He was sitting on a barstool and throwing back shots with Marie when it suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. He had no idea who that gorgeous, funny brunette sitting next to him was.

Mere five years ago he had known her. His cherished connection to humanity, bridge that crossed the gap between him and life. Cure and his own selfishness had broken that bridge. They had built it again from the ruins, brick by brick. Now it looked like they had held blueprints backwards, that bridge had never quite reached his shore. It was a disturbing thought.

***

“How have you been?” He had just returned. He had spent past month tracking down one particularly elusive mutant for Xavier, and when he had gotten back, Marie had been glued from the hip with latest addition to Professor’s merry bunch. He had briefly wondered if there even was an individual in their little commune she hadn’t bedded yet. But in the end it wasn’t his problem.

“Just peachy. You?” She asked, twirling empty shot glass between her palms.

“Cold and bored, but it got better when I got back.” She shot him a mischievous glance.

“You cold and bored? Right. Tell me another one…”

“How else could I have been without my girl beside me?” He asked smirking, but that smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You’re an awful tease!” She laughed, slapped him on the shoulder, and turned to order another drink. He couldn’t help wondering how much of all that bravado was really hers and how big part of it had rubbed off from him.


“So… Who’s the new kid?” He asked. They were now seated to a secluded booth at the far end of the bar. Dim lights and heavy make-up couldn’t hide the blush creeping to her cheeks.

“Warren. He’s a nice guy. Came in couple of days ago.”

“Couple of days? You move fast,” he said unthinkingly. She flinched, but met his gaze.

“Speak for yourself. My track record is nowhere near yours.”

“Fuck you, kid. I wasn’t aware we had some sort of peeing contest going on.” He felt little uneasy. His careless comment had turned this conversation to wrong direction, but he couldn’t back off any more than she could. “And my track record isn’t something I’m exactly proud of, or comfortable enough to speak about. But what the hell? Since you brought it up… Last time I had sex was about forty-eight hours ago. Don’t know who she was. Took her on my bike. Reasonably enjoyable fuck. Have had better, have had worse.”

“And you really think I run around, fucking every living, breathing male in striking distance? Please. I’m not that desperate,” she snapped.

“Desperate enough to plow through every legal man in the team.”

“At least they were legal.” His face went blank upon her words.

“Do you have any idea how much I regret what happened back then?” He croaked with a thick voice, stood up stiffly and walked out. Sat on his bike and revved the engine for good measure before driving off.

***

At least he knew now she was a mean drunk. It had been a lot like looking to a mirror. Well, he didn’t have anyone else to blame but himself. He could have stopped her. As soon as he had realized that she wasn’t awake he should have stopped her. Had he been a bigger person, he would have done it. He would have woken her up. They would have gone to Professor, and things would have been cleared up before anything happened. But no, it wasn’t the way he handled things. Not even close.


“I have this fucking urge to screw up everything. Just to see how bad things can get. To try how much is enough. And now the worst screw-up came and bit off my balls.”

“I really do hope only figuratively speaking,” Professor’s dry pun made him snort.

“I don’t know her anymore. After tonight I’m not even sure if I want to learn to know her again. Maybe she’s better off without me. Maybe I should have just left when it happened.”

“Past is past, Logan. I haven’t forgotten nor forgiven, but it happened, and we all got over it. You both dealt with it the best of your abilities. Is it really a shock to you? The way she chose to live her life?”

“I guess not. Has she ever spoken about it with you?” Logan asked, lighting a cigar.

“She came to me once, and we spoke. I’m not in the position to reveal any details of that conversation to anybody. You should know better than to ask.”

“I just wanted to know if she got help. After all, I took advantage of her.”

“We talked. I wasn’t able to help her with her dilemma, but it seems to me she solved it on her own…” Logan stood up, still puffing his cigar and turned to leave. “Logan?” Professor called him when he reached the doorknob.

“I know. No smoking indoors. Sorry.”

“No. I just wanted to tell you… She doesn’t blame you.”

***

She didn’t understand what had made her threw that to his face. She hadn’t even thought about the whole incident in years. Now it all came rushing back. Her own naivety and blindness. She wondered how she could have been unable to see the signs. His reluctance to spend time with her had suddenly increased tenfold when she had gotten the cure. When he actually managed to muster nerve enough to face her he had always been tense and jittery. Not all there. Like he wanted to get away from her. Like he had something to hide from her.

