spot of hottie-on-hottie action. Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea, she thought, What did Ah do to deserve this? Marie shook her head to herself, trying to clear it: The smart, adult X-Man part of her brain so beloved by Ororo Munroe and Hank McCoy was telling her to go down there this instant and break the fight up but the Jubilee portion of her brain was practically bouncing with excitement. Clapping with pent-up, girlish glee. Because while Marie genuinely didn’t want anyone hurt, and had never gotten off on watching two men fight for her, and knew well that she was a strong-minded, independent woman with a mind and a will of her own-

Well, she had a ringside seat for two gorgeous, soaking wet mutants making with the manly and she was only frickin’ human: Of course she wanted to watch this.

She wasn’t very proud of herself about it, but whatcha gonna do?

“I’m gonna gut you, Gumbo,” Logan growled then. He was circling the Cajun slowly, the claws to the fore. “They’re gonna be finding pieces of you fer weeks-”

Remy grinned. “Maybe, but dat no matter Wolvie: Marie’s already found herself the most interesting piece o’ me-”

Snikt. “No matter how much you’ve taken from Rogue,” Logan hissed, “I guarantee you ain’t come close t’seeing the most interesting parts o’ my Marie-”

“Like what? That gorgeous rack o’ hers?”

The feral showed his teeth. “No, that gorgeous fucking person inside, ya dumb-ass.”

And with that he slashed angrily at Gambit, the Cajun darting out of the way at the last minute. A blush at his words rapidly staining Rogue’s face even as he swatted Gambit’s pre-charged playing card easily out of his hand. Because only Logan could have made the threat of skewering one of his best friends into something endearing. The card went off with a small boom, taking some of Remy’s shirt and jeans leg with it. Leaving him sporting an expanse of bare, muscled-looking calf, thigh and chest where once there had been cloth. Marie heard a burst of applause to her right and realised that the local working girls- and some drunken female tourists- were now watching the match, ogling her honeys. Sending a surge of possessive annoyance through her veins. Neither man seemed worried though: Gambit clearly liked the idea of putting on a performance and Logan was too fucking angry to give a rat’s ass. (He was also wearing a lot more and looking a lot better, which might have had something to do with his mood). Remy turned to give the female spectators a playful bow and Logan took his opportunity, raining down three quick, dirty blows on his friend and forcing LeBeau back into a corner. Muttering an angry string of cuss words like man-whore and Chlamydia-carrier and (Marie’s new favourite) yo-yo boxers with the fervour of a Baptist minister who’d suddenly found he could speak in tongues-

Which was all kinds of hot and wrong and sexy, but Marie couldn’t bring herself to mind.

Gambit began fighting back then, keeping up the taunting. “Six fucking years with her, homme, and no action?” he was calling. “What, you need me to draw you a fucking map?” He began ducking and diving, practically dancing around Logan. Manoeuvring the feral towards the back an open garage at the end of the alley. Marie felt worry race up her spine at the realisation- nobody puts Wolvie in a corner, dammit!- and began making for the ground floor. Hoping that she got outside before somebody lost a limb. Because while on some level she knew that she was being paranoid- he was The Butch and Mighty Wolverineä , for crying out loud- she couldn’t help the way her protective instincts went off where Logan was concerned-

After all, he was her Wolvie; Remy could go get his own damn feral to annoy.

Determined therefore to stop the match- she’d gotten her eyeful already- she tore down the stairs and out through the bar to the alley. Half consciously noting Jubes taking bets to her right, muttering, “Mommy likes La Perla,” when Kitty tutted disapprovingly beside her. Pete Parker’s face buried in one hand, muttering “Why couldn’t I be blind, God? Why didn’t you make me blind?” to the chica’s left. By now Gambit had started charging small objects and flinging them at Logan, the need to force him into that open garage obviously becoming more pressing. The swamp rat’s glances at Jubie getting more and more noticeable, panic starting to leak off him just like his French cologne. Before Jubes could intervene- which was what Marie presumed LeBeau wanted her to do- Rogue lunged in between the two fighters. The need to stop this nonsense making her slightly less than strategically-minded for all her X-Men training. As soon as was in place Remy grabbed her and launched her into Logan, knocking both of the backwards into the darkened garage and then charging the garage door with a single, well-thrown card. The door slamming shut with lightning speed and plunging both herself and Logan into darkness. For a second the only things she could register were the sound of their panting breaths and the feel of 300 pounds of soaking wet badass against her chest and then-

Then-

A tiny paff appeared in the corner of the garage. Another joining it, too miniscule to do any damage if they went off. Within seconds a whole host of paffs had appeared at the side of the garage, illuminating a bunch of warm-looking blankets, a make-shift double bed. Multi-coloured fairy lights blinking on to replace the paffs and lighting up the space, showing off the poster someone had hung over the bed: You‘re not getting out until you sort this shit, chica, it read. Marie felt Logan shift, taking in the scene around him: Candles stood stacked in one corner, a post-it saying light me plastered next to them. Another post-it saying unclench, hair-ball and talk to her plastered to their right. A bottle of red wine and some containers of food were arranged on the blankets, a box of Cubans and- in an act of tactlessness which could only be the handiwork of Jubilee- a massive box of Trojans XXL beside them. A CD player and batteries laid out near the back. In short, they’d been left in here with everything they needed for a romantic night in, or a heart-wrenching discussion of their relationship-

“You get the feeling that they’re trying to tell us something, shuggs?” Marie drawled.

“What the fuck gave you that idea, darlin’?”

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: TRUE

“We got played,” Logan said then.

