It happened by accident. That was what she always said, years later, when asked about how she learned she could control her power. And then she'd smile like the cat that ate the canary.

She'd just come from an afternoon session with the Professor. She was mentally fatigued, but also strangely revved up. She barreled into Jubilee's room, looking for something to take her mind off the fact that it was Friday and once it got dark, she would, once again, be home alone and dateless, while everyone else in the mansion was out getting laid.

Jubes sat on her bed, hairbrush in hand, a moue of distaste on her face as she eyed her new hairstyle in the mirror.

Rogue wasn't watching where she was going, and tripped over the pair of high-heeled shoes Jubes had left in the middle of the floor. She wondered absently how Jubilee could afford the three hundred dollar Manolo Blahniks, but the thought was gone quickly as she went sprawling into her friend, knocking her back against the pillows. In their confusion, Rogue's bare midriff came into contact with Jubilee's.

Nothing happened.

Rogue, caution ingrained after one or two careless incidents left her with unwelcome guests in her head, would have rolled off her friend immediately, but Jubilee stopped her.

"Rogue, chica, you can control it!" the Asian woman squealed, hugged her tightly.

Rogue blinked. "Oh, my God! Jubilee!" She raised herself up on her elbows and looked down at where their bellies met, her skin pale as a ghost against Jubilee's darker olive. "We're touching!" she shrieked, squirming a little at the smooth feel of the woman beneath her. It had been almost ten years since she'd touched another human being skin-to-skin without adverse effects, and more than six since she'd touched anyone at all.

Jubilee, not known for being shy, wrapped one leg around Rogue's thighs and grabbed her ass.

Rogue's eyes widened. "Jubes?" she said softly.

"We should celebrate, don't you think?" Jubilee asked. Without waiting for an answer, she raised her head slightly, bringing her lips into contact with her friend's. It was the lightest of kisses, and Jubilee stared into Rogue's eyes, taking her cue to deepen the kiss when the brown lashes fluttered closed. Rogue made a soft, throaty grunt, and Jubilee smiled against her mouth.

She licked gently at Rogue's full lips, and Rogue granted her the access she sought. One hand slid through the chestnut and platinum silk of Rogue's hair while the other worked its way up underneath the t-shirt she wore.

Rogue moaned again, her body on fire with sensations she'd only felt through others' memories and her own hands on her body. She broke the kiss and dragged her lips across Jubilee's jawline, up to her ear, where she nipped at the enticing lobe.

Jubilee's hands continued their journey up Rogue's back, marveling at the soft feel of all that deadly skin under her hands, skin that was no longer harmful to the touch. With a well-executed maneuver, Jubilee rolled them over.

"Let me do this for you," she murmured, grabbing the hem of Rogue's shirt and tugging it up. Rogue obediently lifted her arms, allowing the other woman to remove the unnecessary, and interfering, clothing. Then Jubilee unhooked the blue satin bra Rogue wore, freeing her soft, full breasts.

Rogue blushed as Jubilee looked at her hungrily. "You're gorgeous, chica," she breathed, kneading one ripe mound with a hand as she returned to kissing Rogue's swollen lips. As Rogue's nipple pebbled under her palm, Jubilee moved her hand to the other breast and her lips to the already-taut bud. She blew softly, grinning at the gasp that elicited, and licked the rosy aureole before pulling the nipple into her mouth and gently sucking.

Rogue arched into the caress, moaning, her body not used to so much sensation at once. She ran her hands through Jubilee's short hair, willing her to continue this sweet torture.

Jubes let a hand trail down Rogue's stomach, slipping it underneath the waistband of her jeans. She blinked and looked up at the woman lying beneath her. Rogue grunted at the loss of Jubilee's mouth on her breast.

"Going commando, Roguey?"

"Since I can't go without a bra..." Rogue answered, shrugging her shoulders, which made her breasts bounce, calling Jubes' attention back to what she'd been doing.