“Why the fuck didn’t he wake me up before it was too late?”


Suddenly noisy and crowded bar around her became too much to bare. Too loud music. Too many people brushing against her. Too much liquor. Too much smoke. Too thick walls too close each other. She stood up and ran, bumping against people, trying to skirt past stools and sea of customers that were blocking her way. She failed miserably, tripping over and hitting her head to a corner of a pool table. Brief flash of white and hot, then darkness fell over her.

***

When she woke up she was propped against something warm and solid. One hand anchored her in place from waist. Other hand was pressing something cold against her temple.

“Don’t move. You hit your head pretty bad.” Familiar, gruff voice. Slight movement when he inhaled and exhaled, and cloud of cigar smoke wafted over her head. There was a table in front of her. Deck of cards lay on it. Game of solitaire. Hand let go of her waist and moved some cards, then returned to hold her. Another inhale, exhale and another spiral of grey smoke. Something wet was dripping from the side of her head, pooling to the crook of her neck. Blood? She lifted her fingers. Wetness seeped through her gloves, and it was cold. She brought her hand in front of her face. Wet patch on white glove. No red. “Stop fussing. Its just ice.” Another puff of smoke. Few more moves to his game.

“I didn’t know you could play solitaire.” She whispered just to hear her own voice.

“Neither did I.”

“How did you know what happened?” She asked. She distinctly remembered him leaving earlier.

“He called me.” Now she noticed the bartender, mopping up the floor. Place was already closed.

“Where did you go?” She asked.

“Home. Talked with Chuck.” Puff, cards moving. “Told me you weren’t blaming me.” He really didn’t know how to play, but she restrained from giving him an advice. Solitaire was solitaire. “Sure didn’t sound like that earlier.” Logan continued his speech. Bartender slid past them. “Why the fuck this has to be so difficult?” Logan suddenly huffed, and she knew that he wasn’t talking about the game. And that was a question to which he expected an answer.

“I don’t know. I have been thinking about it myself. By the way…” She reached her hand and moved a card from a pile to another. “There. Now you can start building on top of that.” She half expected strict command to keep hands inside the vehicle.

“Thanks. Didn’t see that,” Logan said instead.

***

She was in her room, nursing a partial hangover and possible concussion, under strict command to stay in bed rest of the day. Logan had given her number to his cell phone.

“If you need anything, just call, and I’ll bring it to you.”

Just an hour ago she had seen Blackbird taking off. Most likely Logan had blasted off with Scott and the rest of the team to rescue the world again. He probably wouldn’t be coming back to bring her some ice cream from the kitchen. She grimaced. After last night it was a small wonder he had even bothered to retrieve her from that bar. She had thought that she’d managed to get over past events, but it was quite clear that they still bothered her at some level.

“And it wasn’t like I didn’t want him…”

She had wanted him. More than anything else she had wanted to be his in every possible way. She had been just a kid, head stuffed to the brim with knowledge about good and bad in life; experience from Eric and Logan both. She had wanted to belong to Logan then. After what happened she had spent months in confusion. Slowly that need and desire had died. After what happened last night she could feel tiny sparkle of it flaring back to life again. She nearly panicked and stifled that feeling.

“He doesn’t want me anymore. Why would he? I’m just a mean slut. Nothing like those barflies he fucks on his bike…” That bitter thought didn’t prevent her succumbing to a rather steamy daydream, and when her fingers brushed the sensitive bud between her slick folds, sending her over the edge, his name spilled from her lips.


Little exercise spiced with fantasy worked wonders to her condition. She felt good enough to get up and slip on a bathrobe.

“And now some of that ice cream…”

***

“Didn’t I tell you to call if you needed anything?” She screamed and dropped the tub of vanilla ice cream she was holding before it registered that she knew the owner of that voice.

“I thought you left,” she said, kneeling to pick up her frozen treat from the floor. Luckily the lid had been closed. “And I felt already better, so I thought I could risk a quick run in here for this,” she continued and took out a large spoon.

“Right. I can smell you’re better. But concussion is not something to play with. Back to bed it is,” Logan snorted and scooped her to his arms before she had the chance to protest.


