He’d spent the rest of the weekend settling back into life at the school and making his presence both known and felt by the mansion’s residents, and in particular by the newest young protégée, Rogue.

Her lingering glances and shy hellos whenever she crossed his path told him his efforts hadn't gone unnoticed. On Monday afternoon, he finally found her alone, away from the gaggle of clucking females that usually surrounded her, and decided to go in for the kill.

He spotted her – scented her out, actually – hidden deep in the library, between the tall stacks, her nose buried deep in a book as she stood, fully absorbed in the text before her. He took a quick moment to make sure the adjacent stacks were empty before approaching her quietly from behind.

“Hey, kid,” he said into her hair.

She gasped loudly and jumped, the top of her head hitting Logan square in the jaw and jamming his teeth up into his tongue.

“Ow!” Logan brought a hand up to his mouth as daggers of pain shot down his tongue. The salty tang of blood stung at his taste-buds. Rogue spun around, a hand pressed to her bumped head.

“Omigosh, are you okay?” she whispered.

Logan nodded. “You?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, rubbing her head. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

“Sorry.” He held out his hand. “I’m Logan.”

She looked at his hand for a moment, then up at him, her eyes wide, deep, and brown. Her gloved hands clutched tighter around her book, pulling it closer into her chest.

“I know,” she said.

She blinked, unmoving.

“Right...” Logan pocketed his hand again. He leaned in ever so slightly, enjoying the very slight flutter he detected in her heartbeat as he did. “So what kind of a name is Rogue?”

“A better one than ‘kid’,” she said. “And anyway, what kind of a name is ‘Wolverine’?”

“Fair enough,” he said, shrugging. She had funny looking teeth. Not bad-funny, just...funny. Goddamn if they weren’t framed by the most interesting set of pink lips that he’d seen in a long time, though. A full bottom lip that all but begged to be gently nibbled, and a luscious upper lip that curled into a perfect cupid’s bow...

She was right about one thing...there was nothing about her that said ‘kid’. Finally making a close-up assessment of her, he could easily see the womanly curves that she tried unsuccessfully to hide beneath her bizarre, layered style.

Her legs, though not particularly long, were slender, shapely and toned, even beneath her dark tights. Well-rounded hips drew up into a taut waist and a flat, tight tummy. She wore no scarf today, and the way she held her book against her chest made her already healthy-looking breasts look like two warm pillows as they peeked out from the top of her blouse.

“Whatcha readin’?” he asked her. Before she could answer, he took the book from her, noting the sharp increase in her body temperature as his fingers brushed over her clothed breasts. He turned the book over and scanned the words on the page until a particular passage caught his eye. He murmured the words aloud as he read.

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

Logan flipped the book over and looked at the title. “Romeo and Juliet. Sounds like some pretty racy stuff. What’s it about?”

Rogue looked up at him blankly.

“Well, it’s...it’s Romeo and Juliet. Shakespeare...?”

She looked at him disbelievingly when he didn’t respond. “Have you been living under a rock for the past, like, couple of centuries?” she asked.

“Don’t know,” Logan said. He tapped a finger to his head. “Can’t remember.”

Realization dawned on her face as she processed his words.

“Oh,” she said, visibly letting her guard down. Yeah, he could always count on that to gain him a few empathy points. “Well...it’s...a story – a play – about two teenagers who meet and fall in love...or lust...and—”

“Well, which is it?” Logan asked, interrupting.

She looked at him, confused. “Oh, it’s definitely a play. See? If you look at the text you can see the stage dir-"

Logan exhaled.

“I meant love or lust, Rogue.” He nodded toward the book, which she now had back in her hand. “Sounds like you’re not sure what really went down between those two.”

“Oh that. Well, yeah...that’s the topic of my essay, actually. Whether the ‘great romance’ between them was based on true love or merely...lust.”

“Hm.” Logan stepped in closer to her. “What do you think it was?”

Rogue looked up at him. “I...I’m not sure, really."

“Well you must have a theory,” he said. “What’s your theory?”

He was standing so close to her now that he could feel the warmth of her body through the layers of clothes between them. He reached an arm up and leaned it against the bookstack, closing her into his space.

“Well...um...” Her eyes flickered to his arm, then back to his face. She smiled nervously. “Given that they only knew each other a few days...” her eyes were roaming over his clothed chest. Logan smiled internally as her breath sped up a notch. “...and just a few hours before meeting Juliet, Romeo was mooning over another woman...” Her eyes met his again as she flushed brightly all over. “...I guess I would have to say that it was just...lust.”

“Interesting,” Logan said.

“What?” Rogue looked around discreetly, making sure no one was hearing their conversation.

“The way you talk about lust,” he said. “Almost like it’s a bad thing.”

She looked up at him as he spoke, her gaze steady yet visibly affected, obviously aware that they were no longer talking about the book.

