Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Sonofafuckingbitch!”

And without a moment’s thought Marie sat bolt upright in her bed, her body flaring into life in response. Unable to remember for a moment what had happened or why she’d woken up from such a wonderful dream. Cold, biting air nipped at the uncovered flesh of her arms as her blanket fell away from her shoulders. The light from the half-closed curtains felt way too bright to her eyes. And worst of all- She was lying in a strange bed, in a strange apartment, Logan-less. Logan-free. A No-Logan Zone. There was no growling feral lying beside her; The sheets were barely warm, he’d clearly been gone a while. Marie closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose, trying to make the difficult choice between bursting into tears (What the Hell did you expect?) and killing him (What the Hell did he expect?). The memories of last night’s tenderness making her chest ache. For a beat she just lay there, awash in her own misery but then-

She noticed something.

Something white- it smelt like sugar- and delicate, which had been carefully drizzled like a trail of breadcrumbs around by the bed, its path too straight and deliberate to be accidental. Marie frowned, surprised, and despite her best intentions she padded through the apartment, following it. Stopping to note the large, palm-shaped smudge on the drapes in the bedroom, registering the vague smell of cigar smoke which hung around the front door. The sugar trail petered out there, the white powder disappearing into the hall outside; Without any hesitation she pulled open the door and looked down at her feet-

There was a bowl of strawberries sitting there.

It sat alongside a massive carafe of what smelled like coffee- good coffee- And a brown paper bag filled with beignets. Actual, New Orleans beignets. Which smelled so delicious that they made her mouth water, and were so covered in sugar that Logan had been able to use them to make that trail through the apartment that led her here. Marie tore into one, taking a greedy bite- And as she did she noticed the note at her feet, underneath the beignet bag. It was covered in sugar and thumb-prints. You were too fucking pretty to wake, darlin’, she read, so I did the smart thing and didn’t try. Storm needs a favour, had to haul ass. Will be in Wakanda until Wednesday. Enjoy the breakfast, I’ll be back soon. Logan

Marie bent down to pick up the strawberries and tried not to grin too wide.

Marie bounced out of bed- she’d overslept- and went tearing through Tony’s loaner apartment like the devil himself was on her tail. Picking up jeans (yeah, she was pretty sure those were clean) and her favourite AC/DC tee, tossing a brush through her hair and grabbing an apple out of the fruit basket housekeeping had left before thundering towards the door. Pulling out her keys, checking her cell phone. Bringing up Kitty’s number to call and say she was on her way. In fact she was in such a hurry that she almost tripped over the small box which had been left at her door-

The small, wooden box with the Wakandan writing on it.

Her heart literally skipped a beat at the sight.

Marie scooped down and picked it up all the same though, all thoughts of Kitty momentarily forgotten. Opened the ornate lid and peered inside. There was a necklace there, made out of some form of weather-beaten wood, the chunks cut roughly and pieced together but the natural patterns of the tree’s growth left intact. Here and there between the hollows in the wood there were pieces of amber, flashing brightly against the wood’s mahogany. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen before, flawed but perfect, utterly unique. And there was a note at the bottom- In Logan’s handwriting.

Saw this, she read, and thought of you. Seemed right, you know? L.

Marie walked slowly back into her apartment. Staring at the necklace, un-gloved hands running over its beautiful, rough wood. Unable to resist putting it on and looking at her reflection in the early afternoon light. She ended up being twenty-five minutes late to see Kitty, but when KitKat saw that necklace she really didn’t mind one bit-

And when she went back to the Mansion she made sure to shoot her sensei a proud grin before she headed upstairs.

“For the last time, Bobby, he’s not a fucking Skrull!”

And Marie heard a chortle of laughter behind her as Kitty hustled the newly-pregnant Jubilee towards the showers. Leaving Marie- not for the first time- to deal with Iceman’s theories on Logan’s current good behaviour. Seemed that Drake was completely unwilling to believe that a smiling, non-homicidal, apparently monogamous Logan could be the result of genuinely trying to patch things up with her and not a plot to assassinate the President. Or an attempt to corrupt the X-Men into the thrall of the Hellfire Club.

