Logan's voice. His voice was all I could hear. I couldn't make out the words. I was pretty sure that if this was me dead, it was going to be pretty boring. Was I dead? Things flashed through my mind: The mission, the hospital, the fight, my parents, Mystique, a knife, lots of pain. I didn't feel pain. I didn't really feel anything. Then, new images started bombarding my head. I could barely make out most of them. My teammates, standing around me. Lots of yelling, and then, love. Desperation, more love. Fear, more love. Memories that weren't mine came flooding into my mind. All of Logan. Logan's memories. He was asking where I went. He was running, screaming my name. He was listening to Storm tell him she found me. Bring Jean. She's hurt. He was looking at me, covered in blood, in a dirty ally. I looked bad. I looked....dead. He was pushing everyone aside. Grabbing my face. "Come on, baby, come on. Her skin's not working. Turn it on, baby. Come on." I felt his pain as everything he had inside him rushed into my dying body. I slowly opened my eyes. God, it was bright. Where was I? I turned my head to the sound of a pen gliding across paper. Jean, writing in a chart. I wiggled my body. I moaned softly. I felt like the last degree of nasty. Jean came towards me. She was smiling.

"Hey, honey. Welcome back. We were worried there for awhile." She had on gloves and she was brushing my hair back from my forehead.

"Logan? Where is he? Is he alright? Tell me he's ok." Tears were flowing down my cheeks.

"He's going to be fine. He's not awake, yet, but he'll heal."

"How long have I been.....?"

"Three days. You lost a lot of blood. Logan's healing ability had to fight hard to mend your wounds. What do you remember?" I spent the next hour telling her the entire story. By the time it was over, I was mentally and physically drained. I went back to sleep. When I woke again, I was still in the med lab. I gathered all my concentration and switched my skin off. Even that hurt. I slid off the bed and made my way to Logan. He was still in a coma. I crawled up and laid my head on his chest. I fell back into a deep sleep as I listened to the strong beat of his heart.

I woke up to a strong hand rubbing my arm and lips brushing across my forehead. I tilted my head up to see Logan's eyes, wide open and looking at me. I smiled at him and kissed his lips. He tasted and felt so good. Before either of us could speak, Jean and the Professor came in the door.

"Welcome back both of you. We've missed you." The Professor's face was smiling and warm. We launched into a debriefing of all we'd missed the past four days. Mutant kid safe, check. Protesters dispersed, check. Hospital safe, check. No word on Mystique or Magneto, but they had petitioned the government about the whole 'mutant country' thing. Scary part was, it was a well-received idea. It could actually happen.

Logan and I were forced to stay in the med lab for two more days in the name of observation. All the issues about our romantic relationship were either set aside for our sake, or nobody really gave a damn anymore. Our friends teammates, and students visited us throughout the day, and at night we curled up together to just watch a movie or sleep. It was, to my disappointment, very platonic. I tried kissing him once, but he pulled back and mumbled something about me wiping him out. I hoped that when we were released back into general population, things would change. Finally, Jean gave the go-ahead and we walked out of the med-lab, healed and with a clean bill of health for the both of us. He walked me to my door, told me to get some rest, and proceeded to walk away. I stood and stared at his back, dumbstruck. He slipped into his room and closed the door. Suddenly I was pissed. I stalked after him and banged on the door as hard as I could. He swung it open, and gave me a questioning look>

"Logan! What the fuck!" He grabbed my arm and dragged me into his room, slamming the door behind him.

"What your mouth, kid! I thought I told you to get some rest." He ran his hands through his hair as he paced back and forth.

"I don't need anymore fucking rest," I could feel his personality overtaking my words. "I need to be with you. And not just like we have been." I knew he caught my drift when his head snapped up.

"No, that is not what you need. You took a lot of me. That's just what you think you need. I know because I think that's what I need, too." His voice was so low and so sexy, I was instantly aroused.