Jubilee smiled. "We should all have that problem." Then she was kissing between Rogue's breasts, following the line of sweat that was beading there down to her navel. Her hands worked the fly of Rogue's jeans, and those were shucked quickly, so she could get to what she really wanted.

She flicked her fingers lightly over the thatch of curls covering Rogue's sex, stroking the outer lips gently as Rogue gasped and began teasing her own nipples.

Jubilee pressed kisses to the silky skin of Rogue's inner thighs while her fingers found her clit. She rubbed it in a circular motion, enjoying the way Rogue's hips arced off the bed, and her breath came in ragged pants.

"Jubes," Rogue moaned, "please..."

Jubilee grinned and buried her face between Rogue's thighs, moving first one finger, then two, inside her tight, wet passage while licking hungrily at her nether lips and her clit. Meanwhile, her other hand slid beneath the waistband of her own panties, so she could pleasure herself as well.

She took Rogue's engorged nub between her lips and sucked hard as she pumped her fingers in and out of Rogue's channel, feeling the woman's inner muscles suddenly clamp down as a the orgasm rippled through her.

Jubilee licked her lips and moved up to kiss her friend, still stimulating her own clit. Their tongues tangled and Rogue could taste herself. She felt Jubilee's hips jerk against her and she murmured, "Should I--"

Jubilee shook her head. "No. That was for you. Congratulations." She rolled over, her hand once again moving against her own flesh, and Rogue wasn't sure what to do.

"Thanks," she whispered, climbing out of the bed. She pulled her jeans and t-shirt on, sans bra, and slipped out of the room while Jubilee coaxed herself into a second climax.

---

Rogue stumbled down the hall, her legs a little wobbly after such an intense orgasm. She'd known Jubilee was bisexual, but she'd never expected to be on the receiving end of her ministrations.

Feeling a little more confident, and excited at her newfound control, she made her way down to the gym.

She still had some energy to burn, and thought a workout would do her good.

After half an hour on the Stairmaster, she decided to call it quits. Since no one was around at five o'clock on Friday evening, she snuck into the men's locker room -- the showers, while not quite as nice as the women's, had better water pressure for some reason.

She stripped, grabbed a towel and turned the corner.

And saw Bobby and St. John, naked and locked in an ardent embrace.

She blinked. She knew they were lovers, but had never really paid much attention to the physical aspect of their relationship. She never realized how sexy two men kissing could be. Their erect cocks rubbed against each other proudly, and she could feel the heat blossoming in her already sensitive mound.

She must have made a sound, because they broke the kiss and stared at her in shock.

"I'm, I'm sorry," she said, blushing bright red. She turned to rush away and slammed right into one of the benches. Both men rushed over to her, only to pull up short at the sight of all that deadly, bared skin.

She sat down on the bench and rubbed her shin. "It's okay," she told them. "I can control it." She reached out a tentative hand and brushed Bobby's arms with her fingers.

He let out the breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. "Rogue, honey, that's great!" he said, and Johnny echoed his words.

They caught her up in an embrace, and after a moment, she was aware that she was naked, and being hugged by two very aroused, very naked men.

All in all, it was quite an interesting sensation, and one she thought she could get used to. She rubbed against Bobby's cock, enjoying the feel of his hard heat against her sex, and smiled at his indrawn breath.

She slid her hands down to encircle their engorged members. "What do you say, boys? Up to showing a girl a good time?"

She was stunned at her own boldness, but the feel of all that supple skin against hers was liberating, and she wanted to explore it all. She wanted to experience everything she'd missed out on these past ten years. And who better than her friends to guide her?

Bobby and Johnny exchanged a glance, and then Bobby shrugged. "We're up all right," he said, not letting on just how excited he was to have the object of all his adolescent fantasies suddenly naked, in his arms, and touchable.

They settled themselves on the bench, Bobby in front and St. John behind her. Their hands were everywhere on her body. She couldn't breathe, but she didn't need air, just the rough velvet glide of Bobby's tongue against hers, and the feel of Johnny's hands on her breasts.