“But it’s not natural!” Bobby voice cut over her thoughts. “I went out with you, Marie. You’re good in the sack, but you’re not that goo- Ouch!”

And he winced as Logan smacked an adamantium fist into his solar plexus, the blow just harsh enough to wind him but not knock him over. The fact that he hadn’t seen it coming probably more ego-bruising than the actual blow. The blond pouted up at the feral. “Not cool, man,” he muttered, “Not cool at all-”

“Neither’s talking about my girl like that,” Wolverine growled. “You think what you like about me, Goldilocks, but reminding me you two have history ain’t fucking wise, that clear?” Bobby nodded, shooting Marie a petulant look but agreeing all the same. “And I ain’t a Skrull, you got that?” he yelled at Drake’s rapidly disappearing back. “Cheeky little fucker,” he muttered, before pressing a quick kiss to Rogue’s fingers. “You don’t listen to him, you hear?”

And with that he disappeared off into the showers, still muttering about how Bobby was an idiot, and how Betsy had proved the Skrull thing was a crock three weeks before. Because Storm had asked her to.

He didn’t see it, but Marie couldn’t help her smile.

“You want it done properly, you send in Marie.”

And Logan glared at Nick Fury, daring him to suggest otherwise. A map of the suspected H.Y.D.R.A. compound flickering like an electronic ghost to their right, the experimental manned craft they wanted to use to get inside gleaming and ready to go. Behind him Tony Stark was grinning in barely suppressed glee, the idea of Rogue being sent in to look for the Richards children ahead of one of Fury’s own clearly tickling him pink. Not that he was foolish enough to say that though; Since he’d started dating Pepper his sense of self-preservation had come on in leaps and bounds.

Wasn’t like it was before its time, Rogue mused.

“You’re sure she’s that good?” the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director barked then, eyeing Logan. He hadn’t looked at anyone else since they arrived and it was really starting to piss Marie off.

“Rogue’s the best,” Logan said quietly, “Ain’t nobody better.” And he shot her a quick, sharp smile, giving her hand a squeeze. Earning a disapproving snort from the notably gorgeous, notably lethal, notably red-headed Agent Romanov who (Marie was notably pleased to note) had barely earned a glance from Logan since she sashayed in. “So why don’t we cut the bullshit,” the feral continued, speaking over her thoughts, “and let the best person fer the job get on with it.” And he glared at Fury, daring him to contradict him. One hand still on Marie’s wrist, stilling her, the sense of delight at knowing what confidence he had in her making her grin. The silence stretched out, Fury unwilling to give in without some semblance of a fight and then-

“You have five hours,” he muttered, finally looking at her. “Then I send in Romanov.”

The Richards kids were back with their parents by dawn.

“Three words,” Marie told an admiring Pepper as she helped her try on her wedding dress, “Genuine. Samurai. Sword.”

And she grinned, unable to hide the excitement Logan’s latest gift had brought: She’d wanted one ever since she started training with a blade but she’d never been able to get one- And Logan had always refused to but one for her, in case she ended up on the wrong end of a fight. Kit could have something long and pointy, she’d often groused, but not, apparently, his girlfriend-

Though she supposed it was one Hell of an act of trust, if he was giving her something lethal and sharp now.

“He’s certainly going out of his way in the romance stakes, isn’t he?” Pepper’s voice chimed then, an amused smile splitting her face. She seemed to think Logan’s quest to earn Rogue’s trust back was entertaining as Hell, but that was only because it made her look slightly less whipped when it came to Tony “Optimus Dick,” Stark. With whom she was nauseatingly, cutely in luurve. “You two dating again?” the redhead asked, holding her hair up off her face and checking the effect in the mirror. “Or are you taking it really slow?”

