When I get a thought in my head, it's damn near impossible to throw me off track. So I'm sure I don't have to elaborate why it was so imperative for me to get back to New York as soon as I could. I left around three-thirty in the morning, was pleased when the bastard at the front desk of the motel cowered when I went to return the key.

I've been driving all night now, and it's nearly twelve noon, I think, even though I haven't really been keeping track. I only stopped when I had to, and that was to get gas a few times and take a piss once or twice. The latter wasn't so much of a problem, but having to stop for gas every couple of hours still really annoys the fuck out of me. I could have cut a good half hour off the driving time if I hadn't needed to stop. Either way, I could tell I was about a mile or so away from the mansion because, despite the time I've been away, nothing much has changed. I had figured that Xavier would have moved the place to a more disclosed location after the attacks and all, but I guess good old Cyke played super hero and had convinced him that he'd be able to handle things from then on. Not that I'd blame him for wanting to keep a closer watch on the place. If it weren't for those attacks two years ago, Jeannie would still be alive and those two probably would be married and popping out babies right now. Poor kid. I guess I'll have to be nicer to him from now on.

The Professor knows I'm there, because I feel his voice reverberating in my adamantium skull the second I cruise into the driveway. I park on the sidewalk that leads up to a short set of cracked brick stairs and to the front door, and the Professor doesn't like it one bit because I'm blocking the way if anyone needs to get through. I respect him too much to mentally flip him the bird, but he should know that right now, I'm not worried about anything that doesn't involve Marie.

Ororo meets me at the door and tells me the same thing that Xavier was still mentally berating me for and I brush her because I can smell Marie and my animal instincts have started to kick in and I need her right now because, Oh God, I just want to taste her. How about that? I guess that shows how much Marie's changed me because I don't even stop and admire 'Ro's gorgeous rack because I'm so intent on getting my hands on her. Of course, I put my hands on her the traditional way, but I've been considering the dynamics of it all because when you're making an eight hour drive on no sleep, you've got to have stuff on your mind to keep you awake. Anyway, I had lots of ideas to get around the whole no-touching thing and damn it, her scent is still curling up in my nostrils and it erases any and all thought from my head. I follow her fresh trail back to what must have been her room because the whole hallway smells like her and my ears twitch when I hear voices behind the door. Giggling... that's what it was. Is she still rooming with that little mall rat Jubilee? That kid was a trip, really. I'd caught her more often than not staring at my ass and looking really pleased when she did it. Then, fuck, that... stench hits me and I smell sex and I can hear a voice that's unquestionably masculine.

I instantaneously pop my claws. No fucking way am I going to stand by and allow some little pervert drool all over my Marie. I was about to break the door down when my old friend Cyclops catches me by the arms and pulls me backward, almost through the wall behind us. Even with the racked that made, I can hear that Marie and her little love toy hadn't taken any notice. At first I fight him, but because I still feel horribly about what had happened with Jean, I let him pin me and decide to hear what he's got to say.

"Logan, things have changed." He wasn't doing a very successful job at calming me down. "You can't have expected her to wait for you to come back."

"Spare me your bullshit and tell me why I can't go in there and cut off that guy's dick." I punctuated my words with a feral growl. Then the door I'd been close to breaking down opened and Marie was standing there, wrapped in a sheet and I actually pity old Cyclops because he's still on top of me, pressing my shoulders down to preclude any attack I might launch on anyone that comes up behind her, and I know he feels my erection surge up and press against his stomach. Then fuck, I knew some little bastard would come up behind her, and after he does, he kisses her bare shoulder, which means that she's finally controlled her power, and the look he gave me had me fighting at Scott again because all I want to do is get up and sever the little punk's throat. Marie falls to her knees beside me and One-Eye and I get a fairly good look down the front of sheet when she does. She wraps me in a hug and after giving me a look of warning, Cyclops stands up and walks off, probably figuring I'm pretty harmless now because I've sheathed my claws and I'm paying more attention to a half-naked Marie than I am the little shift standing in the door frame.

