Author's Chapter Notes:
Don't know if this is making any more sense to you. One more chappie to go.
At first when she opened the present she had thought it a mistake. Simple mishap in the shop while wrapping the presents, since Jean was holding a pair of very girlish mittens and a cap whereas she found a sensual silk robe from under the colorful wrappings. She took it out, held it and closed her eyes, already envious for the other woman. Cool silk felt heavenly against her skin, almost as if it were water, or… Bare skin?

When she felt somebody watching her she opened her eyes and scanned the crowd in the room, slightly ashamed of her behavior. When she met Logan’s pleased gaze she knew. It wasn’t a mishap. The robe really was for her, not for Jean.

Logan was on the other side of the room, his form partially hidden in the shadows. She wasn’t so sure of how to thank him properly. Was this his way of telling her that he wasn’t embarrassed of her crush on him? Or… Or even more? Would she dare to hope that… No. Not likely.

She let out the smile that had been bubbling inside of her from the moment she saw the first glimpse of the forest green silk from underneath the wrappings and mouthed words ‘thank you’ for Logan who just nodded.

She left the room, now exited, eager to try on the robe.

On her way to her room she started thinking of what would Logan think of her present for him. She hadn’t had much money to spend. Would he think her present as something ordinary? Something dull and easily forgotten?

She had spent several days wandering in and out from shops and boutiques, trying to find something, anything for him that would tell him how much he meant for her. She had briefly mused over box of fine cigars, then an expensive bottle of aged whiskey. She had even looked for jewelry of sorts, silver chain with small silver guardian angel figurine on it. Hunter’s knife she had discarded quickly, he wouldn’t have the use for it.

She had finally decided to buy him a practical gift instead of meaningful. She knew perfectly well that come the new year he’d be gone. Back on the road. Somewhere far north, searching for his life. She had gotten him thermal underwear after asking from Jean the right size, and a big, sturdy thermos, hoping he would find them useful on his long and cold journey.

Back in her room she discarded her clothes. Thick denim and cotton, sensible and neat. Practical. Geared to protect those around her. Silk robe, light as air waited on the bed as she stretched and turned, enjoying the feel of bareness. Let her hands skim her sides and stomach ever so lightly, closing her eyes. It wasn’t often she had the chance to do this.

Soon she could hear the siren’s call of the robe. Sinful, luxurious, forbidden. Sheer, light and airy. Dangerous. And all hers. Silk was soft and cool against her already heated flesh. Cool and clingy, but it warmed up quickly, turning again warm and gentle as… Would his hands be warm? Gentle? Would his skin caress hers as the silk did? Would he caress and love the way she wanted?

She really didn’t want to find the answer to those questions. She left her room before they came more persistent.

Carpet was soft under her bare feet. Dark wooden paneling on the walls was sturdy and unyielding as she leaned against it, feeling the decorative engravings against her back. Silk was so sheer that it almost felt as if there was nothing between her and the age-old wood. When she closed her eyes she could almost feel even the single grains underneath her, each and every one of them singing their own tune, reverberating silently, answering to the call of her skin.

She continued wandering around. The robe was almost translucent in the moonlight that filtered in through the numerous windows. A silvery ray laid cold kisses on her, feeding the flame that was steadily burning inside of her.

She could hear voices from downstairs. Short tidbits of conversations. Silent laughter. Clinking of glasses. Paper rustling.

She continued further down the corridor, rubbing against the walls and furniture, trying and testing different materials and surfaces. Everything felt good. None of it felt right. None of it was quite what she was looking for.

When she came to the door of his room, door to Logan’s private world she didn’t hesitate. She turned the knob, expecting it to be locked. Instead the knob turned easily and the door swung open to grant her access.

She stepped in, instantly knowing she would find what she was looking for from here.

His scent, and the strange, yet pleasant but rapidly fading feeling of his skin were strongest on his bed. She lay on top of the covers and closed her eyes. Surrendered to the inferno inside of her and let it feed. Drew in everything and anything within her reach, falling to peaceful slumber when the flickering flames started to ebb.

She was only partially aware of him. He was there, a good, solid presence holding her. Cold metal, blood, bone, muscle and skin. And she knew, just knew that he’d be there as long as she wanted, as long as she needed.
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