You've gone.

Your things may still be here but you're not.

You've gone running again only this time, I'm the one you're running from. From something we both could feel happening even though we didn't want it to. Not that it's wrong but it's not right. . .not right for us anyway.

You've left before but I didn't know what it was like to have you around. Lurking around the corners of the school. Sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong. Or sneaking out to the garage late at night just to smoke your cigars and not think about Jean or the MRA or the past you still want answers for.

"Aren't you up past your bedtime?" you said, your keen senses sensing me before I was even two steps in the room. You turned your head to watch me enter, your eyes better suited to the dark than mine.

"You're not supposed to smoke inside," I reminded you, coming over to sit beside you on the hood of a freshly waxed car. I had to lean against you a little so I wouldn't slide off but you didn't seem to mind.

"Are you going to tell on me?"

"Not if you don't tell on me," I answered and you smiled at that. You don't smile often but you will for me, when no one else is around. "Couldn't sleep."

"Nightmares?"

"No," I replied, knowing you still had them. Sometimes, I do too but your memories have faded, like all memories do but I remember the pain they caused for you. That, I will always feel in my head. "Just. . .restless."

"I know what you mean," you said, nodding at me before you looked at me. Really looked at me. It was then I knew how restless you really were.

No matter what Stryker wanted you to believe, you aren't an animal but you are a man and men have needs. Human needs. Needs that can't always be filled with a six-pack of Molston or an expensive Cuban or the company of someone you can't completely touch.

"Were you going somewhere?" I asked, noticing you had your jacket on. "You're dressed like you're going somewhere. . ."

"And you're not coming," you stated in the same firm, rough voice you use when you try and convince the Professor I shouldn't be part of the team. Or convince yourself I'm still the kid you left behind the first time. The kid who needed to be taken care of but I can take care of myself now.

"Or you could not go. You could stay here with me," I suggested, not really meaning for it to be suggestive but somehow, it was. My face flushed over and beneath my gloves, my palms started to sweat.

"And do what?" you asked, your eyes searching mine. I couldn't breathe, couldn't answer you under your intense gaze and I felt something inside me tighten and ache. Something I'd dismissed long ago as a stupid crush and something that would never...could never happen but here it was. Here you were and looking at me like it was something you wanted just as much.

I'd learned from Bobby what was possible, what I could do without anyone getting hurt.

And I could do a lot.

I leaned over and kissed the space just below your ear, a space mostly covered in the coarse, thick hair of your unshaven beard. You moaned a little, then a lot as you pulled back just enough to slide off the car then slide me toward you. My heart was pounding hard, both out of fear and excitement at what you were going to do next. You heard it, I knew you did because you smiled just a little before placing your hand over my heart.

"Relax. . ." you whispered.

But I couldn't. Not with you finally touching me like this. Your hand slid over to feel my breast, pressing into it with your palm and squeezing it firmly. Somehow, I started to breathe again but it was jagged and shallow just like yours.

My hands moved to clutch your upper arms, afraid you would stop if I didn't hold you in place. You edged your hips between my thighs and your hands moved to my waist to pull my hips against yours. I gasped as your hardness pressed into me, pressing into nerves that sent a low tremble of pleasure through the lower half of my body.

I closed my eyes, my fingers gripping fast the leather of your jacket. My head was spinning, swirling in the sudden rush of heat and need. I felt your hands start to rub the top of my thighs, fingers kneading in a steady rhythm. Fast. Then slow. So slow that it made my insides ache all the more.

"Please," I whispered, that one word catching your attention. I lifted my eyes to yours to find you staring at me.

"Please what?" you asked, but you knew what I wanted.

The chances of anyone walking in and finding us were slim to none and even if they did, I wouldn't have cared. My fingers released their death grip on your shoulders and slid down your chest, pausing briefly over your heart to find it beating almost as hard as mine.

"Relax," I said, my lips curling slightly at the state you were in. At the state I put you in. "I know what I'm doing. . ."

"I can see that," you mumbled as my fingers moved lower still to the large, silver buckle on your belt. With some effort, I unfastened it.

I exhaled, pushing whatever air there was in my lungs out. My breathing became shallow then, just a series of quick rasps as I unzipped your fly. You grew very still as I slipped my hand in to touch you.

My fingers curled around your length, the weight and thickness considerably more than what I was used to. My eyes widened a little, anticipating what it would feel like with you. I was glad I wouldn't have to wait very long to find out.

"Marie," you said, using my given name instead of Rogue. It was strange to hear considering you never called me Marie before now. My smile widened at it as I started to stroke you even though you were more than ready.

And after a couple minutes, so was I.

You reached into your back pocket then handed me a small foil package. I didn't ask, didn't want to know why you had them on you. I let go of you just long enough to tear it open and put it on knowingly. You raised an eyebrow at that, at me and I found myself smiling at your reaction. I'm not a virgin and haven't been for a while.

You had my shoes and jeans off in a matter of seconds, pulling both quickly off and discarding them on the floor. When you reached for my underwear, I stopped you.

"Leave them on," I said, my cheeks flushing at having to tell you that. I reached down between my legs to push the damp fabric to one side. "It's easier for me to control. . .to keep it from. . ."

"Got it," you replied, sparing me from having to explain it anymore. Then, your expression changed to one of concern. "Is everything else. . .good?"

