Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: TRUE

“We got played,” Logan said then.

And he turned to her, his familiar eyes darkening, his shirt still soaking wet. His jeans, she could now see, streaked with mud and rain. Despite herself Marie felt heat rising to her cheeks, felt herself taking in every wet, dirty, scuffed, perfect inch of him. Her fingers tingling, the urge to reach out and touch him an actual, physical pain though of course she wouldn’t do anything about it- Even if they’d just essentially been issued an ultimatum to lay back and think of Westchester from all their closest friends. From outside she could dimly make out the sounds of the storm easing, of Jubes and Kitty moving the crowd who’d watched the fight on. Could hear Gambit flirting with one of the working girls, could hear Pete telling him to piss off when he tried his charm on with Kit. But none of that registered, not really. After all, she was locked in a tricked-out sex cave with the man of her dreams and nothing in her previous experience had prepared her for that, at least nothing in real life-

A beat.

“You okay?” Logan asked then, making her jump in the near darkness. He’d crossed the few paces separating them and now he was standing firmly within her personal space, his eyes riveted on hers. In the dictionary under sex on a stick Marie was pretty certain there was a picture of him wearing his current expression.

She blinked and took a nervous step away.

“Ah’m okay,” she stammered, “Just a little embarrassed, is all. Ah didn’t see this coming and Ah should have-”

“You ain’t the one thought introducing Jubes to Remy would be a good idea,” he pointed out dryly.

“No, Ah’m the one thought letting Remy LeBeau into mah room was a swell thing to do.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Trusting nature’s not a bad thing, Marie-”

“It is when you’re best friends with Jubilation Lee.”

He closed his mouth, deciding to give her that one- After all, she really did have a point.

“So how long we gonna pretend to be trapped in here before I stage a jail-break?” he asked then, trying very hard not to stare at the bed. The fact that they were locked in a room with nothing but one another and all the ingredients for a letter to Penthouse clearly not helping his sense of Zen. “I mean, you wanna eat some of the food or something-” Whatever lightness had been in his expression dimmed. “Or you wanna get outta here right away?”

Suddenly they were both fascinated with the floor.

Marie knew she didn’t wanna get out of here. She’d had to accept that when she jumped in between the immortal killing machine and the guy armed with a set of playing cards who was taunting him and tried to keep the killing machine safe. But how could she tell him? “Ah doubt we can do,” she ventured eventually. “Ah mean, Jubes probably has the entire place booby-trapped to the nines-”

Again the cocked eyebrow. “You think I can’t handle a little Jubes-related ass-kicking?”

“I think the universe couldn’t handle a little Jubes-related ass-kicking if chica decided she wanted to take it on. Besides-” She forced herself to look up- “Is it really so terrible being in here with me?”

“I never have anything better to do than spending time with you,” he said quietly.

And it was in that moment that Marie decided being locked in a tricked-out sex cave with Logan officially fucking rocked.

“You mean that?” she murmured and he nodded. His expression suddenly somewhere between willing and wary. Hands clenched at his sides. She shivered: He was so close she could see the where the water had soaked through his shirt, could make out the swell and rise of his body as he breathed tightly. In then out, in then out- The motion of his chest almost mesmerising, the nearness, the warmth of him making her feel sticky and tingly and wet. He swallowed and she watched in helpless fascination as his Adam’s apple worked, as his pulse tapped its steady rhythm next to it. The urge to reach out and lick that long, corded vein almost overpowering in this close, hot room. Logan was staring at her just as intently: Whether he was conscious of it or not he was backing her against the door, his hands going on either side on her hips. She had to dig her nails into her palms to try and keep from touching him-

“Are you cold?” she whispered. Because she had to say something.

“No.” He was looking at her intently. “Are you?”

She shook her head, a little shyly. Her hands had gone helplessly to his shoulders, the fingers curling in the fabric to twist. “Do you wanna break out of here?” she asked, breath held.

“No. Do you?”

“No!” And she shrugged helplessly. “Ah just… Ah just…” She feared with a sudden, mortifying intensity that this would all come streaming outta her the way it had in Jackson Square. “Ah just don’t wanna be the girl you fuck on the kitchen counter shuggs,” she said quietly. “Ah don’t wanna be the girl who loses you because you walked away.” She searched his face, not knowing what else to say, how else to explain it to him. “Do you get that?” she asked finally.