He could smell her arousal, as thick and creamy as he remembered. He had to stop and close his eyes for a second to clear his head. It wouldn’t do to throw her down and ravish her. Last night she had made it pretty clear what she thought about him. It wasn’t much. Next to nothing. Better just to carry her back to bed and leave her there with her ice cream. Better for both of them. He would stick around long enough for her to recover from her little tumble with the pool table. After that he would leave, like he should have done years ago. He climbed the stairs to the second floor. Pushed the door to her room open with his knee. And then she spoke.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Did that knock on your head give you some new abilities? Little mind reading, perhaps?” He asked, feet frozen to her doorstep.

“No. But I know you. I was a mean bitch last night. You were planning to leave, weren’t you?” He walked in with stiff legs and lowered her to bed. Pulled a comfortable looking wicker chair from the corner and sat on it, rubbing his face with his palms tiredly.

“I am going to leave. I can’t keep going like this. I can’t keep pretending that nothing’s wrong.”

“If you’re leaving, I’m coming with you. You’re the only reason I stayed here after I graduated.”

“Marie… Don’t fucking lie to me. We may be no longer friends, but at least have the decency to be honest. We weren’t always this way,” Logan growled.

“Can you smell a lie on me?” She asked.

“Right now all I can smell is how wet and horny you are. Warren’s not doing his job?” For some reason she rattled his nerves constantly.

“Nobody’s doing any jobs for me. Nobody but you has been doing me. Ever. You really thought I would settle for less when I had gotten a taste of you?”

“Sure could have fooled me…” Logan muttered disbelief evident on his face.

“What happened happened. Both of us did some poor choices. Can we agree that we are both sorry, and want to get over it?” She asked. Logan nodded. “Good. Stop brooding and come and give me a hug. I still have this horrible headache, and I have a feeling that cuddling with you might be the best medicine for that.”


He found it impossible not to obey. He kicked off his boots and hovered little awkwardly next to her bed, until she got tired of waiting, and grabbed his belt, tugging him down. He lay next to her.

“Move your hand a little… That’s better…” She sighed, her body plastered against his side, head on his chest. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. She guided them around her. New sigh. “Perfect.” Sound of his heart and warmth of his body lulled her soon to sleep.

***

When she woke up he was gone.

***

He had hidden his tracks so well that it took her three months to find him. Three long and exhausting months, going through every acquaintance of his, every bar and motel she knew he had ever visited. She found him from the last possible place she knew to look; that dingy bar in Laughlin city where she first met him all those years ago.

***

He nearly choked on his beer, when warm breath tickled his ear.

“I told you I was coming with you…” She whispered, hands curling around him from behind. He had been sitting in here for hours, downing beer after beer, trying to ignore dirty glances that bartender kept shooting at his direction. Noise from the surrounding crowd and stench of the burning oil had nearly drowned the memory of her scent and sound of her breathing. Nearly. Now she was there; her breasts rubbing against his back and her hands caressing his tense muscles through his jacket.

“What the fuck do you want from me, Marie?” He nearly sobbed.

“I want you to keep your promise. You told me you would be there when I was ready. I’m wide-awake and ready, Logan…”

***

He took his bike; she drove the SUV and followed him to the motel. He had booked himself a room earlier. She had just enough time to step out of the car and then he was all over her, his hands diving under her clothes and his mouth claiming hers almost desperately. He resisted the power of her mutation nearly half a minute before his knees gave up and he collapsed, his body heavy, crushing her against the side of the car.

“This would feel much better if you were conscious…” She gasped, trying to control the turmoil of his feelings and emotions that now were coursing through her mind.

“Sorry… Can’t carry you over the threshold, darling… Could you help me up?” Logan groaned, struggling to get back on his feet.

***

“You’re in an awful hurry…” Logan murmured. She had half dragged him in to his room and pushed him on to the bed, and now she was opening his belt buckle.

“You promised me this five years ago. I have waited all those years like a good little girl. I’m not waiting anymore…”

“Good little girl?” Logan grasped her hands to his own. “I don’t want a little girl. I want you, Marie,” he growled, pulling her next to him. “And we have to wait. At least couple of hours. Have to get all parts of me back in working order…”