"Yeah," I assured you, sliding your jeans only a little further down. I had learned to control my power somewhat in the months you were gone but not enough to do this without some security still. Once satisfied, I curled my legs loosely around your hips and looked up into your dark, dark eyes. "Now, Logan."

Without hesitation, you nudged your cock against my opening, teasing me a bit before pushing inside slowly. I felt myself stretch and expand around your thickness before you thrust the rest of the way. Hard. I gasped, the sudden jolt jarring me senseless for a moment. It took me a couple seconds to recover, to focus enough to meet the next thrust with one of my own.

The pace was uneven and fast and nothing like what I was used to. I couldn't keep my eyes open, couldn't keep my hips in synch with yours and I stopped trying. I let everything else go except the trembling sensation building fast inside me.

Your hands were on my waist, angling my hips up to yours even more. I swear I could feel you all the way up in my head, pounding hard and fast. I was able to hold on through the twinge and the tightening and then the pleasure as it pulsed through me.

Wow.

When it subsided, I unwrapped my legs from your hips and let them fall open around them instead. Unrestricted now, you moved even faster than before. I was able to keep my eyes open but only because yours were shut, squeezed tight with concentration then your own pleasure. You pushed in one last time before your body shuddered into mine.

It was then I felt the damn pull, felt it wherever our skin was making contact. I fought it as best as I could but I didn't have enough control. Fear made me panic and I pushed at your shoulders.

"Move. . .please!"

Your eyes snapped open, your quick reflexes kicking in. You slid out of my body and away, breaking the connection. Any relief I felt was quickly gone, replaced by embarrassment and awkwardness over what just happened. I moved off the car to retrieve my jeans, pulling them back on slowly just so I wouldn't have to look at you. It worked for a minute or two and then I felt your hand on my arm.

"Hey," I heard you whisper, trying to get my attention. You shook me gently, insistently and wouldn't stop until my eyes met yours. "It's okay. . ."

"No, it's not," I said, my breath hitching in my chest. I could see your eyes already filling with regret and guilt and everything else I knew would be there.

And now you're gone and I'm standing in your empty room, filled with my own regret.

I know you, Logan. You're somewhere thinking up some way to tell me it can't happen again, that it was a mistake and you should've known better. You think you took advantage of me, of my feelings for you but nothing could be further from the truth. I knew what I was doing and I know what I want.

I just wish you wanted it, too.

"Rogue. . .you can't be here."

The sound of your voice startles me and I turn around, not believing it's really you but it is.

"Logan," I say as you shut the door behind you. I swallow back tears, not wanting you to see them. "Where did you go?"

"I had to. . .clear my head," you mutter, looking off to the side instead of looking at me.

"Of me?"

"No," you lie, your eyes flickering to mine before you sigh. "I was leaving before you. . .well, before you."

"Leaving," I repeat, scared of what you meant by that. "For good?"

"No," you assure me, hearing the fear in my voice. You sigh again before moving towards me, towards the bed. You turn around and sit, motioning for me to join you. After a moment, I do but I keep a little safe distance between us.

"But you're back," I say, wanting that reassurance as well.

"I'm back because. . .because you need to know why I'm leaving," you say, stammering over your words. "Why I need to leave again."

"Okay," I say hesitantly, part of me afraid of you continuing. It's a good minute or two before you do. It makes me worry all the more.

"It was something Stryker said at Alikali Lake," you start, your eyes finally coming up to mine. "Something he asked me when I had him captive. He asked if I wanted to know if *she* was still alive."

"She. . ." I say, the possibilities already flying around my head as to who that could be.

"Yeah. He was scared for his life and for a long time, I figured he'd just said it to screw with me, so I wouldn't just kill him. The past was all he had to hold over me. . ."

"But?" I say, sensing that's not really it.

"I still don't know who I was, Rogue. What life I lead before. She could be anyone. . ."

"Like a wife?" I guess, frowning at that.

"Like a wife, a mother, maybe even a daughter. . ." you answer, shaking your head before pressing your fingers into your eyes for a moment before looking back at me. "I just don't know."

"And that's what you going to find out before I. . ."

"Yeah, before you," you say, giving me a slight smile before becoming serious again. "I wanted to find out first before we. . .well, before we."

"I'm sorry, Logan," I whisper, shaking my head. Tears start welling up in my eyes and you reach for my gloved hand. "We shouldn't have. . .and I shouldn't have stopped you."

"No, you shouldn't have," you say, using my hand to pull me a little closer. You lean in and bring your face to mine. "But I'm not sorry about. . .it. Us."

"You're not?"

"No," you answer, your fingers squeezing mine. "What's done is done."

"Yeah," I say, breathing a sigh of relief. "Can't undo the past, Logan."

"No. . .you can just deal with it and go forward," you continue, scooting even closer still. You put your arm around me and I drop my head on your shoulder, blinking away whatever tears are there. My body relaxes into yours until a sudden thought makes me lift my head again.

"And where is this going?" I ask, wanting to be sure I'm not misinterpreting this, misinterpreting you. My eyes search yours but this time, I see no regret in them at all.

"I know where I'd *like* it go," you mutter, raising an eyebrow at me. I smile.

"I'd like it to go there, too."

The End