“I do. I really fucking do. I even get how things went too fucking fast in that kitchen. I just-” He shook his head helplessly, sighing. “Look, do you have any idea what it’s like wanting someone who doesn’t want you?”

She blinked. “Shuggs, Ah coulda taught a course in that at the Mansion, mainly because of you. But-” Realisation hit her like a big, shiny, adamantium-lined truck to the head. “You mean you thought- You thought Ah didn’t want you?” she whispered. “You thought Ah wanted Remy more?” What. The. Fuck?

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “You like ’em young and clean, not like me-”

“Since when did that ever describe Remy LeBeau?” she demanded. “And besides…” Her voice was tiny. “You like ’em elegant and sophisticated, not like me.”

That riled him. “What makes you say that?” he demanded. “Did you ever ask me?”

She drew back. “No,” she snapped, “Ah settled for having it thrown in mah face whenever Ah had to pass your place to get to the Danger Room.”

“That’s not fair, Marie,” he growled, “I didn’t do that shit on purpose. Besides, did you expect me to live like a monk before I figured out how I felt about you?”

“No,” she snapped back. “But did you expect me to live like a nun until Ah figured out how I felt about you?”

“That was different-”

“How was it different?”

“It just was-”

“Why? Cos you’re the big, scary Wolverine and you say so?”

“No,” he snapped, “Because you’re the fucking smart one out of the pair of us and I expected you at least to see through the no good bastard who’d hurt you and finally choose the no good bastard who’d do anything fer you- Who is me, by the way!” And he let out a thick puffing breath, hands clenching. Finally angry enough to stop talking around his feelings and actually fucking deal. “But you didn’t get that!” he was saying, “You went chasing after the biggest man-whore in New Orleans and not me! And no matter what I did you just got madder and madder at me, and no matter what I felt you seemed to like Remy more! And now, when I’ve ruined what chance I had with you and can’t seem to fix it that no matter what I try, now everyone I know has decided to lock me in here with you and all I can think about is fucking you senseless… But I can’t cos I still don’t believe you really want me! Do you have any idea how frustrating that is, Marie? DO YOU?”

At which point Marie grabbed hold of his belt loops and hauled him over to her and kissed him so hard she thought they both might pass out because it really, what else was she gonna do at a time like this?

For a second he paused in surprise and then- Suddenly they were in each other’s arms, hot and wet and needy. Both tripping backwards, landing on the bed. That same out-of-control heat that had claimed them in the kitchen rushing through them now, but underneath something else, something different. Something soft and wet and sweet. Slowly Logan gentled the kiss, his nose and mouth ghosting slowly down her body, not even trying to remove her clothes. Fingers squeezing her almost chastely, lazily licking and nibbling at her throat. She took a deep breath through her nose and let her hand go to the nape of his neck, fingers raking softly through the feathery hair, silkier than anything she’d felt before. Heard him give a long, contented purr as her hands cupped the back of his head. He was kissing her slowly now, methodically working his way up her body. Looking into her eyes once he got to her mouth and making sure she registered it was him. Without warning he turned them sideways and placed her hand against his heart as he had when they had danced, the feel of his blunt fingers against hers dizzying and electrifying and safe. She opened her mouth to protest but before she could he kissed her. Grinned almost wolfishly when she pouted a dazed complaint but pulled him tighter against her chest. “The girl who doesn’t get fucked on the kitchen counter gets to take her time darlin’,” he muttered. He was trailing butterfly kisses along her jaw. “The girl who doesn’t get fucked on the kitchen counter gets to do this all night long…”

“And what if she wants it quick and dirty?”

His grin grew wider. “Then she just has to bide her time.” And he brushed one of her stripes out of her face, expression turning serious. He was staring down at her in a way she’d never seen him look at anyone else, not even Yuki or Jean. “Are we doing this, Marie?” he asked softly. “For real, this time? No ducking or hiding? Cos if you don’t want this-”

“Ah want this.” She ran the back of her hand along his jaw. “Ah just… Ah never thought you’d want me, is all. And Ah couldn’t bear losing you after a one night stand. But…” She took a deep breath. “But if you want me then Ah’m yours, just like Ah’ve always been.”

He kissed her, hot, wet and searing. Gentle and melting and sweet. “Well then darlin’,” he grinned, eyes darkening, “Let’s get this show on the fucking road-”

And he and Marie took it from there.