I smiled before looking over my shoulder to see the source of the growl. I knew it was him before I saw him, before what he read annoyed him enough to get all growly about it. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up and the shiver down my spine wouldn't relent. Then he growled.
So I smiled my sweetest smile and looked up at his face. He needed to shave, said an unwanted voice in my head - the same voice who said he needed to be dipped in a tub of Nair, just on principle - but I shoved it away and basked for a moment in the annoyed scowl of my currently pissy muse.
"Yes?"
"Sa-re," he growled out and there went that tingling right back up my spine. "You're making me out to be a wuss."
I looked him up and down from my lower position, sitting in the study cubicle, as if I were thinking my writing was justified. He clenched his fists and I know he did it to relieve some of the itch on his knuckles. And now, I knew he really was mad.
It's really not a good idea to have your muse genuinely pissed at you. Bad. Things. Happen.
I put down my pen and turned around on the microbench I'd been writing at so I was leaning against one of the walls, facing him. I curled up as well as I could, being in a tight space, wearing Docs and not weighing 90 pounds. I motioned that he should grab a chair and he was back almost instantly. Turning it around he straddled it backwards and leaned in so he really wasn't that far away and well within my personal space.
He stared at me, his not-entirely-dark eyes drilling into mine before he spoke, low, blending into the silence we were supposed to be keeping. "Make it good, Sare. Make it real good."
I swallowed hard and then thought better and glared right back at him.
"You love Marie, doncha Logan?"
"Yea. So. No reason to act like a pussy."
"True. But you do love her. You wanna protect her, provide for her, be with her, right?"
"Yea. But not act like a pussy."
"No, of course not. But you don't want to hurt her, and you do want to understand her, and… you want to fuck her, right?"
There was the feral grin I love so much.
"Funny you should mention that, Sare. You been teasin' and teasin' me every which way from Sunday. You're beginning to make me think bad things. So, I gotta ask: Where's the sex, Sare? Hm? When do I get to fuck my Marie?"
I smiled my little smile, knowing I had him back where I wanted him.
"Believe it or not, Logan, everyone pretty much still thinks you're a bad ass and would pale if they heard someone call you a pussy. Marie certainly doesn't think you're a pussy. I don't think you're a pussy. Scott is a pussy, so - "
"Sex, Sare. Get your ass back to the sex."
"Right," I smiled. "Sorry. Well, I was thinking of starting off hot and heavy, but light, like a dream sequence."
He was back to staring again, but his hands weren't in fists and even though his body was still tense, I knew it had nothing to do with anger.
"Which?"
"You tell me. I was thinking about the one where she's got that school uniform on - you know, the kind Xavier doesn't actually have - but I don't know which way to go from there. I mean, we could use the forest one, or the one of the motorcycle, or the one in the hotel room, or in the bar - cage, booth, which ever - or on Xavier's desk, or the one in the medlab, or the snow, or the cabin, or the - " but before I could continue on with the quite lengthy list he cut me off again.
"The forest with the motorcycle. And the cage."
I raised my eyebrows and grinned. "Nice choices. The cage is enough to make anyone blush."
He shrugged in a non-committal yet self-satisfied way.
"There'll be more than just that of course, and yes eventually you'll have her in your bed, in the flesh, but not just yet, alright?"
"I don't see why not now."
"Angst, Logan. There isn't enough angst yet."
"Bullshit, girl. I see what you're writing. You can't pull that shit with me and you know it."
"Well, yes, after that there will be enough angst, but if you see what I'm writing you know that that particular part is far from what's being posted right now." I smiled, looking at the time. "You'll get your sex and lots of it. I mean, come on Logan, this is me you're talking to, or haven't you bumped into Angel lately?"
That feral wolfish grin graced his face. "Now there's a pussy," he said, watching me get my things together.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my jacket.
"Don't get me started," I replied, walking with my muse to my next class.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
No plot bunnies were harmed during the enactment of this telling. The reason *for* the happenings below can be happened around the second page of the ninth part of the fic 'Logan Returns', written by me. I tell you, the damnedest things happen when I sit in the fourth floor of the graduate library, least of which are things dealing directly with academia.