Marie helps me to my feet and kisses her friend goodbye, who seems perfectly content walking back to his room in his underwear, which he must have put on when I was too preoccupied with Marie's breasts and bare skin pressing up against me to take note of what he had been doing. She invites me in and exchanges her sheet for a bathrobe, but she hides most of herself so all I get to see are the smooth contours of her bare back. She knots the sash at her hips, and the robe parts, giving me an all-too-perfect view of her cleavage and those long, slim legs.

"Where have you been?" Marie wants to know.

"South." It's the truth.

"Why come back now?" I tell her about my epiphany, selectively neglecting to mention the part about Joanne and the motel room incident from the early hours of thi morning.

"Logan, I..." I know she has no idea what to say. She's not going to fall so easily into my arms. She's a woman now. Her life's no longer dictated by silly little crushes. Christ, she's become one of them. Women are a force to be reckoned with, and I know Marie's aware now that she has the ability to wrap me around her little finger.

"Who was that piece of trash?" If she won't talk, I will. "And for that matter, what the hell were you two doing in here naked?" I know the answer, but hearing it from her will help me justify killing that guy. She's pissed at the questions though, and I know it. She must have gotten the quality from me when she absorbed my powers. I'll admit it. I'm a fucking mean bastard. Too terrible she hadn't picked up one of my better qualities, like… a vast appreciation for lots of naked fun. Oh, wait. She did get that trait. Only, it seemed she was practicing it on Mr. Bedsheet.

"That's Remy LeBeau, and I'd like it very much if you'd refrain from calling my boyfriend trash. As for the naked part..." Her smirk was cool and aimed to knock me straight in the balls. "He was only demonstrating all the things I've missed out on because of my power. Now that I've got it under control, he only wants to show me all of the fun I can have with normal skin." I snarl and she's thoroughly pleased. "What did you expect, Logan? You think I'd wait around 'til you came back just so I could watch you got after some other girl?" Ouch. Jean had been a purely sexual conquest. Besides, what could I have done? She was underage the last time I saw her. I could have been arrested. Not that anyone could successfully contain me, but I didn't want something like that on my conscience, even if it was Marie.

"Damn it, Marie, I came back to tell you that I love you." Ah, Jesus. Now I'd gone and offered her my dignity and my ego on a big silver platter. I see her face twitch, and I think she's about to cry. No, there were no tears. Must have been an eyelash. Actually, her face has started to grow stonier.

I know what she's going to say. "You're too late, Logan." See? It wasn't a miscalculation. I know Marie as well as she knows me and I didn't have to suck out her memories to do it. She asks me to leave. I don't want to because I want to be here with her. Can't she see? She loves me. I know she does. We're meant for each other, me and her. We've always been Logan and Marie, never two separate people. I stay perfectly still, as if the weight of my metal skeleton has me made me unable to move. She asks me to leave again and somehow I find myself picking up one heavy foot and then another. It's okay, though. I've got business to attend to. I've got to find that Remy LeBeau character and give him a nice long talking to. So what if one of my claws accidentally slips and he gets impaled? They can't blame me for something like that if it's so obviously not my fault. I know what Marie's really trying to do with him, too. She's trying to make me suffer, because she had to when I was off trying to sweet talk Jean's pants off. Turnabout is fair play. So okay, I'll let her play like that. After all, I know what she really wants. I mean, if she really didn't want me, would she really have slid open her robe a little, trying to make it look all inconspicuous? She wasn't trying to show me what I can't have because she wants me to take her. She just wants it to happen on her time. She's playing a game. And it's a dirty little game that I don't have any intentions of losing.

I go down to meet with the Professor to see if I can arrange a room for me to stay in, devilishly plotting my next move. I play naughty. Naughtier than Marie can even begin to fathom. I'll maul her little Remy, and then I'll prowl. Marie's my prey and I always get what I hunt.