“The way I see it, darlin’, lust is pure as pure can be,” Logan whispered. “No ego. No pretense. Just...honest, animal attraction.”

He could hear her breath speeding up even more in her chest as he spoke. She tried to back up as he continued to close the space between them, only to be blocked by the bookshelf behind her. He studied her scent as she looked up at him.

“You done class?” he asked her. She nodded, wide-eyed.

“Whaddya say we get away from this place for a while?” he said. “We can go and grab a couple of, uh...milkshakes.” He’d wanted to say beers, until he suddenly remembered her age. “You can tell me some more about your book.”

He lingered a little on that last word, letting his gaze drift down to the novel she clutched against her chest. Her blush deepened as his eyes raked over her form. When his eyes met hers again, she was biting her lip, an otherwise innocent action that all the same managed to send an unexpected thump through his groin. She opened her mouth as though to say ‘okay’, then straightened up as she visibly changed her mind.

“I...no thanks,” she said.

He was genuinely puzzled. “Why not?”

“I...” Rogue clutched the book against her, the fabric of her gloves stretching tightly across her knuckles as she dug her fingers into the cover. Logan watched her as she thought up an excuse. “I...I have to help Jubilee reconfigure her hard disk, and then I’m competing in a World of Warcraft RPG tournament.”

He blinked at her. “I don’t understand half of what you just said.”

“Look, I’m just...busy, alright?” she said. “Thank you, though.”

Her gaze flickered downward as she stepped out of his space. Logan turned and watched as she swished away, leaving him alone in the stacks.

“Fuck her yet?”

Logan just about spat the water he was drinking all over the dinner table.

“Christ, Jeannie, you kiss that boy-scout fiance of yours with that mouth?” He thought back to the way she’d been barely able to form her mouth around the word ‘bang’ only a few days before. “And anyway, you’re the telepath. You tell me.”

Jean glanced discreetly over to the table where Rogue was sitting with her friends.

“Well, what’s taking so long?” she asked, a smirk quivering at her lips. “I thought the Wolverine had this super amazing panty-melting power that no woman could resist.” She waved her fingers through the air as she said it, as though casting an imaginary spell.

“She wanted to say yes,” Logan said, talking more to himself than to Jean as he watched Rogue across the dining hall. “I smelled it. Something’s holding her back.”

More like someone. It was obvious to Logan in the library that word had gotten round to her about his reputation.

“You know,” he said, turning back to Jean and leaning into her, “You could always expedite the process a bit by doin’ a little mental pokin’ around for me. Find out who’s been talkin’ to her.”

“I could...” she said. Her hand found his knee under the table and began to caress it in a way that made his pants suddenly feel two sizes too small. “But what fun would that be?”

Logan closed his eyes as she rubbed his leg, allowing himself a few moments to relish the sensation of her hand as it moved up closer to his crotch.

“Besides,” she said, a smile in her voice, “That Panhead is looking sweeter and sweeter by the minute.”

Logan opened his eyes. “Jean...” he said, gaining some semblance of control as he took her hand in his. He pulled it up to press firmly against the bulge in his jeans as he locked his gaze on hers. “The only way you’re gettin’ your hands on that bike is if I’m bendin’ you over it.”

Heh. That did something to drop the smug grin a bit from her face. There was still a trace of a smile on her lips, though, as she pulled her hand away and got up from her seat. Logan watched as she picked up her tray and turned to leave, every click of her high heels on the linoleum like a torturous tap on his aching hardon.

With Jean gone, Logan picked up his fork again and set his attention back to the task of getting the key into Rogue’s pants. He watched her as she sat at her table, tugging nervously at her gloves as she listened to yet another one of Banana Kid’s stories.

She had to want something. Every woman did. He just had to figure out what Rogue’s particular something was and give it to her. Until then, he was going to need to get someone to talk to her, shoot down some of those stories she’d been hearing about him.

Logan glanced around the cafeteria, suddenly remorseful that he'd never bothered to make friendly with anyone who might be able to help him. Sure, he could get any number of trouble-making punks to do it – they owed him enough favors – but Rogue wasn’t going to fall for that.

No, this was going to take a different type of person, someone not at all like Logan. Someone preppy, clean-cut and trustworthy. Like Scott, but even gayer.

Logan glanced back over to Rogue’s table, where that Ice-pick kid was now standing, asking Rogue a question. Logan watched as they spoke, noting the easy rapport between them, the way she leaned into him and smiled as he spoke...

Bingo.

Rogue must have sensed him watching her then, because her gaze flitted over in his direction. Her eyes froze on his as she noticed him staring. Holding her gaze, he let a slow smile spread across his lips as he cut a piece of roast beef from his plate. He put the fork in his mouth and sucked the meat off, rolling it slowly over his tongue as he chewed. He licked his lips and swallowed, then winked at her.

She flushed bright red and looked away, hands back to tugging at her gloves.

Oh yeah. This was going to be a LOT of fun.