The air is practically rushing past my ears as Logan pulls me down the hall to my room; I don't really know what's going to happen, but I've got butterflies in my stomach and I have to hold back a goofy smile that wants to spread across my face.  Logan's pulling me by my hand now instead of my arm, and I know I'm being a twit, but the thought that Logan and I are holding hands is making my stomach do flip-flops.  How very old-fashioned of me, getting flustered by a little hand-holding; but I can't help it.  Isn't it funny?  Logan and I have been friends and teammates for so long that touching is not something new for us.  We've hugged.  I've wrapped my arms around him when we've gone for rides on his motorcycle.  He's held me when I cried, and I've used him as a guinea pig when I was learning to control my mutation.  One time, during an especially grueling mission, Logan and I actually had to hide in a hole together for seven hours straight; the space was so small that we had to lay face to face with our bodies flush against each other from chest to feet just to fit.  That was something, let me tell you.  And yet, any feelings I had then pale in comparison to the way I'm feeling right now, just holding his hand.  This is different.

Every so often he glances back at me, and I quickly try to school my expression to something more neutral.  I know damn well that Logan did not come looking for me because he wanted a haircut.  Just two days ago he was vehemently refusing to let anyone touch his hair in preparation for the big gala, and now he's dragging me down the hall for an emergency haircut, just moments after busting through Remy's door, claws a-slashing?  What changed between then and now?  I'm afraid to hope what that might mean.  I try to tamp it down, but some tiny, stubborn part of me refuses to let go of that spark of hope.

We're approaching my room now, and Logan finally slows down; he turns back to me one more time as his hand rests on the doorknob.  He says nothing, but his face carries an expression that makes me feel like I am about to cross over a significant threshold.

Stop thinking that every look and every touch is more significant than it is, my inner voice says.  That's what you did in the woods, and look what that got you.  Nothing but a kick to the gut, says the voice.  Remember a certain red-head named Angelica?  Shut up.  I push back that little voice and stuff it into a closet at the back of my brain, but the thought is already out in the open.  Like a whisper behind closed doors, it's barely audible, and I'm trying to ignore it, but all the while I know it's still there.

Logan doesn't give me time to dwell on it.  He holds the door open for me and waits, never taking his eyes off of me as I cross over the threshold; I swear I can feel a tingle running down the entire back side of my body as he follows me in.  Every part of me can feel his presence; it's like he's the proton to my electron, attracting, drawing my molecules toward him.

He closes the door, quieter than I would have expected after the scene in Remy's room and the ensuing rush down the hall.  Now what?  We stand there in the middle of the room, not saying anything; we just look at each other in silence.  The room is quiet; so quiet that I can hear the little alarm clock beside my bed ticking, counting the seconds as they pass by in maddening anticipation.  An entire minute passes by until I finally break under his intense gaze.  My eyes fall to the floor, and I start toeing the carpet.

"Logan, I can't give you a haircut without my stuff; I tried to tell you earlier--my clippers and such are all out on Remy's balcon--"

"Tell me why you were crying."

For a moment I'm stunned by the question.  I meet his eyes again, and they are still fixed on me intently.  My lips part, but no sound comes from my mouth.

"Earlier today.  When you were in the bathtub...you were crying.  Tell me why."

Oh, no.  Don't ask me that.  "Logan, I...I told you.  I don't want to talk about it."  I hang my head and sigh.  "It's stupid..."

"Marie."  He takes a step closer.  "I need to know...please."

Something in his voice catches my heart, and I glance up again.  There's that look.  Those beautiful hazel eyes, looking at me with tenderness and concern.  But there's something else there, too.  There's that shadow of vulnerability that he almost never shows.

When I see that look, all resolve, all pride, all hesitation crumble away.  I've never been able to deny him anything when he looks like that.

I cross the room to my bed and sit down, my knees feeling a little weak at the thought of what I'm about to confess.  Logan doesn't move from his spot, and my anxiety bumps up a notch.  Here goes nothing.

"Here's the truth."  I take a deep breath.  "When we had our...talk, in the woods..."

Logan flinches, ever so slightly, but says nothing.  I don't think he was expecting me to say that.  I swallow hard and continue.  "It was tough for me because...well...you're my best friend.  And because...because..."

Shit.  Why is this so hard?  Funny how I always thought that Logan was the one who couldn't talk about feelings, couldn't talk straight about us.  Turns out, I'm not so good at it, either.

"I...you were right, you know.  When you said that I wanted more.  And I think...we both know we weren't just talking about my career with the X-men."  Logan doesn't say a word, but I can see the wheels turning.

"But then, you said you couldn't lose me, you couldn't lose...this," I say quietly, "and I could see that you were struggling, trying to get me to understand...that you didn't want to be...couldn't be more than friends."  Logan's eyes drop for a moment, but then he lifts them again, looking like he wants to speak, but I have to finish this now or I'll never be able to say it.

"And I was ok with that," I continue before he can say anything.  "I accepted it.  Because I could understand it.  It hurt a little, but then I was ok with it, because that was what you needed.  And when we fell back into our usual routine, and you carried me to the mansion on your back and we were having such a good time and acting like best buds I thought, I can do this, because at least I would always have you that way."  I look down at my hands, which are nervously tangled on my lap.  I hear Logan cross the room, then feel the mattress sink down as he sits beside me.  I can't look at him for this next part. 

"I thought I would be ok with it.  But then...then Bobby said he saw you later that very same day in the gym, flirting with the new girl, Angelica, and suddenly...suddenly I was so very not ok with it."