And he turned to her, his familiar eyes darkening, his shirt still soaking wet. His jeans, she could now see, streaked with mud and rain. Despite herself Marie felt heat rising to her cheeks, felt herself taking in every wet, dirty, scuffed, perfect inch of him. Her fingers tingling, the urge to reach out and touch him an actual, physical pain though of course she wouldn’t do anything about it- Even if they’d just essentially been issued an ultimatum to lay back and think of Westchester from all their closest friends. From outside she could dimly make out the sounds of the storm easing, of Jubes and Kitty moving the crowd who’d watched the fight on. Could hear Gambit flirting with one of the working girls, could hear Pete telling him to piss off when he tried his charm on with Kit. But none of that registered, not really. After all, she was locked in a tricked-out sex cave with the man of her dreams and nothing in her previous experience had prepared her for that, at least nothing in real life-

A beat.

“You okay?” Logan asked then, making her jump in the near darkness. He’d crossed the few paces separating them and now he was standing firmly within her personal space, his eyes riveted on hers. In the dictionary under sex on a stick Marie was pretty certain there was a picture of him wearing his current expression.

She blinked and took a nervous step away.

“Ah’m okay,” she stammered, “Just a little embarrassed, is all. Ah didn’t see this coming and Ah should have-”

“You ain’t the one thought introducing Jubes to Remy would be a good idea,” he pointed out dryly.

“No, Ah’m the one thought letting Remy LeBeau into mah room was a swell thing to do.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Trusting nature’s not a bad thing, Marie-”

“It is when you’re best friends with Jubilation Lee.”

He closed his mouth, deciding to give her that one- After all, she really did have a point.

“So how long we gonna pretend to be trapped in here before I stage a jail-break?” he asked then, trying very hard not to stare at the bed. The fact that they were locked in a room with nothing but one another and all the ingredients for a letter to Penthouse clearly not helping his sense of Zen. “I mean, you wanna eat some of the food or something-” Whatever lightness had been in his expression dimmed. “Or you wanna get outta here right away?”

Suddenly they were both fascinated with the floor.

Marie knew she didn’t wanna get out of here. She’d had to accept that when she jumped in between the immortal killing machine and the guy armed with a set of playing cards who was taunting him and tried to keep the killing machine safe. But how could she tell him? “Ah doubt we can do,” she ventured eventually. “Ah mean, Jubes probably has the entire place booby-trapped to the nines-”

Again the cocked eyebrow. “You think I can’t handle a little Jubes-related ass-kicking?”

“I think the universe couldn’t handle a little Jubes-related ass-kicking if chica decided she wanted to take it on. Besides-” She forced herself to look up- “Is it really so terrible being in here with me?”

“I never have anything better to do than spending time with you,” he said quietly.

And it was in that moment that Marie decided being locked in a tricked-out sex cave with Logan officially fucking rocked.

“You mean that?” she murmured and he nodded. His expression suddenly somewhere between willing and wary. Hands clenched at his sides. She shivered: He was so close she could see the where the water had soaked through his shirt, could make out the swell and rise of his body as he breathed tightly. In then out, in then out- The motion of his chest almost mesmerising, the nearness, the warmth of him making her feel sticky and tingly and wet. He swallowed and she watched in helpless fascination as his Adam’s apple worked, as his pulse tapped its steady rhythm next to it. The urge to reach out and lick that long, corded vein almost overpowering in this close, hot room. Logan was staring at her just as intently: Whether he was conscious of it or not he was backing her against the door, his hands going on either side on her hips. She had to dig her nails into her palms to try and keep from touching him-

“Are you cold?” she whispered. Because she had to say something.

“No.” He was looking at her intently. “Are you?”

She shook her head, a little shyly. Her hands had gone helplessly to his shoulders, the fingers curling in the fabric to twist. “Do you wanna break out of here?” she asked, breath held.

“No. Do you?”

“No!” And she shrugged helplessly. “Ah just… Ah just…” She feared with a sudden, mortifying intensity that this would all come streaming outta her the way it had in Jackson Square. “Ah just don’t wanna be the girl you fuck on the kitchen counter shuggs,” she said quietly. “Ah don’t wanna be the girl who loses you because you walked away.” She searched his face, not knowing what else to say, how else to explain it to him. “Do you get that?” she asked finally.

“I do. I really fucking do. I even get how things went too fucking fast in that kitchen. I just-” He shook his head helplessly, sighing. “Look, do you have any idea what it’s like wanting someone who doesn’t want you?”

She blinked. “Shuggs, Ah coulda taught a course in that at the Mansion, mainly because of you. But-” Realisation hit her like a big, shiny, adamantium-lined truck to the head. “You mean you thought- You thought Ah didn’t want you?” she whispered. “You thought Ah wanted Remy more?” What. The. Fuck?

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “You like ’em young and clean, not like me-”

“Since when did that ever describe Remy LeBeau?” she demanded. “And besides…” Her voice was tiny. “You like ’em elegant and sophisticated, not like me.”

That riled him. “What makes you say that?” he demanded. “Did you ever ask me?”

She drew back. “No,” she snapped, “Ah settled for having it thrown in mah face whenever Ah had to pass your place to get to the Danger Room.”

“That’s not fair, Marie,” he growled, “I didn’t do that shit on purpose. Besides, did you expect me to live like a monk before I figured out how I felt about you?”

“No,” she snapped back. “But did you expect me to live like a nun until Ah figured out how I felt about you?”

“That was different-”

“How was it different?”

“It just was-”

“Why? Cos you’re the big, scary Wolverine and you say so?”

“No,” he snapped, “Because you’re the fucking smart one out of the pair of us and I expected you at least to see through the no good bastard who’d hurt you and finally choose the no good bastard who’d do anything fer you- Who is me, by the way!” And he let out a thick puffing breath, hands clenching. Finally angry enough to stop talking around his feelings and actually fucking deal. “But you didn’t get that!” he was saying, “You went chasing after the biggest man-whore in New Orleans and not me! And no matter what I did you just got madder and madder at me, and no matter what I felt you seemed to like Remy more! And now, when I’ve ruined what chance I had with you and can’t seem to fix it that no matter what I try, now everyone I know has decided to lock me in here with you and all I can think about is fucking you senseless… But I can’t cos I still don’t believe you really want me! Do you have any idea how frustrating that is, Marie? DO YOU?”

