Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Gamma, beta Queen!

Summary: He knew why he didn’t want to go back; he wasn’t stupid enough to try and kid himself.
Title: Control 1/?
Author: sharonmjl47
Rating: NC-17
Category: Movieverse.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and no one. Sad, isn’t it!
Feedback: Please, bad or good. If no one tells me it’s bad, I won’t know!

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He pushed the empty beer bottle away from him and gestured to the barmaid for another. She smiled sexily at him and leaned over the bar when she brought him his fresh beer. He got a good view of her ample cleavage as she did so. That’s why she’d done it. He’d been here for two days and one night now. Last night, he had spent with her; she was good looking, around twenty-five, mousy brown hair and huge breasts that he had spent a great deal of time sucking and licking.

He smirked at her, knowing full well that he would probably be having her against the back wall of the bar in around twenty minutes time, her break. Then as she turned away, he frowned. Then sighed. He shouldn’t be here; he should be about four hundred miles closer to Westchester by now. Damn, he should be *in* Westchester by now. He had been going slowly on purpose, and he knew it. He was avoiding going home.

The school was his home now, there was no denying that, and he had a good life there: friends, people who cared. All the things that he was sure that he would never have, including playing superhero on the weekends. He taught phys-ed to all the younger brats, teaching them sports, games and fair play. The older ones he pushed to the limit, making sure that when the shit hit the fan, they knew how to play dirty and survive. He also taught the debate class, which Scott seemed to find hilarious, but Xavier pointed out no one likes an argument quite like the Wolverine.

During the winter, he took off to Canada, his classes were covered as they understood his need to roam around, fight, get drunk, fuck and get enough fresh air and free space for him to cope with the next term of the school year. Only this time, he was a week later getting back. It was January the 15th. He should have been back on the 8th for the beginning of the new term, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. ‘Ro and Scott had called him, and he had lied, saying the bike had problems and he had encountered more snow than normal. Scott said it was getting ridiculous, and he was going to pick him up in the Blackbird. Logan couldn’t talk him out of it. So here he was spending an extra day in a backwater town waiting for Scott. Funnily enough, he was in Laughlin.

He knew why he didn’t want to go back; he wasn’t stupid enough to try and kid himself. The reason? Marie. He shouldn’t be surprised that he had feelings for the girl. Even he had to admit that she was the hottest thing on the planet. Soft curves, sexy roll of her hips as she walked, huge dark eyes that, much to his annoyance, held more years that he could count, and a smile that could knock any man on his ass. Only thing was he had left it too late to do anything about it. By the time he had spent three years moping around after Jean and he finally got his head out of his ass and noticed, she had grown up into a confident, competent art teach and sexy young woman. She was completely in love with someone else, and he was suddenly her best friend.

They spent a lot of time together. She was his drinking partner, because thanks to his healing, she could drink most people under the table. He taught her to drive, fight, handle weapons and play pool. And she once introduced him to the joys of hash cakes. He smiled at that memory; most of the mansion would never forget that day. Especially Scott. He had been the one to find them lying in the middle of the mansion lawn laughing their asses off because Logan had spotted a cloud that he thought looked like a big pair of underpants.

He was her best friend, and he couldn’t actually pinpoint the moment he realised that their friendship had turned into something else. It was somewhere between Bobby cheating on her and a month or so later her stating to date Santo, a.k.a. Rockslide. The whole Bobby incident was also another legendary event at the mansion. Logan had been at a bar in town and was in the throws of taking a girl round the back alley for a little bit of fun, when he caught sight of Bobby’s car parked outside the bar across the street. Thinking that he was with Marie, he excused himself from the girl and went to find them for a drink. What he found was completely different: Bobby was sitting in a dark back booth, a blonde wriggling around with her hand down his pants and his tongue in her mouth.

After a moment of shock and swirling emotions, he had walked over, yanked Little Miss Peroxide off Bobby, and punched his lights out. He drove home, woke Marie, and explained what had happened. The whole team had woken up because of Marie’s crying and were gathered in the kitchen when Bobby came home. To Logan’s complete joy, she simply rose graceful from her chair, crossed the room, and smacked him hard across the face, telling him clearly to move his stuff out of her room. Logan had to resist the temptation to punch the air and shout ‘YES!’

