Logan had never been one for early mornings and when he heard a knock at his door at seven am, he promptly growled.
He growled because he hated being disturbed so early and, more importantly, the dream he had been having was interrupted just when the going was getting good.
Swearing that whoever was on the other side of that door was just asking for a beating, he plopped out of bed and put on a pair of sweats. He ambled over to the door and opened it with an annoyed, "What?"
To say that he was surprised to see her there would have been an understatement. It wasn't everyday he woke up to the girl of his dreams. But there she was, in the flesh. And what the hell was she doing, exposing so much of it? He frowned. There was a thin scarf around her neck, but little else protected her. Her dress was thin, and short and exposed long legs. He could see she was wearing stockings, but that didn't make things any better.
"Mornin', Logan," she said, sweet smile pasted on her pretty face.
Something akin to a response rumbled from his chest. She merely continued to smile, making her way past him and into his bedroom. Uh oh.
"What're you doing?" he asked, not yet ready to turn around, to face her and his bed in the same room.
"I thought we could go to breakfast together. If you wanted to, of course." She hopped onto the bed. "Or, we could stay here."
He shook his head, affecting disapproval. "Breakfast it is. Just gimme a chance to get dressed, will you?"
"All right," she replied, but she wasn't moving.
He scowled. "What? Do you want to watch?"
Why was she grinning so damn much? "Sure."
Sighing, he moved to sit next to her on the bed. "Look, it's probably my fault. I wasn't too clear on things last night--"
"No," she interrupted. "You weren't. But I believe I was." She put a gloved hand on his shoulder. He jerked at the contact. Seeing this, she removed her hand carefully and shook her head. "If it's not what you want ... I just thought, I thought we had an understanding."
"Understanding," he muttered. "If you knew what you were asking. I just think that you don't. That you're not ready for it."
Turning to face him, she deliberately placed a hand on his thigh. For a second, they both looked at it, neither of them quite breathing right. "I am, Logan," she whispered.
He moved quickly, before either of them had a chance to think about it. He grabbed her hand and dragged it up over her head. He pushed her back into the bed, so that he was looming over her, his breath coming in short bursts. He could see she wasn't breathing at all. His hands encircled her waist and squeezed. The air in Rogue's lungs was finally expelled in one long hiss. "You don't know what you're getting into, Rogue."
Her shuttered eyes were staring at him intently. "I want to find out."
He looked away from her, partly because the look in her eyes was doing funny things to him. His gaze shifted to her exposed legs. He ran an appreciative eye up and down their length. "I can't give you anything more," he said, instantly regretting his words, still knowing they were true.
Her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in closer. "I know," she replied. "That's all I want."
His eyes narrowed because, suddenly, things felt very wrong. "I don't want to take advantage of you."
Opening wide, dark eyes, she shook her head. "You're not. You won't." Her mouth was suddenly very dry. "I'm a big girl, Logan."
His heart skipped a beat when he saw her tongue move out to wet her lips. This was trouble, he knew. He suddenly realized how the tables had turned. Here he'd been warning her that she didn't know what she was getting into when, in reality, he was the one losing control.
Moving down, he carefully placed his head over her chest. He could hear her heartbeat, strong and a little fast. He wanted to offer her the moon right then. And he almost did, but he felt her hand move over his hair, the leathery feel of her glove jerking him back into reality. He couldn't even offer himself. He could only offer the simplest of touches; maybe that'd be enough.
He kissed her then, over her beating heart. She let out a little gasp, shocked and amazed at the feel of his warm, moist mouth through the fabric of her dress. He pulled back, and gazed upon her visage. The storm brewing in her eyes brought a small smile to Logan's face. The simplest of touches.
Rolling away from her, he took her hand in his and pulled her to her feet. "Come on, kid," he teased, knowing her reaction to the now familiar term. "We have a breakfast date. And I have to get dressed."
The edge of her mouth quirked up as she said, "So, can I watch?"