At which point Marie grabbed hold of his belt loops and hauled him over to her and kissed him so hard she thought they both might pass out because it really, what else was she gonna do at a time like this?

For a second he paused in surprise and then- Suddenly they were in each other’s arms, hot and wet and needy. Both tripping backwards, landing on the bed. That same out-of-control heat that had claimed them in the kitchen rushing through them now, but underneath something else, something different. Something soft and wet and sweet. Slowly Logan gentled the kiss, his nose and mouth ghosting slowly down her body, not even trying to remove her clothes. Fingers squeezing her almost chastely, lazily licking and nibbling at her throat. She took a deep breath through her nose and let her hand go to the nape of his neck, fingers raking softly through the feathery hair, silkier than anything she’d felt before. Heard him give a long, contented purr as her hands cupped the back of his head. He was kissing her slowly now, methodically working his way up her body. Looking into her eyes once he got to her mouth and making sure she registered it was him. Without warning he turned them sideways and placed her hand against his heart as he had when they had danced, the feel of his blunt fingers against hers dizzying and electrifying and safe. She opened her mouth to protest but before she could he kissed her. Grinned almost wolfishly when she pouted a dazed complaint but pulled him tighter against her chest. “The girl who doesn’t get fucked on the kitchen counter gets to take her time darlin’,” he muttered. He was trailing butterfly kisses along her jaw. “The girl who doesn’t get fucked on the kitchen counter gets to do this all night long…”

“And what if she wants it quick and dirty?”

His grin grew wider. “Then she just has to bide her time.” And he brushed one of her stripes out of her face, expression turning serious. He was staring down at her in a way she’d never seen him look at anyone else, not even Yuki or Jean. “Are we doing this, Marie?” he asked softly. “For real, this time? No ducking or hiding? Cos if you don’t want this-”

“Ah want this.” She ran the back of her hand along his jaw. “Ah just… Ah never thought you’d want me, is all. And Ah couldn’t bear losing you after a one night stand. But…” She took a deep breath. “But if you want me then Ah’m yours, just like Ah’ve always been.”

He kissed her, hot, wet and searing. Gentle and melting and sweet. “Well then darlin’,” he grinned, eyes darkening, “Let’s get this show on the fucking road-”

And he and Marie took it from there.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: SOME KIND OF WONDERFUL

“So what do you wanna do now, shuggs?”

And Marie bit her lip, staring at him from beneath her lashes. The feel of him hot and molten and wanted there between her thighs. From outside she could dimly make out the sound of the rain tapping on the roof above her, could hear people moving along the street towards the Rue Bourbon- But those things didn’t matter, now really. Because Logan was staring up at her, his hands tracing shapes on her back, her shoulder-blades, her hips. The feel of his big, warm hands over her clothes making her feel wet and hot and tight. His gaze riveted on hers, like he was trying to burn the image of her face- of this first time they were together- into his memory-

And Marie- though her inner badass might have never admitted it- felt her heart flutter slightly at the thought.

He reached one hand out to trace her face then, fingers cupping her cheekbone. Thumb gently brushing her lip, her tongue snaking out to tease and taste him, lips wrapping gently around the digit to suck. His eyes widened momentarily, mouth quirking into a smile, and without warning he pulled his thumb out, earning a disappointed pout which he grinned at. Painting a path down her throat and collar-bone with the wetness she’d slicked onto him. Marie moaned slightly, baring her throat and throwing her head back: He blew softly on his thumb’s wet trail in response, the sudden coolness of his breath making her belly flutter, her hips unconsciously rocking against his. She arched her back into him- “please, Logan, please,”- and immediately she felt his wet mouth close over her nipple, suckling through her shirt. Felt his hand ghost up her flesh beneath the fabric, thumb and forefinger squeezing tightly while his tongue teased her flesh.

“You want me naked, darlin’?” he was muttering, “Is that what you want Marie?”

He was rocking his hips into her- just a little- and she nodded.

“And what will you do to make that happen?-” he whispered, “What will you do fer me?”

“Anything, Logan,” she breathed, “Anything-”

“That’s what I thought.” His smile was somehow gentle and devilish. “Just like I’d do anything fer you.”

And suddenly he wasn’t on his back anymore but on his knees, pulling her against him. His arm wrapping possessively around her, every inch of his warm, hard body plastered against her own. Their faces were only inches apart, lashes so close they could touch one another and suddenly Marie couldn’t breath. “Will you dance with me?” he asked, almost hesitantly, like he really thought she might say no to him. Like even after she’d thrown herself at him and made a porn movie out of doing the washing up with him and she still might still go chasing after LeBeau. It was an uncertainty she’d never seen on him before and she reached out and took his face in her hands, laid her forehead against his. For the first time really letting herself believe that he wanted something from her that he hadn’t wanted from anyone else. That he’d wanted her all along. “Ah’ll dance with ya, Logan,” she was whispering, not sure why her throat suddenly felt a little tight. “Of course Ah will-”

And then, as if by magic, music starting drifting through the wall of the garage from the building next door. Something sixties and dreamy and honey-toned.

Logan pulled slowly her to her feet.

The music swelled then, flooding the garage with violins and harmonies and a beat you could dance to forever- A beat you made love to- The sound mixing with the dull, sweet tap of the rain above them and filling the entire room. His hands travelling up under her tee to trace her shoulder-blades, her belly. His quick, clever fingers easily unsnapping her bra and cupping her breasts, shirt pulled over her head. Bare skin prickled with anticipation as his palms roamed over her breasts, her sides, her mound and she shuddered, her skin going into overload. Their bodies rocking and swaying, unsure whether they were following the melody now or it was following them- But knowing that this song was theirs. Logan slowly dipped her, her leg instinctively coming up to wrap around his hip and steady herself as he slid one hand down to caress her ankle. Her fingers scratching his forearms as he buried his nose in the valley between her breasts before bringing her up to him and swaying her again. Unable to help herself any longer she reached up and pulled the wife-beater off him, tossing it before wrapping her arms more tightly around his body. The feel of his chest pressing against her bare breasts incredibly erotic, the need to have him fill her arms like he filled her heart making her body sing. “So beautiful,” he kept saying, “So fucking beautiful, darlin’-”

He lifted her clear off her feet to wrap her legs around him again as he said it, the rumble of his voice making her tingle all the way down to her clit.

