Author's Chapter Notes:
As with back in black, sorry for the delay. it's been a really long damn month. Anyway, as always thanks for their reviews go to sahara (you know if jubes ever gets her act together the world is doomed), tamisnead (glad you're enjoying a WIP), Anami (totally onboard about Wolverine: Origins Remy, BTW), mia (yup, Jubes will soon be grand high poobah of the universe) and wendy (my cork-screwy brain tries its best) for their kind reviews. And now- the thick plottens"
hobbits away, hey! and happy hallowe'en...

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

JITTERS

CHAPTER SEVEN: HEAVEN KNOWS I’M MISERABLE NOW

Logan put his hand at the small of Peter’s back.

He was doing this fer Marie.

The young man took Logan’s large, hairy paw in his own and squeezed.

He was doing this fer Marie.

The younger man began counting off a cha-cha beat. Slowly, like he was talking to an idiot child. Pushed off, trying to lead Logan backwards in some semblance of said cha-cha step-

-He was doing this fer Marie, Dammit!-

And then, just as he had every other time he’d done this today, Logan stepped on the boy’s toes. And then his own. Crushing both. The weight of six foot of adamantium and a lifetime of brooding playing havoc with his “musicality,” whatever the fuck that was. Of course Logan knew that the fact that he was trying to look badass and dance at the same time was probably why his concentration was all over the place, but Hell if he’d admit it-

Pete clambered to his feet then.

Rubbing his toes and probably wondering why he and Kitty had invited anyone to their elopement in the first place. Because Logan was willing to bet it wasn’t turning out like he’d thought. “Again,” he said, and Logan obliged him. Telling himself not to tighten his grip on Parker’s hand in case he broke it. Telling himself to listen to the count like the he’d been told, and not picture Marie and Remy doing something gymnastic and European and motivation fer justifiable homicide on the bar to his right. After all, it wasn’t Peter’s fault they were in this position: Rogue’s belief in his indifference was his own boneheaded fault. And since it was his fault she felt that way then Logan knew it was his responsibility to fix it: No woman of his was gonna go through life thinking her mate didn’t want her because o’ something as insignificant as the fact that her touch could kill. I mean, he thought, What kinda jackass would let that stand in his way? Especially if he had a chance with Marie? And so, Logan lifted his right foot. Tightened his hand on Parker’s and stepped backwards. Again. Then again. Then again, in time and unison. Only this time he made sure to sway his ass as he moved-

Yes, he actually thought that. And did it. He ordered his ass to sway as he moved. And since he was the Wolverine, and the best o’ the best at what he did and all that- His ass obeyed him.

You bet your fucking bottom dollar it did.

“I love my life,” he heard Kitty snicker then. She was sitting beside the beat-up old CD player, choosing the musical accompaniment to this torture. Jubes had left her in charge while she went out hunting fer Marie and Gumbo, and my but that didn’t exactly fill Logan with confidence. “What can I say, sensei?” the pum’kin was grinning. “Canada dix pointes!”

Little smartass.

“You’re not helping, honey-pie,” Pete gritted out. “And you’re distracting Logan, so could you please cut it out?” He was trying desperately not to make eye-contact with the feral while he led him through his paces, though it wasn’t difficult since he was eye to eye with the feral’s nipples. Or he would have been if Logan hadn’t been prevailed on to finally wear a shirt. Jubes’ earlier claim that Logan was trying to flash Parker “man-cleavage,” hadn’t exactly gone down well and Logan suspected that his young friend would never be able to look him in the eye again-

Though he had to admit that maybe things would probably be easier that way.

But moving swiftly along...

“So, how am I doing?” Logan asked. He wasn’t sure how much longer this whole musical feet-ass axis of cooperation was gonna last.

Parker seemed fascinated with his shoes. “You’re getting better.”

“Is he getting the sway thing down?” Kit inquired innocently.

“Yeah,” Pete gritted out. “He is. And we can all see that. Since God has not granted my many previous requests and made me blind.” Pryde giggled and Parker shot her a filthy look before turning his attention back to his student. “Now I’m just gonna turn you, okay Logan?”

Kitty actually bounced in her seat and clapped. It was a pretty disturbing sight.

“Okay, one and two and three and now!” And suddenly Pete spun him out and around, twirling him. Doing a damn good job of it too considering that Logan had a good foot on him and weighed more than his car. Fer a second the feral thought he was gonna lose his balance and drag them both to the floor, but at the last minute he managed to regain control, stepping lightly back towards Pete and feeling the younger man’s arm tight around his waist, his sweaty palm coming to rest on Logan’s hip. For the first time Pete smiled, albeit a little self-consciously. “Better,” he said. “No fractures that time. Now you can try leading…”

“Leading where?” Logan growled. He’d belatedly realised that him and Pete looked like that poster fer Dirty Dancing, only he was the chick in the dress, and he wasn’t pleased about it. Not that he’d ever been persuaded to watch that movie with Marie. Ever.

But again with the moving swiftly along…

Parker was apparently blissfully unaware of this however. “Wherever you want,” he said. “And judging by the look on your face I can probably guess.” He grinned. “Just try to imagine that I’m Marie-”

Logan actually showed his teeth. “Not gonna happen, bub,” he growled.