Then she had started seeing Santo. Logan shook his head and took a long slug on his beer. He would never understand what they had seen in each other. Santo was six foot two, weighed about 480lbs, and looked like a bald WWF wrestler. His mutation worked virtually the same way that Pete’s did. He could turn it off and on whenever he wanted, and when his skin was ‘on’, he was made completely out of organic rock. He was extremely strong and durable. He could also detach and reattach his limbs to fire them as projectiles. The best thing for Marie was that his rock skin was completely immune to her mutation. Not that it mattered much these days, as she could control it now. Logan had to smile again; Rockslide may well be as tall as Logan and bigger than him and Pete put together, but he was a soft as a chocolate teapot.

Logan resisted the urge to chuckle at how much of a soft touch Rockslide was. The first time he had caught Marie’s eye was after a mission, one of Rockslide’s first. They had raided a lab and rescued a number of children, but for every one they found alive, there was two found dead. Back in the jet going home, Rockslide had started to blub about what they had seen and how unfair it was for those children to have died like that. Logan’s uniform was torn to shreds, Bobby was covered in bruises, Scott was bleeding profusely from a cut on his head, and Gambit had practically fried himself, but all the girls - Marie, ‘Ro, Jubes and Kitty - had fawned over Santo. Comforting him, getting him a glass of water and tissues. He didn’t even have a scratch on him. The boys had sat there stunned at what they were seeing.

That year-long relationship had gone sour and ended about a month ago. Marie had called Logan in a temper, saying that she hated men, present company excluded, and that she was going to try women for a change. After he had gagged on his beer, she had laughed on the other end of the phone and explained what had happened. She had eventually got sick of coping with Santo’s emotional breakdowns every few weeks or so. She said that she had simply had enough of every time they had an argument or something upset him, she was left with a huge pile of blubbering rock, and unfortunately her temper flared and she told him so. He promptly burst into tears, and she walked out, utterly frustrated and fed-up.

So that was the main reason he was avoiding going back. She was single again. Touchable, not that it would have made much difference if she weren’t. Available. It scared him to think that she was there and if he played his cards right, he could be with her. Scared him. The virtually indestructible Wolverine was scared of being with a perfect, beautiful girl. He shook his head and called to the barmaid. He tried to remember her name, but he couldn’t. It was Vicky or Nikki or something like that.

Now nursing a beer and a whiskey chaser, he didn’t feel any better. He checked his watch; Scott would be about 15 minutes to pick him up and then he would be home, home to Marie. Now it would be worse because he wouldn’t have any excuses not to pursue her. She had always been old enough, she had certainly always been together enough, and now she was single enough.

He would be back to looking at her and thinking dirty thoughts about having her pale, toned legs wrapped around him, and her delicate glove-less hands buried in his hair. On second thought, if he was honest in his dreams or fantasies, she always had gloves on, usually nothing else. Just a simple pair of short black leather gloves and miles of pale deadly skin.

He couldn’t help thinking about her like that. He was an extremely sexual person, and if he didn’t have sex or jerk off at least twice in one day, it affected his whole attitude. Marie had picked up on it once; she had gotten fed up with his testy behaviour and had practically pushed him out the door to go and get laid before he disembowelled one of the students.

Little did she know that she was the one he would truly like to be buried to the hilt in, and that every time he did get laid it was the memory of her scent that got him off. And it was, every, single, time. He would bury his nose in a woman’s hair and cum like a freight train.

He couldn’t even pinpoint what the hell he was scared of. He hated it when he was home, and he had to watch her get kissed or touched intimately by Bobby and then Santo, or he accidentally heard her having sex with one of them, which had happened on two occasions. Both times, he had ended up dead drunk and passed out in ‘Ro’s greenhouse.

So now, when he didn’t have to suffer that, he didn’t want to go back. Like it was easier knowing that she had someone. Easier knowing that he simply *couldn’t* have her rather than her not wanting him. And there it was. Rejection. He was scared that she would reject him, that in the end it wouldn’t be any of his downfalls or shortcomings - and he had enough of them. It would simply be that she didn’t want him.