She broke free of the kiss and turned to take Johnny's lips with her own, her hands sliding down Bobby's body, enjoying the feel of taut muscles under cool, pale skin.

Johnny was warm where Bobby was cool, and the contrasting sensations were driving her wild. St. John moved his mouth to her shoulder, his hands still kneading her breasts, pinching her nipples and sending arcs of pleasure through her body, centering on her groin.

She turned her attention to Bobby's well-sculpted chest, licking at his nipples, teasing them into hardness. Her hands played with his hot, hard shaft, stroking him from root to tip.

He almost jumped off the bench when she took him in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the sensitive head.

"Rogue," he managed, threading his hands through her hair.

And then it was her turn to be shocked, as Johnny lifted her hips and impaled her on his cock. She gasped, turning her head to look at him. His hands held steady on her curves, giving her time to adjust to the feel of him sheathed deep inside her passage.

"Reverse cowgirl," he said with a grin. "Ride me, baby."

Her answering smile was wicked. She lowered her head to Bobby's cock and raised her hips, riding Johnny as he'd requested. His hands came around her body, one teasing at her nipples and the other finding her clit as he drove deep into her.

Bobby watched his lover and the girl he used to dream of and couldn't restrain himself. Rogue took him deep into her throat and worked her muscles, calling on faint memories from a woman she'd touched years ago.

Johnny kept up a steady stream of dirty talk as he pumped in and out of her, driving the tension in her tighter until she was sure she couldn't take it anymore, it couldn't get any better.

Bobby came with a rush of warmth into her throat. She took it and swallowed it all. He slipped out of her mouth and kissed her gently, licking his come off her lips. Then he leaned forward and kissed St. John over her shoulder as his hips pistoned into hers and his hand pinched her clit.

She came with a shriek, and Johnny followed after, feeling the orgasm begin at the base of his spine. He was thrusting and then the world exploded inside her hot wetness, with his lover's tongue in his mouth.

They rested against each other for a few moments, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing.

Rogue moved first, her body still shaky from the intensity of her orgasm. She wasn't used to so much activity, and she thought she'd fall over.

"Let's get you cleaned up," St. John said, rising and leading them into the shower.

Bobby took the soap and, as they stood under the spray of three showerheads, began lathering Rogue up, taking his time and maintaining her arousal with gentle touches. He lavished attention on her breasts, sucking the water off them before covering them with suds.

Johnny stood behind him, his hands busy on Bobby's body. When Rogue wrapped one of her long legs around Bobby's hip, brushing her wet pussy against his cock, Johnny smiled.

Sliding her body up against the wall, Bobby wrapped her other leg around him. Johnny stepped closer, his cock rubbing at the cleft in Bobby's ass as Bobby thrust into Rogue's warm, wet heat. She let her head drop to the side, eyes heavy-lidded with passion as he pumped into her. Johnny leaned over and took her mouth in a searing kiss.

She couldn't process it all at once. Her whole world had telescoped to the heat and friction between her legs and the amazing sensations Bobby was producing.

Johnny slicked his fingers with some soap and gently rimmed the lip of Bobby's hole. He positioned himself at the entrance and rubbed his cock gently around it, eyes closing at this pleasure this produced.

Then he eased himself into Bobby's tight entrance, and suddenly the three of them were thrusting in time. Rogue's heels pressed into Johnny's ass, trying to get all of them inside her as the delicious tension she knew heralded another climax grew inside her belly.

"Bobby, you're so hot, you're so fucking hot," Johnny murmured.

"Come on, Rogue, come for me," Bobby said, almost non-verbal from the pleasure he felt from Johnny's cock pressing into his prostate as his own drove into Rogue's tight heat.