Now it was Pete’s turn to snort with laughter. “Really?” he asked. “What are you afraid of?” He leaned into the older man, just as Logan had once leaned into Jean Grey long ago. “Think you’ll like it?”

And the little shit actually waggled his eyebrows.

Well, he was gonna show him.

Logan summoned every ounce of machismo he possessed then and poured it into his stare. Wasn’t difficult: he knew he could get a woman fifty paces once he did it that. Cocked the eyebrow too, just fer good measure: After all, chicks dug the eyebrow, just like they dug the stubble and the hair. Pete swallowed but he kept steady contact with the boy, gaze boring into his. Face getting closer and closer, hands on the small of his back. Pete’s eyes widened, blinking like a deer in a car’s headlights. “You still want me to pretend, bub?” he growled huskily. “You still wanna pretend you’re Marie?”

“Who’s pretending she’s Marie?” Rogue’s voice chimed behind him.

And both Parker and the mighty Wolverine actually fucking jumped. Yelped too.

Cause ya know, once you had one o’ course you wanted the complete set.

Marie strode into the bar, Jubes trailing behind her. A very confused look on her face as her gaze passed between Pete and Logan and Kitty. But mainly between Pete and Logan. Didn’t help that the moment she’d spoken he and Parker had leapt apart with the limberness of spring lambs, anymore than it helped that Remy LeBeau was standing at the door, snickering to himself.

He gave Logan a little wave. Logan shot him a little claw.

Marie, Kit and Jubes all rolled their eyes at exactly the same time and immediately Logan felt contrition raise its ugly head.

An incredibly uncomfortable beat.

“Look, Jubie said ya wanted t’see me, shuggs?” Marie said then. That suspicious look still on her face. Logan hated that he’d put it there.

“Yeah,” he said, hand going to rub at the back of his neck. Why the Hell was eye-contact becoming such an issue fer him? “I uh- I wanted to apologise. Fer what I said back there.” He gestured randomly, and Remy smirked some more: Apparently he’d been filled in on what had been said. Prick. “I didn’t mean it like that: I was just being-” What had Jubes said? Oh yeah- “Just being an over-protective moron. Don’t wanna see you hurt, Ki- Eh, Marie.” Despite himself he shot Remy a glare. “You don’t deserve that.”

“Remy no do anything to a petite she no want him to do,” the Cajun drawled, eyes lit mischievously.

Logan forced himself to shrug, make like he was relaxed. “Marie’s a smart woman and she knows her own mind,” he said. “She makes a choice and I’m okay with that.” And he shot her an experimental little smile, testing the waters to see if she was still mad at him.

She smiled back and he felt about a hundred feet tall.

“So, you, uh, wanna try dancing with me?” he asked more quietly. He gestured to Parker. “Kit asked me to give her away and lead the first dance: figure I needed to brush up.” At least that was the official cover story if anyone asked. He shot Marie another experimental smile, relieved when she returned it: She hadn’t noticed, but the second she decided to forgive him she’d let go o’ Gumbo’s hand.

And my, but the Cajun Casanova wasn’t looking so fucking cocky now.

“Ah suppose Ah could help you practice,” she murmured. Stepping further away from Remy and taking Logan’s hand. He noted with satisfaction the way attraction spiked through her scent as she did it, and suddenly he didn’t give a flying fuck what she’d been doing with LeBeau all day: right here and now, she was his. “This okay, Logan?” she asked, holding one hand up and placing the other on the small of his back. The fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. Her dark-eyed gaze was riveted on him, and suddenly it felt like they were the only two people in the world. No wonder Parker liked this dancing shit so much. “Is this- is this okay for ya?”

“Couldn’t be better, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice dropping about an octave without his even willing it to. She was standing so fucking close… “We’re gonna go backwards first,” he said softly. “You good with that?”

She smiled. “Ah trust you.” And with that they began to move. The heat from her body reaching out fer him, the feel of her skin against his comforting and soft. He was pretty sure that Pete and the girls had moved outta the way at some point but he hadn’t noticed. Wasn’t inclined to notice much besides Marie. They moved slowly: The press of her against him was so distracting that he was afraid he’d stand on her feet but he didn’t. In fact, it was so much easier doing this with her than with Pete. The more they danced, the closer they got until every inch of her was plastered against him, her head resting against his chest, her hand twined in his against his heart. Whatever the fuck music was playing nothing more than a drone in the back of his head. Outside there was a world that was humming and buzzing and teeming with life but he didn’t notice it, didn’t notice any of it-

And he especially didn’t notice that Remy had disappeared from the bar.

He especially didn’t notice that the Cajun had pulled his phone out and looked up the number of an old friend.

The phone rang for what seemed like an age until it picked up and a female voice answered. “Mushi mushi,” it said.

Gambit grinned. Just who he was looking for. “Hey Yukio,” he murmured, “It’s good to hear you, girl. Ah was wondering whether you were busy for the next few weeks? Cos Ah got something Ah wanna run by you…”

Five minutes later Yukio- as in, Logan’s Ex, Yukio- had accepted the Thieves’ Guild’s invitation to come kick back in New Orleans for a couple of weeks. Just as she’d accepted an invitation to come stay at his bar and relax. Remy pulled out a glowing Jack of Hearts from his pocket and grinned as he gave her his address and credit card details for her flight over-

“Laissez les bon temps roller,” he said.

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