I know what everyone thinks - I’m the epitome of perfection, a walking, talking monument to everything a woman should be. I’m so perfect that I think every man wants me. Yeah right, and if you buy that I’ve got a bridge in the middle of Arizona I want to sell you! Really there is one there - look in your tourism books people it was brought over in the nineteenth century and is the original London Bridge but I’m digressing!!!

Last night I was sitting up in the study, savoring a nice long drink of white wine when I got the uncomfortable sensation that I was missing something. It felt almost like a mental tickle, an annoying insect that wouldn’t let me be and I sat up straight. A quick glance revealed no one in the room so I moved through the darkness to the window and looked out.

What I saw was enough to make me swallow tears.

Logan sat out there on the grass, a solitary figure with the faint wisp of smoke curling around him. The faint glow of his cigar winked in the darkness at me as he took a drag before fading away. He stared at the moon, his shoulders hunched against some unseen pain, his body and mind tormented and I debated about going to him.

I know. Bad idea. It would be all over the mansion by morning that we were screwing like rabbits out there but still. I mean everyone thinks I’m panting after the man like a bitch in heat - so not true despite the fact that he is the sexiest man alive excluding Scott! Logan is if nothing else my friend and seeing him in such discomfort, such agony made my heart bleed.

Setting my glass down I sighed my hand automatically going to my throat as I stood there watching him. In the weeks he’d been back, Logan had withdrawn from everyone, and everything. He rarely ate with us, only appeared to go out on a mission or two and the rest of the time..

Well if we didn’t see him during the day everyone knew that a few hours after dark, after everyone had gone to sleep and he’d be out on the lawn. I don’t know how many nights I’ve witnessed him go out there and sit alone, his body aching with some unknown pain. I’ve lost track of the number of mornings that I’ve entered the kitchen to find a couple empty beer bottles in the trash can, a half eaten sandwich, and the coffee pot full of freshly brewed coffee.

Oh yes I know that Logan is haunted, know that he’s torn but about what I can’t say. I’ve often felt the desire to go to Charles and discuss it with him but something stops me. Some little point that makes me aware of how Logan likes his privacy keeps me from speaking of him to anyone else. Logan may be here because he chooses to be but he still is just as wild and untamed as he was back when we first met and there is nothing I want less than to tangle with him over prying. After all I’ve seen what the Wolverine can do and it’s a scary thought.

With a sigh I shift and shrug aside my hesitancy. Walking to the patio doors I slip out into the warm night and head across the lawn, my bare feet making soft patters on the cement.

“Mind if I join you?” I ask softly hoping he doesn’t take it as a sign of something other than a friendly concern.


“Suit yourself,” the low, angry grunt has me sucking in a breath a minute before I sink to the dew dampened grass and sit there in silence. It doesn’t strike me as odd that he sits motionless, that his focus is somewhere other than me. Honestly if he’d reached out for me I’d have been shocked, Logan is if nothing else a reclusive, self-aware person and physical contact for him is something he abhors. At least with most of us but that’s another story for another time.

“How are you doing Logan?” I ask after a few minutes of silence. “We hardly see you.”

“Mph, what d’ya care?” the anger in his voice barely hides the pain.

“I am your friend Logan. I want to help..”

“You can’t,” he turns his head and glares at me with barely suppressed rage. “You can’t give me what I want more than anything in this world. You’re just as useless as the rest of the geeks.” With that he rises to his feet and stalks toward the mansion.

“Perhaps, but how do you know? How can you be so certain that I can’t help?”

I feel the chill that races through my body at the look in his eyes before he glances back at the mansion, his eyes settling on a window on the third floor with undisguised longing and pain. “Because I know better.” the low, angry hiss of his voice is only haunted by the sound of his claws coming out and I shivered at the banked fury and pain in that single movement.

I watch him walk away for a few steps before I shudder and shake my head. Figures, the only man alive that I know who’s virtually indestructible and he’s been brought to his knees by a slim, dark haired angel that’s just as deadly as he is.

Its funny really, I know Logan cares about her. I know Logan wants her to be happy, and he thinks her involvement with Bobby will be good for her - but its slowly killing him in the process. The thing is I think he wants to leave, wants to run from it but can’t. His heart won’t let him leave her behind again!

I sat there until the night faded into early dawn my heart torn and silent tears pooling in my eyes that I refused to let fall. I knew when Scott came to me, knew what he was thinking and I smiled sadly up at him. I didn’t know how to tell him what had happened, didn’t know how to tell the man I love body and soul that my heart was breaking for Logan; the one man that nobody but a freak amongst the freaks went out of their way to care about.

I mean how do you tell someone that you feel bad because you can’t let go of your opinion enough to let another have a sliver of the peace and devotion that you enjoy? Sometimes being an adult sucks and other times it’s a joy - today it sucks!