“You’re-” she blushed, couldn’t believe she was about to say this, “You’re- You’re beautiful too shuggs-”

Jesus, she sounded like a fourteen year old girl.

He frowned. “Gambit’s the pretty boy-”

“Ah’m talking about you, not Remy, ya dumb-ass,” she growled. “And nobody disses mah old man, that clear?”

He had to smile. “Crystal.”

“Good. Now dance with me.”

“Always happy to oblige, Marie.”

And with that he leaned her back against the coolness of the wall, her legs instinctively tightening around his waist to hold him to her. Her hands stroking his mutton chops, mouth peppering butterfly kisses on his throat, his shoulders. His face. The playfulness, the hesitation stealing into something else now. The feeling that they’d reached a point of no return stealing through the space. In this position she was looking down at him and the sensation of being tall made her feel somehow more powerful, more tender. Made the urge to keep kissing him so uncontrollable she didn’t even try. She heard a hissed, “Marie-,” felt the heat and length of him pushing against her thigh as she rubbed against him. And then her back was tighter against the wall, his hands still cradling her. The cold at her back and the heat of him at her front raising goose-bumps on her skin. “You ready darlin’?” he whispered and all she could do was nod, too full of emotion to say anything. His belt sliding loose with a satisfying swish as she pulled it, his jeans and boxers puddling at his feet before he kicked them both away. At her whispered “please,” he began pushing slowly inside her, his prick stretching her, widening her. Filling her. Moving deeply, wetly inside of her, inch by delicious inch. Hands at her waist holding her safe and steady as he bit her lower lip and sucked it. As he made her squirm and moan. Making eye contact the entire time, whispering soft, hot things that made her feel dizzy and wanted, that made her toes curl and her blood practically sing. Marie began to move against him, making her body rise and fall, rise and fall, the movement winding her tighter. Her clit raking against his hip bone with every delicious down, her tits scraping against his chest with every explosive up. From here she could see every muscle in his perfect back ripple as he moved for her, could see the motion of his ass as he pushed into her again and again, the sight as hot as the sensation it provoked- And man but that made her wet. Logan was trying to keep control, trying to go slow but she didn’t want that. She wanted him- her Logan, her Wolverine- completely and not some phantom who wore his face. So she began whispering in his ear, telling him what she wanted him to do to her. Asking him to give himself to her completely, to let everything else go. With each delicious rise and sinful fall she felt him- the real him- come ever closer to the surface. Felt the man she’d dreamed about all this time put himself ever more fully into her hands. He was swallowing her moans now, matching them with his own as she rode him. His body bucking and clenching against her, this dance of theirs finally turning wild. There was a few hot seconds when everything hung in the balance and then- Marie felt her orgasm hit, surging through her like a hurricane. Felt it in her fingers and toes and hair almost, the experience leaving her limp and weak. Logan came a moment later, her whispers that she loved him the first thing he heard on the other side of it. The look in his eyes when he opened them to her showing her that the real him had been there at the end. For a moment they were both silent, breath coming in pants and then Logan laid his forehead on hers, breathing in deeply. Taking her hand to his mouth and gently kissing her palm, her fingers. Every inch he could touch of glistening, sated skin.

“I love you, you get that right?” he said after a moment. And he gave her that smile he’d given her in the kitchen, the one she’d never seen him throw to anyone else.

Turns out, that one was hers.

She nodded. “Ah love you too,” she whispered. “Ah think Ah always have done. Ah just never thought you’d want me-”

“Hush.” And he leaned down to brush his lips against hers, touching them lightly. She felt his cock, buried so deep inside her, begin to twitch with life. Oh mah. “I’ll want you til they bury me, darlin’, you got that?” he was telling her. “You go to heaven and I go to Hell and I’m staging a jailbreak to come looking for you.”

“Ain’t nowhere Ah’ll go without you, not even heaven,” she said. Grinning. “Though now Ah know what it’s like…Thanks to you… ”

And with a split second’s silence they both laughed out loud at her words, the sound echoing between them. The journey from her and Logan, Her Friend to her and Logan, Her One and Only finally, undeniably complete. Marie kissed him long and soft and sweet as she pulled him against her. The realisation that she got to have this with him enough to make her thank her skin for bringing them together all those years ago. By the time the sun rose there was a serious dent in that box of XXL condoms, and Logan had agreed that really he owed Remy a thank you for locking them both in here, and that Jubes was probably the one who’d come up with it but letting Remy think he blamed him would be more fun. But more than anything he’d accepted that he was the one Marie wanted, claws and all, and that it was Just. Fucking. Awesome. Cos Marie told him so. And cos he’s the best of the best at what he does, darlin’-

And what he does he only does with Marie.

They fell asleep grinning at each other.

And lo! It was finally accepted that the tricked-out sex cave Officially Fucking Rocked.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: BIG, BAD, HANDSOME MAN

“They grow up so fast.”

And Jubes grinned at Logan and Marie, who were staring deeply into one another’s eyes, not even talking. The fact that the wedding ceremony was due to begin in about fifteen minutes- Remy had donated the restaurant part of the bar for the gig- apparently making no impact on them at all. To her right she could see the Justice of the Peace grinning cheerfully, possibly wondering whether she was gonna get some repeat business. The fact that the couple in question might as well have been on the moon considering how much attention they were paying her not deterring her in the least. Jubes looked over to see Kitty give her sensei and her friend an Aaw! look, Pete and Yuki grinning indulgently. The remaining Logan’s Angels exchanged thumbs ups, practically bouncing with happiness-

Because this was possibly the best wedding present Kitty could have gotten, and Jubes knew that.