When she was a kid, the ‘kid’, he knew she felt for him. That she would look at him with hope and openness in her eyes, ready to give him anything whenever he desired to ask for it. But now he also knew that it was just because he had been the one to save her life. Even she had admitted that one drunken night that they’d had.

He slid his fourth empty bottle away from him and downed his chaser. He felt more depressed than he had a couple of hours ago. Yes, he had finally come to realise what his big problem with going home was. Only thing was, it didn’t make him feel any better about going home; it made it worse.

The bar door opened and shut again. The cool breeze that swept in briefly brought a familiar scent to Logan’s nostrils, and he smiled as he threw a couple of bills on the bar. The sound of expensive leather shoes on the hardwood floor made him turn. Hank shook his hand with a brilliant smile. He was wearing a full trench coat and hat to cover his appearance.

“So, finally ready to come home?”

He chuckled at his friend’s easy manner with him. “Yeah. Let’s blow this joint!” He winked at the barmaid on the way out the door. She huffed and crossed her arms in front of her ample chest, obviously annoyed that he hadn’t given her a parting ‘gift’.

Once he had the bike and his duffel loaded onto the jet, he strapped in next to Hank, and he took off easily. The jet’s stealth made it impossible for local authorities to even know they were there in the first place. The ride home was filled with idle chit-chat about school schedules and danger room sessions. Hank told Logan that the last week Pete had covered his phys-ed classes and Scott had covered his danger rooms sessions. Debate-101 didn’t start for another week yet.

Scott had apparently asked Hank to pick him up instead, because he needed to chaperone some kids somewhere. He listened to Hank, nodded and agreed in the right places, but Hank could tell Logan wasn’t really paying that much attention. And he also noticed that the closer to the mansion they got, the more jittery Logan got.

When they landed, he went to get off the Bird, and Hank held onto his arm to stop him. “There was nothing wrong with the motorcycle or the weather, was there?”

Logan sighed and rubbed his hand over his face tiredly. “No.” He sat back in his sat with a defeated thump. “I’m just tired, Hank.”

“Tired? Logan please don’t insult my intelligence. This is much more than just being tired. Something is seriously bothering you, and it has something to do with being at home.” He seemed to think for a moment then leaned forward and put his hand on Logan’s arm. “Did you go to Alkali Lake again?”

He smiled at Hank’s concern. “No, stopped doing that a long time ago. I just… I don’t know. I’m just frustrated.”

He sat up straight again. “Frustrated… with what?”

Logan stared at Hank’s face for a beat or two, trying to decide whether to tell him the truth or not. “Fuck it.” He stood up and paced around the front of the jet while he spoke to him quickly. “Have you ever been so close to something you want, and then be scared that if you take the risk to get it, that thing isn’t going to want you?”

Smiling a knowing smile, Hank moved his seat round to face him. “I’m assuming that the ‘thing’ you’re are referring to is a woman?” Logan nodded grimly. “Well, yes, I have felt like that. And to my shame, I’ve never acted on it. So I know your ‘frustration’, how that feels.” He dropped his head.

“Who?” Logan sat down with him again.

“Between us?”

Logan smiled and nodded. “You have my word.”

“The lovely Miss Kitty Pryde.”

Logan snorted. “You’re kidding?” How long for god’s sake?”

“A long long time. I’ve always been too afraid that she’ll turn me down, say she couldn’t or wouldn’t want to be with me. So I’ve never said anything, just …let it go. Now of course she’s is engaged to Robert.” He sighed and smiled. “So… who?”

“Uh…” Logan rubbed the back of his neck, trying to squirm out of it.

“Come on!”

“Rogue.”

Hank laughed. “Well, that wasn’t predictable at all!”

“What do ya mean?”

“Come now, Logan, a blind man could see how you feel about her. You’re always with her, you’re partners on missions, drinking buddies, and well you’re… connected somehow. Two parts to the puzzle. Not to mention the fact that your friendship is the only relationship either of you seem capable of holding onto. That has to count for something.”

He got up again, put his jacket on, and then turned back to his friend. “So what do I do?”