She came first, having been primed with two previous orgasms. This one was less shattering in its intensity, but it ran deep. Her muscles clamped down on Bobby's shaft drawing him as deep as she could, and he shuddered, spilling himself into her with one, two, three final thrusts. And Johnny came with his lover, shouting, "Fuck, yeah!" as he drove one last time into Bobby's ass.

They kissed and caressed each other as they finished washing up.

After they were done in the shower, Rogue smiled shyly.

"Thanks, guys," she said, kissing them one final time, their tongues tangling together.

"Anytime, Rogue, anytime," Johnny assured her, watching contentedly as she pulled on her clothes.

As she walked out, she called over her shoulder, "You guys might want to pay Jubes a visit. She'd be happy to see you."

---

She needed time to think. She'd just had sex with three of her best friends. It was overwhelming.

She made her way to the rooftop garden that was Ororo's domain. There she could find peace while she thought through all that had happened today.

She stepped out into the night; there was a chill to the autumn air.

Ororo stood, box of matches in hand, lighting the hurricane lamps near the rose bushes.

She was naked.

Rogue couldn't help but stare at the woman's perfect body -- long mocha-colored legs, softly rounded hips, firm ass, and the curves of her breasts slightly visible, even from behind.

She sucked in a breath and the weather goddess turned.

"Rogue. Congratulations," she said. She showed no surprise at the appearance of her younger colleague, still damp and possibly smelling of sex, even after her shower with Bobby and John. Ororo walked toward her and said, "Does my nudity bother you?"

Rogue thought about that, or she tried to. She found it hard to tear her eyes away from the neatly shaved patch of white hair covering the juncture of Ororo's thighs. She knew she should probably stop and think. She should be disturbed at the fact that everyone she ran into today was naked or quickly wound up that way.

Is it Naked Friday and nobody told me? she wondered idly, as Ororo drew her into an unselfconscious embrace. She felt Storm's breasts pressed to her own and the satiny smooth texture of that cocoa skin as it moved over well-toned muscles.

She wondered, not-so-idly, what Ororo would taste like. Again, she pushed away the thought that she should be bothered by all this. Maybe this was what life was like for people who could touch. Faint memories of Logan's surfaced, and his life seemed to be filled with random sexual encounters of all sorts.

She deserved this, she needed this, was starved for it.

All these thoughts raced through her head in less time than it took for her to gently brush her lips against Ororo's.

"No," she answered, her mouth on Ororo's. "It doesn't bother me at all."

The weather goddess smiled and pulled back. Rogue wondered if she'd erred. She and 'Ro had become close six years ago, after her relationship with Remy had ended. Remy had never been one for caution or restraint, and he grew frustrated at the careful, planned manner in which he and Rogue had had sex.

The lure of his old life as Prince of Thieves, not to mention the reappearance of his previously unmentioned wife, had been too much for their fragile relationship. He left, and Rogue poured her heart out to Ororo night after night in the garden, over mugs of raspberry tea.

Ororo tasted of raspberry tea now, and Rogue longed for that comfort. After the debacle with Remy, she'd given up the ghost of hope she'd held for a relationship with Logan. After all, wasn't Logan just like Remy, only more so? He wouldn't stand being tied down any better, and a man with his legendary libido wouldn't want to have be slow and careful with his lover. Or so she'd thought.

The one time something had come close to happening between them, she'd pulled away and laughed it off, even though she knew he could hear her heart racing and smell her arousal. He'd left soon after, for almost a year, and she'd wondered if he'd finally given up on their friendship. When he returned, they'd settled comfortably back into "friend" mode, and that's where they stood now.

While Rogue had been ruminating on Logan, Ororo had finished lighting her lanterns and led her back into the room.

"It's warmer," she explained before seating herself on the bed and pulling Rogue down next to her.

"Is this, is this okay?" Rogue asked tentatively. With the others it had been spur of the moment, but this was something else again. Ororo didn't flaunt her sex life. In fact, if Rogue hadn't known better, she'd have thought 'Ro was a virgin goddess. But in the course of their Remy conversations, 'Ro had revealed her past relationship with a very famous alumnus of the school. Rogue knew the other woman still saw the man in the city occasionally.