And because they were gonna have an absolute field day teasing the pair about all this just as soon as they got back to New York.

Jubes caught a whiff of cologne and tobacco then, the slightly sweet scent which always gave Remy away. He’d ghosted into place beside her, an unlit cigarette between his lips, the look he was throwing the newly-clued-in honeys unreadable. Not for the first time Jubes felt a twinge of something which she told herself was definitely not disappointment as she watched him watch Marie. After all, wasn’t the first time a gorgeous guy she really wouldn’t mind knowing better- let alone doing naughty things with- was hung up on her best friend. Inwardly she sighed: It was like Pyotr Rasputin and Bobby Drake all over again-

A long, slightly uncomfortable beat.

“Your plan worked out, hein?” he said then. Nodding to the happy pair, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. He stared at the tip for a second and it suddenly lit up, the trick making him grin. But there was an undercurrent of nervousness to the gesture, and whatever Jubes might have wanted to believe she was far too smart to ignore it.

“Yeah, well, I think they were goners for each other the moment they met,” she drawled instead. Because when in doubt, start speaking your native Smart Ass. “First time she saw him he was half nekkid and fighting in a cage. Don’t think anyone else stood a chance after that kinda entrance.”

Remy smirked. “Not even a charmer like mahself?”

“Nope, sorry dude.”

“That’s what Ah thought.” To her surprise his smile grew wider. “But Ah’m happy for the pair o’ them. Been watching Logan beat himself up over someone every time he came t’visit: Nice to know he’ll stick with assaulting sundry assholes from here on in-”

Jubes shot him an epically cynical look. “You really think this’ll make him less aggressive?”

“No, Ah think being able to have hot monkey sex with the girl he’s nuts about’ll do that.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Why the Hell you think he’s been so surly all these years anyway?”

“He’s Canadian,” she dead-panned. “They’re born that way.”

“Says the girl from New York.” Gambit shook his head in amusement at her protests. “He been pining, chere, is what it is,” he said. “That’s what happens when you finally get your head outta your ass and realise the person you want to right in front o’ you-”

And suddenly he looked away, clearing his throat. Eyes going back to Rogue.

Oh yeah, Jubes thought sadly. Baby boy’s got it bad.

Another long beat.

“So, uh, you wanna do something after the service?” Remy asked somewhat scratchily. He was still staring real hard at Marie and Logan, and Jubes fought the urge to thump him.

“No,” she said politely. “I have to head back to New York.”

“So you’re not sticking around?”

“And watch the double honeymoon? No thanks.” She told herself she didn’t sound pissed though of course she knew she did. He opened his mouth to say something and she spoke over him. Best get this over with. “Look, Remy, I’m glad that they’re together, and I’m sorry that you’re disappointed about Rogue, but please do me a favour and find some local girl to mend your broken heart with, okay?” She tried to make herself smirk but knew she couldn’t: Watching her entire family cosy up with Cupid wasn’t helping her sense of Zen and she really didn’t wanna think about why. “I get how I come off, and I get that you think I’ll be fine for a night’s distraction, but I’m so not interested-”

“You no want me?”

He was pouting and she fought the urge to thump him again.

“It’s not about whether I want you or not,” she growled, “it’s about the fact that I’m not a band-aid just cos Roguey’s with the Wolvster-”

His expression cleared. “Is that what you think? You think Ah want a distraction?”

“I think you thrive on distraction-”

His grin was wolfish. “And Ah think you think too much.”

And without warning he grabbed her and pulled her through the door to his right, grinning. Picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder when she protested, smacking her ass playfully when she started to swear- Though tellingly, it didn’t even occur to her to bring out the paffs. The Cajun hauled her down a corridor, past ladders and pots of paint (they were extending this part of the club) and into a tiny store-room. Kicking the door shut with one foot and then pressing her against the wall. It was dark in the room, only a dusty old bulb to illuminate everything and suddenly, for no reason she cared to fathom, Jubes couldn’t breath properly.

Remy pulled out a single card from his pocket- the Ace of Hearts- and lit it.

It burned moodily on the dull light.

“You wanna know why Ah let Logan beat me up?” he murmured huskily then. He was running his free hand delicately against her throat, making her quiver-

Not that Jubilation Lee ever did something as Goddamn girly as that.

“You said you felt responsible,” she muttered, tongue feeling thick in her mouth all of a sudden. “You said you wanted to make it right-”

“And Ah did. But Ah also wanted to make sure you no think badly o’ me, chere.” He looked into her eyes, real straight and serious. Suddenly Jubes’ knees clear forgot how to work. “Ah didn’t want you thinking Ah was a no good asshole-”

“I never thought that-”

“You must if you think Ah’d chase a woman as fine as you just cuz Ah’m disappointed about losing another.” And before she could retort he reached down and kissed her, his mouth wet and soft and just hot enough to turn her limbs to jelly. That full lower lip so invitingly there that Jubes had to suck it between her teeth and bite, making him moan a little into her mouth. “You listen to me, chere,” Remy was muttering between kisses, “And you listen good. You have the chance-” kiss- “to spend time with a fucking awesome woman-” kiss, kiss- “who you think is gorgeous and who clearly digs you-” kiss, kiss, kiss- “you take it, yeah?” A full-on, Scarlett-O’Hara-being-dipped super-smooch complete with tongue action. Nice. “Unless, of course, you’re a blind, hairy Canadian midget with anger control issues…” kiss, kiss, kiss- “But let’s not talk about him.”

And with that the talking portion of the afternoon finished.