Well, Mare mused, What an annoyingly good question that was.

She felt an actual, honest to goodness blush begin creeping up her cheeks then, making her feel like an adolescent. Like she was still that inexperienced, untouchable girl pining for Logan she’d once been and not the kickass, kinda-sorta-girlfriend of the famous Wolverine she now was. Because she and Logan had never dated the first time round, per se; They’d just done stuff besides sex every so often. Their life had been the X-Men and each other, and there had seemed to be no time for anything else. But now… Restaurants were involved in their romance. Meeting for coffee. Texts that he’d got home safely, phone calls that weren’t about saving the world. He’d started taking her to movies, a first in their relationship since the only thing they used to do together in a darkened room sure as Hell hadn’t involve following a plot (though it had sometimes involved ice-cream)-

And truth be told, Marie didn’t know how she felt about it.

Truth be told, she wasn’t sure what she wanted right now, or what she was doing, and that scared the living daylights outta her.

Because she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to essentially keep going steady (with all the chaste, junior high action that term implied) or whether she- Well, whether she just wanted to jump on Logan and get on with the getting it on already. Wasn’t sure whether that was a good idea, and was terrified to find out it was not. Every time she let herself imagine things changing between them the image of him with the barfly would pop into her head, or worse, the image of his face as he’d explained that he’d let her catch him cheating through some misguided sense of chivalry. And nothing put an end to thoughts of getting jiggy as quickly as that. It was so confusing, and there seemed nothing she could do to help it: It really was one of those situations where she would just have to sink or swim. But which to choose, what to do, how to handle it?

And how would she deal with finding out that things between her and Logan just wouldn’t- couldn’t- work?

A beat.

Pepper seemed to finally notice her embarrassment then because she didn’t press the point. Just let her hair down and wordlessly gave Marie a massive hug. Rubbing her back as she did so- They’d gotten tight in the few months Tony had employed her to bodyguard his Girl Friday- and shooting her friend an understanding smile. “Maybe it’s best you just go back to describing your new weaponry,” she said matter-of-factly, “And I’ll go back to worrying whether Tony will turn up at the church without an entourage of strippers or a gaggle of paparazzi-”

“He’ll turn up, shuggs,” Marie said soothingly, “He loves you.” In the last five months she’d never doubted that was true.

Pepper’s eyes met hers in the mirror. “And Logan loves you. Just have some faith in him.”

But faith was the one thing Marie knew she didn’t have.

And she supposed that was the real problem, after all.

And so it went.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. Dates became a regular fixture on Marie’s calendar, and always when they finished Logan left how they finished up to her. There were a few quick kisses- New Years’ Eve, the moment Kurt and Storm announced their engagement- but for the most part it was quiet. Placid. Exactly what Marie thought she’d want. Every so often Logan would lay his hand on her heart, in the same spot he had that first night in Stark Towers and watch her reaction, telling her when she finally asked him whether that was Semaphore for “Get me a beer, darlin’,” that it was actually Semaphore for “Rogue’s not getting lucky tonight.” But he never pushed things any further than that, he never tried to pressure her. Never even- and this was the truly surprising part- tried to run. It should have been perfect. But even Marie could see it was not.

And that was scarier than anything else.

Because every so often she’d catch him watching her, his expression somewhere between worry and hope, and her faith would fail her. The love in his expression a pain and a wonder because she didn’t know whether she’d ever be ready to return it. Didn’t know whether she’d ever be in that place ever again. She tossed and turned at night, the questions plaguing her: Was she leading him on? Was she punishing him? And sometimes, in her darkest hours- Was she still even the woman he loved that much?

Could she ever be her again?

But she kept moving, she kept trying. She kept going out with him and laughing with him and doing her best to heal. Until one night, when fate- and by fate she meant a giant, feral, magnificently coiffed and pissed off man-kitty- decided to intervene and knock her upside the head, and set her life back on course, which annoyed said man-kitty no end.

But ain’t that always the way with true fucking love?