"It is if it's what you want, my friend," Ororo replied, pushing one of Rogue's white locks behind her ear.

Rogue sucked in a breath, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the rosebushes and the spicy scent of the woman next to her.

"I want to taste you," she murmured, kissing 'Ro again. This time she demanded entrance to her mouth, seeking her warmth.

Their tongues met and Rogue pressed Ororo back onto the bed. They were a tangle of clothed and nude limbs until Ororo insisted that Rogue's t-shirt and jeans come off.

Her bra long gone, left on the floor of Jubilee's room, removing the t-shirt allowed Ororo free access to Rogue's breasts. She licked at the already hard and swollen nubs, and Rogue moaned softly.

"Let me," she managed, sliding down so she could return the favor.

Ororo's breasts were beautiful, and Rogue laved and sucked at them with great enthusiasm before sliding her lips lower. She grinned when 'Ro giggled.

"I'm ticklish," the weather goddess revealed breathlessly. "Don't stop!"

Rogue moved purposefully down 'Ro's slim body, kneading her hip while she pressed kisses along her belly, until she finally found herself staring at the neatly-trimmed patch of white curls between 'Ro's legs.

Ororo was already dripping wet, her café-au-lait lips glistening with her arousal. Rogue took a deep breath and suddenly, Logan's long-faded memories surfaced, giving her guidance in this area.

She brushed her fingers lightly over Ororo's silky folds before diving in with her tongue, lapping at her juices. 'Ro's hips rose off the bed and her hands threaded through Rogue's hair.

Rogue found her clit and was licking it eagerly when Ororo pulled her hair a little harder.

She looked up, her face damp with Ororo's essence. "What?" she barked, a little annoyed at having been stopped.

"Swing around so I can lick you," Ororo said.

Rogue's eyes widened. "Why didn't I think of that?" she asked rhetorically, rearranging herself so her mound was positioned over 'Ro's face. "Is that okay?" she said, lowering herself.

Ororo didn't answer with words, instead, her fingers and tongue began stroking Rogue's clit. Rogue closed her eyes and tried to remain in control so she could go back to licking at Ororo's pussy.

The two women licked and teased and ate each other in almost complete silence, only their heavy breathing and occasional moaning giving away how aroused they were.

Rogue came first, a testament to Ororo's oral skills. She quivered as every muscle in her body seemed to contract and then release, and she saw white lights flashing behind her eyes.

She redoubled her efforts, using both fingers and tongue on Ororo's sensitive nubbin, finally sucking on it while 'Ro cried out, "Oh, goddess," and shuddered under her hands.

Rogue rolled to the side and stared at her friend. "What, what was this? Is this what everyone does?" she asked, the questions she'd pushed aside earlier coming to the fore now.

Ororo smiled and licked her lips, still covered with Rogue's nectar. "Everyone loves you, Rogue, and is happy for you. That is all. Come up here."

Rogue moved so that they could cuddle, petting each other gently. She fell into a light doze and when she woke, it was full dark.

"What time is it?" she asked groggily.

Ororo looked up at the skylight. "Around ten."

"I missed dinner," she said, blushing. She'd been fucking Bobby and Johnny in the locker room then.

Ororo smiled. "Go. I'm sure there's something in the refrigerator. You need to keep up your strength."

Rogue pulled her clothes back on once again, wondering why she was even bothering, washed her face and hands, and headed downstairs for some food.

---

She wandered down to the kitchen, hungry after her exertions. This sex thing was way more strenuous than any of the workouts she'd been through in her time as an X-Man.

She stopped in the doorway, somehow not surprised at the sight before her. After everything else that had happened to her today, seeing Jean and Scott having sex in the kitchen was nothing.