And the making the walls rock portion commenced…

Although unfortunately, they didn’t quite realise how literal that was. Yet.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: ALL THE SINGLE LADIES

And Jubilation Lee frowned, pausing just as she ripped Remy’s shirt open. The feel of warm, hot flesh beneath her fingertips momentarily failing to distract her from the annoying-as-Hell humming sound to her right. The firecracker stopped a moment, head cocked, trying to discern where the sound was coming from-

And then Gambit smashed her back against the wall, his tongue slicking into her mouth as he kissed her, the feel of his body pressed against hers driving all rational thought from her mind. Jubes only had enough concentration to think Jeez, that sounds like it’s getting louder-

And then LeBeau popped her bra open using only one hand and she was lost to everything… Including the small pile of plaster dust that was forming under her feet…

Pete Parker frowned, looking around nervously for the source of that banging.

The fact that he was about to get hitched to the woman of his dreams making him more nervous than usual. After all, he was marrying an X-Man; Wedding crashing super-villainy was kinda par for the course. A goat-obsessed demon princess had gate-crashed Kurt and Storm’s wedding looking for Logan, the Brotherhood had been expelled from Beast’s wedding to Moira McTaggert by Captain Britain using a gallon of silly-string and some spoons. It was one of the reasons he and Kit had decided to elope in the first place, and also why he’d agreed to having Logan and Jubes along for the ride-

Because after all, if kickassry was immanent they were quite handy to have with you- No matter how much of a pain Jubilee could be at times.

Kit put her hand on his shoulder then, giving it a tiny squeeze and nodding silently towards the bar’s windows. Outside the sunny New Orleans day had suddenly turned dreary, the scent of electricity burning in the air. Rain was beginning to pound on the windows now, tourists scattering like so many pigeons and for some reason it made Pete nervous as Hell. But then, for an Avenger thunder and lightning never boded well: He’d lied through his teeth to his team about what the trip to New Orleans would entail and he really didn’t wanna deal with Stark, Romanov, Cage or Thor finding that out.

A beat.

“You know anything about this, honey?” Kitty murmured then, glancing nervously over at Logan, who was still whispering sweet nothings to Marie. They were - Good God, were they actually sharing as Eskimo kiss?-

For maybe the hundredth time this week Pete wished he were blind.

But he shook his head silently, squeezing the bridge of his nose. Telling himself that there was no way the person he thought was coming could be coming- No matter what the weather might say. “I didn’t tell anyone,” he muttered, “Didn’t even give a hint of it. Stark asked and asked but I told him I didn’t want a bachelor party-”

Kit gave him the I’m marrying a moron Look. He was well used to it: He’d been seeing it since he was fifteen. “That doesn’t mean that he’s gonna respect your wishes,” she muttered, “It’s not like Iron Man’s well known for doing that-”And as if to underline her point the heavens suddenly opened again. A flash of lightning splitting the sky, thunder rumbling in its wake. Pete and Kitty turned as one, shielding their eyes from its brightness-

And in that moment a streak of lightning hit Pete squarely in the chest and knocked him clear across the room. The shock of it enough to make even his nerves depart. His last conscious thought was, And the lightning is pink, why..?

Then there was only blackness and the sound of drunken singing, which couldn’t be a good sign…

And Remy forced himself to come up for air, the annoyingly rhythmic banging- which he was gonna assume was being caused by Jubes’ barely-covered cute little ass making steady contact with the barely-finished cute little wall behind them- seriously disturbing his sense of Zen. For a (very, very brief) second he considered going to investigate the cause of the disturbance, or even investigating if the wall he was pressing Jubes against was giving as much as he thought it was…. But then the firecracker launched herself at him again, fingers clawing at his back and- Jesus, was she growling? With all that happening there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in Hell of him going anywhere, let alone investigating the source of that disturbance-

And he certainly didn’t notice the way the wall was swaying at Jubes’ back…

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

A Chippendale was poking him.

A large, blond, familiar and apparently drunk Chippendale, who was (unfortunately) carrying an equally drunk, equally familiar, boisterously singing Tony Stark on his shoulders. And also wearing a tiara and what had once been a feather boa around his neck, its bright pink feather sparkling in the dim light. It took spotting the mighty hammer Mjolnir hanging by his side to remind Pete just who the Hell the Chippendale was however-

So that’s why the lightning had been pink, he thought groggily.

“Thor,” Parker managed to croak out then. “It’s good to see you-”

And he forced himself to stand, wincing slightly. Hoping for the sake of his health that his fellow Avenger didn’t decide to favour him with one of his world-famous, rib-crushing man-hugs- Since he didn’t think Kitty would appreciate her husband being in traction for their wedding night. No such luck however: the Asgardian picked him up in a bone-bending embrace, lifting his feet clear off the ground and swinging him around like a rag doll. It made Pete feel about three years old.

“It is good to see you too, my young friend!” the warrior boomed. “We have come to make merry, and toast your wedding. And of course, to find drunken bridesmaids, which Anthony has explained is the point of the ceremony!”

And he laughed boisterously, slapping Pete on the back so hard he was knocked sideways. Swinging a clearly loaded- and suspiciously angelic-looking- Tony Stark down to stand unsteadily beside him while he spun Pete round and round, the blonde’s grin making every woman in the place who wasn’t Kitty or Marie stare. Parker was only saved from Death By Bromance by Kitty pointedly clearing her throat and muttering, “Em, hello? Could we have an Avengers, Disassemble! Moment, please?” She gestured tartly to the Justice of the Peace and the witnesses. “Cos I kinda need him in one piece for the ceremony, boys-”

“Well what do we have here?” And Thor grinned, winking at Tony. Dropping Pete (yeah, dropping him) and stepping clear over his prone body to sweep the bride’s knuckles to his lips, all those years spent keeping his Kit away from the 6’5 Norse God at the office apparently for nought. Inwardly Parker growled, for the first time like, ever, wishing that he had muscles like Logan’s. But speaking of the short, hairy one-

“There a problem here, bub?” Logan muttered. Bless him. Glowering at the blond god who literally had three feet on him, waving the claws in his face. Suddenly Pete took back every mean thing he’d thought about the man this week, including the ones about having to let him lead, because right now that man was awesome on a stick and Pete didn’t care who knew it-

Not that he would, ever, EVER admit that sober in a million fucking years.