An involuntary bark of laughter escaped his mouth. When had she become so brazen? Goddammit, he almost considered letting her. Instead, he replied, "Naw. Let's leave it for another time, all right? I'll put on a show."
Eyebrow raised, the aptly-named Rogue simply said, "A show, huh? Well, maybe I'll put one on, too. Like a strip tease: look but don't touch." Small smile playing upon her lips, she quietly exited the room. That left Logan with a very vivid mental image, and the decision that a short, cold shower might not be a bad idea before he went down to breakfast. Not a bad idea at all.
Jean caught up to Rogue as she walked past the laboratory. "Hi, Rogue. How're you feeling?"
"Oh, hi, Jean. I'm fine. Thank you."
Jean's brow furrowed in confusion, "Are you? I'm glad. I just thought you might want to further discuss what happened yesterday. That it might help you. But, you do look all right. Can I ask what happened?"
Rogue shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I just decided not to dwell on it so much. Thought I should seize the day or something."
"What do you mean 'seize the day'?"
Smiling, Rogue let out a small giggle and shrugged again. "Just, I don't know, not be such a slave to my emotions. Take things as they come, you know?"
That stopped Jean dead in her tracks. She wasn't smiling when she said, "Emotions are dangerous things, Rogue. It's easy to say we're going to ignore them, but they always come up. They're part of who we are."
Rogue's expression sobered when she saw how serious Jean appeared. "I know what I'm doing. You don't have to worry about me."
Nodding, Jean replied, "I know. I just wanted to give you advice. As a friend. Don't try to ignore or change your feelings. It's not possible, Rogue."
Rogue looked away from the older woman as she said, "Isn't that what you've done? Ignore your feelings?"
Jean remained impassive. "Excuse me?"
Turning again to face Jean, a look of anger flashed across Rogue's face. "With Logan? Isn't that what you've done? Ignore your feelings? Not wavering, the telepath replied, "You know nothing about my feelings."
"I've seen the way you look at him. When you think Scott's not looking."
"That's unfair, Rogue."
"I know it is. So, I'm going to take what I can. If he can't love me the way he loves you, then I'll let him love me the way he can. I deserve at least that much." That said Rogue hurriedly walked away.
Showered and fully dressed, Logan was finishing preparing to go to the dining area when he heard a knock at his door.
Smiling, he called out, "I told you, the strip show's going to have to wait -- " The grin disappeared when he saw the woman on the other side. "Jean."
"Logan. Can I come in?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure, come on in." Any other time, Logan would have relished the idea of Jean Grey in his room. Her demeanor, however, warned that hers was not a social visit. "What can I do for you?"
"What are you doing, Logan?"
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
"What kind of game are you playing with Rogue?"
"No game."
"Logan -- "
"No game," he repeated, raising his voice.
She sighed. "Then just what's going on?"
"Nothing that's any of your business, red," he retorted angrily.
"I'm making it my business, because I care for Rogue. And for you," she added. "But in the end, odds are she's going to be the one getting hurt."
"No one's getting hurt. We're being straight with each other."
"All right," she pronounced exasperatedly. "You're being straight with each other. Did you ever stop to think that she might be hearing one thing, and thinking quite another?"
"I'm not lying," he replied emphatically.
"I know you're not." The tone of her voice softened with the practiced ease of a mind reader. "But in the end -- "
He cut her off, using the same tone of voice, he said, " In the end nothing. Don't worry so much Jean. I'm handling it. It won't get out of hand. All right? It's just something I want to do for her. It might sound cheap to you, but it's not. I care for her, and she needs some affection. She needs to be touched. That's all this is. I'm providing affection to a friend."
The look she gave him suggested Jean wasn't entirely convinced, but she let the matter drop. "Going down to breakfast?"
He nodded, glad to see the interrogation was over. "Yeah, wanna come?"
Smiling slightly, she replied, "Sure. I could use some food."
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