Jean wore a leopard-print cup-less bustier, which left her breasts exposed to the air, her nipples pink and proud. Her sex was covered by a scrap of leopard-print lace, and on her feet were a pair of high-heeled platform mules -- also leopard print.

Scott was naked except for his glasses, a dog collar with a little jingly bell (to which a leash was attached, but it hung free behind him at the moment), and a thin coating of Hershey's chocolate syrup, which Jean was eagerly licking off his erect cock.

There was a container of Haagen-Dazs dulce de leche melting on the counter. Rogue considered grabbing it and high-tailing it back to her room when Scott spotted her.

"We have an audience," he said, but he didn't sound like the Fearless Leader. His mouth -- He has the most amazing mouth, Rogue thought, amazed she was entertaining the thoughts she was, after the way she'd spent her afternoon and evening -- curled into a sexy grin. "Wanna play?" he asked mischievously.

Jean turned and looked at her. Wordlessly, she grabbed the leash and Scott hopped down off the table. I'm never eating on that table again, Rogue thought, before Jean distracted her.

"Bring the ice cream," she said, carrying the bottle of Hershey's syrup, pulling Scott -- who jingled with every step -- along and stalking toward the elevator. Rogue grabbed the carton and three spoons and hurried after them.

They rushed into the suite Jean and Scott shared, and Rogue looked at them -- her leaders, her mentors -- and wondered what came next.

Jean snickered. "Hopefully, we do," she said in response to Rogue's thought. Then she leaned in and licked Rogue's lips. "Mmm, Ororo, huh?"

Rogue blinked in shock. "How-- I mean, how--"

Jean smiled kittenishly. "Don't worry about it." She tugged on the leash and Scott moved forward with bells on (Sorry! Couldn't help it!) to press kisses to Rogue's neck and face.

"These clothes have got to go," Jean ordered, and with a flick of her mind, Rogue's clothes flew off. Rogue blinked.

Scott was still dropping kisses along her jaw, and then his tongue was in her ear. "Just go with it," he murmured. "She's very good at this."

Jean crawled onto the bed and motioned for them to follow. She and Scott alternately kissed Rogue and each other, their hands stroking her into a frenzy of desire -- again. How many orgasms is it possible to have in one day? she wondered while she could still form a coherent thought.

She licked and kissed her way down Jean's angular body, stopping only to remove the leopard print thong that barely covered her mound.

"You're a natural redhead," she said, amazed. The Logan in her head, who'd disappeared years ago, only to reappear earlier today, was thrilled.

"Of course. Don't just look at me, Rogue," she demanded. She drizzled some chocolate syrup on herself. "Lick me."

Rogue went down on all fours and began licking at Jean's slit, the copper-colored curls drenched in her arousal. She had a different taste than Ororo, but it was interesting, and mixed in with the chocolate, delicious.

Just as she was really getting into making Jean thrash on the bed, she felt Scott's erection pressing at her soaking entrance. "May I?" he asked, ever the gentleman.

She looked up from Jean's pussy. "Please," she got out before Jean pushed herself up into Rogue's face again.

Scott moved slowly at first, only stroking her wet lips with the head of his cock, making her moan against Jean's mound. The vibration made Jean squirm, and she panted Rogue's name while pinching her own nipples.

Then Scott thrust all the way into Rogue's tight, wet passage, and stilled. Rogue rocked her hips back against him, trying to get him to move. She thrust her tongue into Jean in time to the rhythm she and Scott were establishing, and Jean came with a hoarse cry.

Scott continued to pump in and out of Rogue's channel, and Jean crawled forward to press her lips to Rogue's nipples and her fingers to Rogue's clit.

Rogue came with tremendous force, her inner muscles clamping down on Scott's cock, pulling him in as deep as she could.

He threw back his head and groaned, losing the rhythm they'd established, the jingling of his collar becoming frenzied as he climaxed, spilling himself deep inside of Rogue.