Thor grinned at Logan. “This is nothing you need concern yourself with, little man.” He waggled his eyebrows at Kitty. “I was merely conversing with the wench. ”

Logan grinned at Thor. “She ain’t a wench, bub.” He waggled his eyebrows at the blond. It was quite disturbing. “And she don’t look like she’s happy so why don’t you step away?” He crossed his massive arms across his massive chest, grinning in that way that always seemed to make Marie go weak at the knees. It was a measure of how anxious Pete was that he didn’t even feel a smidgeon of righteously manly disgust at the sight.

Thor loomed over Logan. “Oh,” he grinned, “and if she’s not a wench then what is she?”

“The bride,” Kitty growled, “I’m the bride, and you’re leaving-”

“I think not,” he spoke over her, “Not until you find me these promised drunken bridesmaids-”

And without a moment’s hesitation the Asgardian reached down and smacked Kit soundly on the ass. Grinning. As if she kept her supply of drunken bridesmaids in there.

Dead man walking, Pete thought then. And the poor bastard don’t even know it.

For a moment silence reined, the sheer stupidity of the action robbing even Tony Stark of speech. The fact that doing something that stupid to Kitty I can kill you with my pinkie Pryde was suicidal apparently of no importance to Thor. The blond grinned at Logan and Pete, his drunkenness (and Stark’s ever-helpful influence) making him way more of an asshole than he usually was, his mischievous little grin now making its way over towards Marie. His gaze raking over her, fit to make even Pete’s blood boil. The deeply disinterested look she shot him only making the blond grin more. Logan stiffened at it and the Asgardian’s grin widened, the desire to needle the only other massive testosterone donor in the room making him foolish-

And then without a moment’s hesitation Kit kicked him soundly in the balls, reaching down and yanking the hammer Mjolnir out of his grasp. Smacking him soundly across the head with it, Rogue darting into place beside her and swinging Thor’s legs out from under him and smashing her elbow into his nose. For a beat he was still and then- Thor grinned, letting out a string of impressively loud Nordic curse words before forcing himself to his feet and grasping for his hammer. The light of battle in his eyes as he went to swat Marie on the ass even as he reached for Mjolnir again. His eyes went almost comically wide as Kit swung it out of his reach once more and tossed it to Marie, taking the opportunity to kick him soundly in the crotch again. The massive man launching himself at Rogue now, clicking his fingers at the damn thing as if trying to summon a dog, muttering that he couldn’t understand why it wouldn’t come back to him. “Mine!” he kept muttering, “It is mine, it was given to me by Odin-”

“Well,” Rogue sniffed, “It was given to me by Kitty so you ain’t getting it back, bub.” And she swung the hammer around, knocking him soundly across the jaw (again) with a heavy, ga-dunk! Sound. Logan’s snickers echoing through the room, his proud mutter of “That’s my girl,” making the Southern belle blush even as she swung it again. She and Kitty began tag-teaming the Asgardian, darting gracefully out of his way, swinging the hammer around like it was light as air. The dementedly gleeful look on her face at being able to wield it giving Stark and Thor pause. Back and forward they went lik some demented tango, Pete’s offers to intervene stopped by Logan with a grin and a muttered, “You gotta let the girls play.” The sound of battle filled the hall, the combatants crashing into furniture with such gay abandon that Pete knew Remy was gonna be pissed- If he survived the Act of Jubilee he suspected was going on in a cleaning closet somewhere to their right. The fact that there was an low-down, old-fashioned bar-brawl going on at a wedding apparently not bothering the justice of the peace or the bar staff at all. Pete flinched as furniture was thrown everywhere, guilt that he hadn’t managed to keep the two well-meaning but drunk and horny Avengers away from his wedding eating into him and then-

Then-

Suddenly Kit was beside him, her hand on the Justice of the Peace’s elbow. Ducking down to avoid- Jeez, did Marie have to bite the entire ear-lobe off?- surrounding conflict and shooting him a grin. “Now it’s an X-Man wedding, honey,” she whispered to him, just as she heard Logan join Marie in the fight with a delighted shout of “Whatever you bite you keep!” and then another of, “You show him what you think of blondes, darlin’!” Kit‘s smile widened. “And at least,” she continued reasonably, “It’s not the Brotherhood or the government who‘s gate-crashing-”

“Then you’re not mad?” he muttered.

“No, it’s more… real now.” And she grinned, suddenly looking like an angel. His angel. In that moment Pete couldn’t imagine seeing her as anyone else despite the fact that she’d just kicked the shit out of the God of thunder and done it with a smile on her face. Apparently the Justice of the Peace agreed because she smiled and ducked down to avoid a piece of flying masonry. Her expression mischievous, the book she’d been using to read the ceremony clasped in her hands. “Would you two like the short version of the wedding ceremony?” she asked, eyes dancing.

Pete and Kit’s eyes met. “Hell yeah,” they both said at the same time.

“Fine then.” She nodded to Kitty. “Do you, chere?”

“I do.”

She nodded to Pete. “Do you?”

He couldn’t stop smiling. “I do.”

“Then kiss, cuddle, and get the fuck outta Dodge cos Ah think this is about to turn ugly, darlin’-”

At which point there was an almighty crack and suddenly a very naked Jubilation Lee and Remy LeBeau landed in the middle of the ceremony, knocking Thor, Logan and Kitty flying even as the wall they’d been screwing against collapsed in a shower of dust. Remy LeBeau’s naked ass ending up way too close to Tony Stark for anybody’s comfort. For a second everything was silent, the over-protective big brother in Logan about to go into over-drive and then Pete heard it-

“Told you it was a proper X-Man wedding now,” Kit said. “Ain’t that right, Logan?”

And without another word she kissed him and they were-

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

EPILOGUE: (I’VE HAD) THE TIME OF MY LIFE

“How the Hell does he do it?”

And Pete glanced across at a nodding, righteously pouting Remy and a barely conscious Tony Stark.