"Maybe that is exactly what we need. I nearly died, Logan. You nearly died bringing me back. Can you think of any better way to feel alive right now?" I had walked to the door and clicked the lock in place. I didn't know what he would do, but I knew what I wanted him to do. I stayed facing the door when suddenly, I was spun around and slammed up against. Logan's mouth was on mine, and he was rough with it. The kiss was ferocious. I could taste his frustration, want, and maybe even a bit of anger. I loved it.

I kissed him back with the same fierce passion he was giving to me. I nipped at his lips with my teeth, which earned me a vicious and spine-tingling thrust of his hips. More, I wanted more. I yanked at his shirt until he lifted his arms and I tossed it aside. I'd never been so glad to be wearing little sundress. He pulled the shoulder straps down and began to ravish my breasts, I was moaning and still needed to have more of him. With my fingers working with amazing dexterity, I undid his belt and pants, pushing them down, and grabbing at his ass to pull him closer against my body. With a low growl he cupped my ass and lifted me up so I could feel him against my wetness. He grabbed my panties and tore them away with a tearing sound. He stopped for a second and looked at me. I was done waiting.

"Logan, Yes! Now!" I probably had yelled that out a bit loud, but I really didn't care.

There were no preliminaries left. With one single, hard thrust, he was deep inside me and I cried out at the feeling. "Ohmygod! Logan!" My head snapped back and hit the door, but I didn't care. I tightened my legs around his waist so his thighs and his poor, creaking door was taking on my weight. His breathing was ragged and harsh and his mouth was everywhere, and everywhere in a hurry. He kept pounding into me, deeper and longer. I knew I was pushing him beyond his control, and it just made me hotter.

"Harder, Logan, harder, please!" I was inciting him to lose even more control, and that he did. He thrusting inside me, against me, and with me as I tried to bite, scratch, kiss, suck any inch of his skin I could reach. I felt the skin under my nails as I raked them down his back. He moaned loudly and just went even harder and faster. The door was rattling and I just hoped it could hold up a little longer. I begged him for more. I begged him to make it hurt. I was a masochist. I loved the wildness of him, I loved how he was showing my body no mercy. It was selfish, and primitive. Noisy, and sweaty. We came together in a climax so powerful, I think it may have shook the entire mansion. We were out of breath and still shaking against the door when he spoke against my neck.

"I'm sorry. Are you OK? Did I hurt you much? I lost control, I shouldn't have." He looked into my eyes with concern.

"Nope, I am beyond OK. I. Am. Fantastic. I guess I really needed that." I couldn't stop smiling. I felt amazing.

"Yeah, me too. How 'bout we give the door a break do that again on the bed?" He jerked his head back towards that big, inviting bed. I could feel him, still inside me, getting hard all over again. I groaned with anticipation.

"Oh, yes. Let's do that again." I laughed as he stayed inside me and walked over to the bed. When we laid down, he kissed my mouth deeply, slowly. I was squirming underneath him. I pressed my hips up to encourage him to move. Finally, after I started begging him to stop teasing me, he finally moved. We moaned in unison as he pushed in and out of me. I vaguely wondered how loud we were being. I wondered if our moans were carrying out to the hall. I decided when he began to suck and nip at one of my nipples I really didn't care. He made love to me slowly, torturously, until I was begging him to finish me off all over again. He kept me on the edge, and I was begging him to let me come. When he finally did, I almost sobbed with pleasure. He finally collapsed on top of me and we stayed that way, breathing hard and still moaning with the aftershocks of such intense lovemaking.

I knew we had a lot to talk about, we hadn't really talked about what had happened at the hospital, yet. But, for now, all I wanted to do was stay as we were, wrapped up in each other. I wanted to just stay in bed and screw until we starved. We both drifted off to sleep and the last thing I remembered was him mumbling "I love you". He probably thought it was too low for me to hear it, but I did. I smiled and fell into a deep sleep. I briefly thought that the next time I saw Jubilee, I'd have to thank her for her big mouth and for her one little comment that somehow had brought me here.