They collapsed onto the bed in a sweat-soaked heap. Jean slid down and licked Scott's come off Rogue's body, and then added some of the ice cream to it as she continued licking. Rogue moaned softly, coming quickly again, more softly this time. She'd lost count of the number of orgasms she'd had.

They kissed and touched each other softly for a few minutes, and then Scott was ready to go again. He lay flat on his back and Jean straddled his hips, lowering herself down onto his shaft. Rogue crawled up and knelt over him, her ice cream and come-soaked pussy right over his mouth. He lapped at her eagerly as Jean rode him hard.

None of them lasted very long, Scott pouring into Jean as Jean's inner walls clenched around him. The vibrations of his moans as he came, along with the steady sucking on her clit, pulled Rogue over the edge, and every nerve in her body pulsed and fired as she found her release.

Again, they lay tangled together, Rogue wondering if she was going to wake up from a very bizarre and erotic dream.

"It's not a dream," Jean reassured her. "Clean up a little and go to your room. You need some rest."

Rogue smiled tiredly. "Yeah," she said, not bothering to pull her jeans back on. She knew she'd probably be walking funny in the morning, and all she wanted now was a hot shower and her own bed.

---

She scurried down the hall half-naked, and breathed a sigh of relief as she made it back to her room without encountering anybody.

She leaned against the door and took a deep breath. She reeked of sweat and sex, chocolate and caramel. She desperately needed a shower.

She was in no way prepared when Logan spoke.

"You've been busy," he commented from the armchair next to the bed. She knew he could smell everything she could, and probably more.

"Had a lot of catching up to do," she responded. She refused to be embarrassed by what she'd done. She wanted to try everything, especially since she wasn't sure how long her control would last -- it could be some sort of fluke.

"Find anything you like?" He slid down in the chair when she sauntered over seductively.

"Yeah." She straddled him and, in a scene straight out of one her fantasies, pressed her lips to his.

He pushed her away gently. "You need to shower, Marie."

She blinked. Everyone else had just gone along. She never expected him to resist.

"What? Why? I can touch! We can be together now," she exclaimed.

He lifted her off his lap and carried her into the bathroom. He set her down on the toilet, flicked on the light, and began running the water.

"I thought, I thought that once I could touch, you'd want to be with me," she continued, realizing that she'd never given up hope, though she thought she had. She was embarrassed not by her sexcapades, but by the tears welling up at his rejection.

He turned at that, a strange look in his eyes. "I never cared about your skin, Marie. Never."

"But-- that New Year's Eve when we -- You weren't serious. You took off the next day!" She knew she wasn't making any sense, but she couldn't help it.

"You laughed when I kissed you, like it was a big joke. What the hell else was I supposed to do? It was obvious you didn't want me around."

"But Remy --"

"I ain't Remy," he growled.

He turned away and busied himself with the bath. He opened and sniffed at a couple of bottles of bubble bath before deciding on the lavender bath gel. He poured a generous amount into the hot water and said, "Come on, Marie. Get in the tub."

She took off her shirt, all her excitement at being able to touch gone. She slid into the water and closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry.

When she opened them, he stood before her naked, washcloth in hand. He knelt next to the tub and dipped the washcloth in the water. He wrung it out and then gently washed her body, moving it over her shoulders, kneading gently. Then he slid down her arms and scrubbed each of her fingers, before turning his attention to her breasts.

He stroked them reverently, cupping the firm flesh softly and rubbing the washcloth over her sore nipples.

"Ah." She let her head fall back against the tile. He smiled, though she didn't see it because her eyes were closed.

He washed her legs next, and then slowly cleaned the dark tangle of curls between her legs. She opened naturally to him, and let herself be lulled by the soothing strokes of his hand against her. Of all the things she'd ever expected of the Wolverine, this tenderness was not one of them.

Then he was done. He pulled the plug and the water began running down the drain. "Stand up, Marie," he said, stepping into the tub and pulling the curtain shut. He waited until most of the bathwater was gone before turning the shower on and rinsing her off. He held her close and it felt so right to be in his arms. She finally lost the battle with her tears and cried softly.