“I don’t think I’m the best person to give advice. I’ve sat on my hands for the past, God, years!”

He really felt for Hank; Logan had felt like this for the past year or so. He knew how holding onto those kinds of feelings could make you sad. “How about we both do something about it?”

“Logan, I couldn’t.” Shock and fear was mingling into his scent. “It could ruin everything that I hold dear. I couldn’t do that. I would rather be her friend than …than nothing!”

“I know, me too, but I can’t go on like this. I can’t keep lying to myself about I feel and running away.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I’ve spent half a lifetime running from anything and everything, determined to stay alone, searching for a load of stuff that has mostly turned out to be awful. Then I spent nearly three years running from my own damn grief. I’m sick of running, Hank. I don’t ever want to feel like I did earlier, sitting in that downtrodden shithole of a bar, absolutely dreading seeing someone who I…” He stopped and stared at Hank, his mouth hanging open.

“Say it.”

“Someone I love.” He put his hands on his hips. “Fuck, I love her. Fuck!”

“Guess I’m kind of tired of being alone as well.” They both laughed. “She is seeing someone else though, and I couldn’t spoil things for her.”

Logan smiled knowingly. “Hank, listen, Bobby is not the faithful type he’s proved that before. It’s just a matter of time before he does it again. I say test the water with Kitty, flirt a little, don’t look at me like that, I know you can.”

“I don’t know. It’s just such a …a risk.”

“I’ll take it if you will?”

“I need to think about this a little more. I can’t just jump into things.”

“’Kay, come on. Let’s get in and get a late lunch.”

In the end, he decided to skip lunch. He dumped his bag in his room and went to make sure the bike was parked up in the garage. As he was walking back into the main doors, Marie was flying out.

She saw him and launched into a hug, his nose instantly in her hair, breathing her in like she was air. “Hey!”

“So you miss me, kid?” He reluctantly let her go.

She smiled and turned her head to the side slightly, as if having to think about her answer. “Nah, not really!” It was an age-old script that they both had; it reminded them of how their friendship started.

They laughed, and she swatted him on the arm. “It took you long enough to get home. ‘Ro and Scotty boy have been spitting bullets with your name on!”

“Gotta keep them on their toes. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

She shivered a little and did up the zip of her coat. He noticed and suppressed a growl at the way the zip rose and bunched her breasts together as it did. “Library in town. The school internet connections are down, and I need to download a load of Monet stuff for a class tomorrow.”

Logan looked at his watch. “It’s getting late. What time do they close, for heaven’s sake?”

“The main library stays open until midnight, so I probably won’t be back till then. So how about you, what you been up to?”

“Same old, same old. Stayed in the cabin most of this time, but got a few drinks and the odd fight on the way back.”

“And the odd woman, no doubt.”

He smirked. “Maybe. You know me.” He was right. She did know him, but she didn’t know how he felt, and eventually he had to start letting her know.

“Yeah, sugar, I do.”

“What about you? You ok with the Santo thing?”

She smiled and nodded. “O-God, I am so over it! I didn’t realise just how much the guy pissed me off. I mean, be a man for God’s sake! Hey, listen, how ‘bout tomorrow we get some beers in and have ourselves a ‘Welcome home, Logan’ party?”

He chuckled. “Sounds good, darlin’.” He hugged her again, and she ran off to her VW, then waved at him as she pulled out of the main gate. He watched her go and then went to his room for a hot shower and bed. He knew he wouldn’t sleep until he heard her car pull back into the garage, but he didn’t mind. That tight hug had given him plenty of things to think about.

Rogue parked her car in the main parking lot of the library and got out, locking the car and putting the keys in her jacket. She never had a chance to step away from the car, cry out, or even struggle. The blow to the back of her head was hard, fast and accurate. She slumped against her car and then slid to the ground.

“Johnny really, anyone would think you enjoyed that.” Mystique laughed as Pyro dropped the baseball bat to the floor and smirked dangerously at her.

“Who me?” They both laughed as they picked up Marie and loaded her into the back of a dark blue van, speeding out of the library parking lot and into the cold night.

*************END OF PART ONE
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