“I mean seriously, what does he have that we don’t?”

And the three men threw a dark look at Thor, who was currently getting his Asgard groove on in the middle of Remy’s club. The fact that Marie, Jubes and the newly married Katherine Parker-Pryde were shaking their bootie along with him clearly not helping either man’s sense of Zen. Logan snickered to himself: The X-girls were dancing in a circle around their purses and the mighty hammer Mjolnir (or as Jubes was now calling it, Meow-Meow), complimenting Thor on his dance moves and sympathising with him over being recently dumped. Also explaining how it didn’t matter that there were no drunken bridesmaids at Kitty’s wedding because he was sure to score in a bar in the middle of New Orleans. (Jubes exact words on the subject: “This place fish-filled barrel, you massive, well-proportioned fishing pole. Now score grass-hopper, score!”) Despite himself the feral’s smile widened: It was actually kinda funny, the way Thor was nodding earnestly and taking all their advice in stride- Though Logan couldn’t help but suspect that the little boy lost act was at least partially an attempt to get somewhere with Marie or Jubes.

And if Thor thought that routine was going to get him anywhere with those girls he was seriously damn mistaken.

The thought alone was enough to put a massive smile on his already grinning face.

“You look like an idiot,” he heard Yuki say then.

Logan didn’t even glance at her. “Yeah well,” he said airily, “You had a mighty fine woman like that thinking she’s nuts about you, you’d be grinning like an idiot too, Yukiko.” He slid over to give her a place to sit. “So how’s about you sit down, shut up and enjoy the show? Yeah, darlin’?” And he took another, longer sip of his beer.

“I think I will.” Yuki clinked her Molson against his. “Just make sure and tell her that, okay? I didn’t go to all this trouble to have you screw this u-”

Logan turned to her so fast the movement was almost invisible, and Yuki found herself lamenting the fact that reflexes that good were being wasted on a life free of crime. “I ain’t gonna screw this up, darlin’,” he said tightly. She was surprised by the vehemence in his tone, but she supposed she shouldn’t have been- After all, what Logan and Marie shared wasn’t so much mutual affection as mutual brain-damage and all of New Orleans knew that now. “I get it, okay?” he was muttering. “I got lucky, massively fucking lucky. And I’m gonna spend every day making sure Marie sees it that way too- If she’ll let me.” He sat back, nodded to himself. “Which I’m really hoping she will.” His grin became mischievous. “Besides, wouldn’t you want to keep someone that gorgeous happy?”

And he nodded to Rogue, who was still busy dancing. The sight of her making his normally harsh features soften into a smile. Tony, Pete and Gambit saw it and began catcalling, whistling about the mighty Wolverine finally being on a leash. The unamused look Jubes and Kitty shot them not slowing them down in the least. From the corner of his eye Logan saw Thor grin, clearly thinking of joining in with them-

So before anyone could say anything else in their native Dumb-Ass he stood up and walked over to Rogue, hand held out to her. His grin widening as she put her hand in his, Thor and his Mighty Big Hammer‘ instantly forgotten. He nodded to the DJ and the obnoxiously loud dance track began fading out, another song entirely taking its place. Something honey-toned and sweet and straight from the sex garage. Something with the kinda beat that would always remind him of Marie. Kitty grinned as she recognised the tune and with a small apologetic wave to Thor she walked over to Pete, hand held out to him. Wrapping her arms around his neck for a kiss when he took it, burying her dark head in his shoulder and grinning fit to beat the band. Jubes rolled her eyes dramatically at the sight but held her hand out to LeBeau all the same, the difference in their heights meaning that she had to stand on his toes to dance with him and still be able to put her arms around his neck. A tiny (but noticed) pinch to his ass apparently warning him to keep jokes about her height to himself. Logan grinned at them (Why the Hell was he smiling so much these days?) his smile widening when he saw Yuki hold her hand out to Thor. But rather than keep his attention on that, the feral wrapped his arms around Marie, letting the scent of her permeate the air around him. The feeling of her moulded against him as calming now as it had been the first time they danced. The music washed over them, the scent of so much happiness not something he thought he could ever get used to-

And when he opened his eyes Marie was smiling at him.

Her hand had also dropped down to get a wonderfully firm grip on his ass.

This, Logan decided, was officially the best road trip of his life.

“So you finally decided to dance with me, shuggs?” she murmured throatily then. One look at her mischievous expression enough to convince Logan that she knew damn well what the accent did to him.

“Darlin’, I’ve wanted to dance with you fer years.” He pulled her closer. “So play your cards right and I’ll be dancing with you fer the rest of my life-”

“Oh, and what if Ah don’t wanna spend mah life dancing?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Whatcha gonna do then?”

He leaned down to her, his mouth an inch from hers. Making sure to pour every inch of machismo he possessed into his gaze. She actually gulped at the sight of it. “Marie,” he muttered, “You listen and listen good. I learned to stay in one place fer you. I learned to deal with kids and geeks and all sorts o’ government assholes- fer you. Hell, I even learned to dance fer you-” Her eyes widened at the realisation and he tightened his grip on her waist. “So don’t tell me there’s anything I can’t do fer you, okay Kid?” His grin grew predatory. “Cos that sorta bull just ain’t gonna fly anymore.”

And with that he dipped her, right on time and just the right depth to keep her from falling over. The feeling of her hands tightening on his bicep reassuringly hot. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Pete give him a pleased thumbs up but he ignored it, mainly because he was kissing her and that just took up all of his attention no matter what the situation might be. They kissed and Marie gave a little growl deep in her chest, her grip on his ass tightening even as the fingers of her other hand raked through his hair. The feel of her mouth against his warm and hot and inviting, the sorta thing he never wanted to be without again. The music got louder, bodies bumped into them. The tune changed somewhere along the way but Logan couldn’t give a flying fuck. Because he was here, and he was with Marie, and she loved him. And the fact was, it didn’t get any better than this-