"What's wrong, kid?" His fingers brushed away her tears and lifted her face to his.

"I, you-- What are you doing, Logan? What is this?"

He shrugged. "I heard that you could control your powers. Chuck told me right after your session that he thought you'd made a major breakthrough. I came up here to see you, but you weren't here. I've been waiting for you." He paused, then, "You obviously had better things to do."

"I just, I wanted--" she sniffed, then coughed as she inhaled some water. "What if it doesn't last? After Remy left, I decided I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't be in a relationship, because I could never fully be with someone. And it's not fair to expect anyone to put up with that." She lowered her eyes.

"Look at me, Marie," he commanded. She did, and he said, "That's bullshit. If someone really loves you, they won't give a damn about your skin. None of us is a bargain, but you -- you just took yourself right off the shelf." He poured some shampoo into his hand and began lathering her hair. "Being able to do this," he leaned down and kissed her chastely, "without a scarf is a bonus. All I ever wanted was you. Lethal skin and all."

Her eyes were dark and sad as she stared up at him. "I didn't know," she whispered.

"Close your eyes, darlin'. You don't wanna get soap in them."

He rinsed the shampoo out of her hair and decided to forego the mysterious thing known as conditioner. He turned the water off, stepped out and lifted her out with him. Picking up a towel he'd hung on the bar, he wrapped her in it before doing the same for himself.

After they were somewhat dried off, he silently led her into the bedroom. He put her into bed and slid in next to her.

"Sleep now, darlin'. We'll discuss it in the morning."

---

She woke slowly, images from the day before flashing before her eyes. What a dream, she thought, stretching languidly and feeling the soreness in her body. Her arm banged into something solid, warm and fuzzy.

Her eyes fluttered open and she saw Logan staring down at her intently. "It wasn't a dream?"

"It wasn't a dream," he confirmed, the left side of his mouth quirking up into a half-grin.

"And I still have control?"

"You do." He pushed the hair out of her face and kissed her forehead.

She took in their state of undress. "You're crazy," she said, snuggling against him. "I could have killed you if I lost control in my sleep."

He cupped her chin and raised her face. "Marie, darlin', if we do this, you have to realize that we live with that every night."

"What -- What do you mean?" she whispered, afraid he couldn't mean what she thought he did.

"If you and I start this -- thing -- I'm a killer. It's what I was built for. The nightmares and the claws -- that's something that'll always be with me, Marie. You stand just as much chance of getting killed by me in bed as I do by you." He looked away for a moment, and then his hazel eyes locked onto her brown ones with laser intensity. "Do you understand? This is, this is serious shit, you and me.

"Yesterday, you had a lot of fun, but it's not gonna be like that with me. You and me, we're an exclusive thing, okay?"

He was endearing when he was serious, she thought. "Yesterday was--" she fumbled for the words. "It wasn't anything I ever expected. I just, it was all about touch and sex and feeling things I never felt before. It's not, it's not what I want. Jesus, I don't know how I'm ever going to face any of them again." She felt the heat of a blush climbing up her body, and his mouth quirked again.

"Don't worry about it, kid. Just hold your head up. They were there, too." He traced the line of her clavicle with one long finger. "So, what do you want?" He was suddenly unable to look at her, his eyes following the path of his fingers.

She smiled, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with mere physical attraction and everything to do with love flooding her body. "You, Logan. All I want is you."

She took his chin in her hand, mimicking his earlier motion, and pressed her lips to his softly.

He returned the kiss, and at first, that's all it was, a gentle confirmation of their love, to the exclusion of all others.

Somehow, it was better than all the raunchy sex she'd had yesterday. Though that had had caring and friendship behind it -- as well as a healthy dose of lust -- this was more. This was love, and it was everything she'd ever hoped.

Reality had finally caught up to her dreams, and it was very, very good.

End