There.  I said it.  I turn my face toward Logan, with no clue how he's going to react to that.  I'm immediately taken aback, because the look on his face is actually one of...surprise.  His eyebrows come together and he narrows his eyes slightly, turning his face a little, as if he's wondering how Bobby would ever come to that conclusion.

My heart flutters in my chest; is it possible that this was all just a misunderstanding?  Did I just spend the day on an emotional rollercoaster, all for nothing?  The more I think about it, the more I realize that I allowed myself to get worked up over simple hearsay, which is so stupid.  I should know better.  I am simultaneously embarrassed and relieved.

"I told you it was stupid," I say, my face turning red as I stare at my hands again.  "I was just confused and feeling raw from our talk in the woods, because...ugh, because I'm sure you know that I've had a crush on you for years," I blurt, my words starting to come out faster before I can reign them in.  "But I grew up, and we became close friends, and what started out as a crush became genuine, deep affection...And after all this time, I did want more, and I guess I thought that maybe you wanted more, too.  I mean, I thought that...the way you were looking at me and... touching my face...I thought that I felt something between us.  And so even though you said that you didn't want to risk it all for something more, I thought it would be ok, because we had time to figure it all out."

I venture a shy glance at Logan, and now his eyes are filled with warmth and affection and tenderness, and wow, my insides are turning to golden honey.  Suddenly I just want to lay the rest of it out on the table, just to put all this silliness and misunderstanding to rest.

"I was crying because I totally jumped to conclusions.  Based on a passing comment made by Bobby," I say sheepishly.  "At the time it felt like a slap to the face...all I kept thinking about was how you basically drew that line of friendship, knowing how I felt...and then once you got the reassurance you needed, I find out that you barely tossed me off your back before waltzing into the gym and putting the moves on Angelica.  Which is so silly," I say, sitting up straighter and hands becoming more animated.  "I mean, not that you've ever needed my blessing to pursue other women or anything.  And I've met Angelica, and I know that she's a redhead and totally awesome and beautiful and whatnot.  But even so, I know that you would never do that to me.  You would never have this soul-bearing moment with me one minute, and then drop me like a sack of potatoes the next minute to stake your claim on the new girl.  You wouldn't do that to me."  I heave a relieved sigh, so glad to get that off of my chest.  "Ugh, I feel so silly now that I've said everything out loud."

I look up and smile at Logan, thinking that he's going to smile back and say, "Aw, darlin', I would never do that to you," and "I don't even think that Angelica is pretty," or something as equally reassuring.  But instead my stomach lurches, because his expression has changed from warm and affectionate to a face of guilt.

"Logan?"  No answer.

"You...would never do that to me, right?"  Still nothing.  Oh God.  This is worse.   This is so much worse than before, because at least before, there was some small part of me that thought I could be wrong, that I was just jumping to conclusions.  But now I've told him everything, and it turns out that it's true.  And it hurts even worse.

"So...Bobby was right," I whisper.  "You did want to stake your claim on Angelica.  And you didn't waste any time at all."

"No, it wasn't like that," Logan finally says, shaking his head.  "I mean, I did...flirt with her that day...but it wasn't...it wasn't like I just dumped you off so that I could hurry up and jump in the sack with Angelica.  It wasn't like that."

"Oh, no?  What was it like, then?"  I say evenly, trying to swallow down the bitterness rising in my throat.  "Because it sure feels like that."  I stand up, fists clenched, unable to sit down any longer with the hurt and anger bubbling up inside me.  I can feel my eyes start to sting, threatening to spill over with tears again, but I'll be damned if I cry one more time today over this selfish bastard sitting in front of me.  I clamp down on the hurt, and instead grab onto the anger, channeling it until the pain in my heart is buried.

"Marie," Logan says, looking up at me.  He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.  Finally he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck .  "Marie," he tries again, "I know that's what it might feel like to you, but..." he stammers, unable to find the words.

"I'll tell you what it feels like, Logan," I say, pointing my finger at him.  "It feels like being taken for granted.  It feels like having a carrot dangled in front of my nose, then getting a pat on the head and having to watch as the carrot is fed to someone else.  No, make that a milkbone, not a carrot...because you know I'll always be that puppy dog waitin' around for you when you're done playing," I say, suppressing a small quiver in my voice.  I wrap my arms around myself and walk to the window. 

"And to think," I huff as I gaze out the window, "I was so concerned about your happiness, about what you needed.  I was ready to do anything, be anything you asked; I was ready to give up on my own needs so that you could be with Angelica, if she was what it took to make you happy." I turn my face to Logan, and he is the one to look stunned now.  A small, bitter laugh scrapes out of my throat.  "How pathetic, right?  And the kicker is, I was romanticizing the whole thing!  I thought, 'Wow, this Angelica is really great, and she'll be so good for Logan.  I think she could make him happy, maybe fill that void for him.  He deserves to be happy, to be whole.  I want him to have that...even if it's not with me.'"  I turn my face back to the window.  "You have no idea how much that hurt, to finally let go."  The sun is shining again, and I close my eyes, letting its warmth caress my face. "That's when I turned to Remy.  Too bad you weren't as concerned about my happiness."

"Hey, now wait just a minute," Logan growls, standing up.  "You think that sonuvabitch is going to make you happy?  Look at who you're talking about, Marie.  He's a womanizer!  He only wants one thing from you, and he has no problem manipulating and taking advantage of a sweet young thing to get what he wants." 

Oh, the nerve!  Not only am I pissed that he would assume something so untrue about Remy, but he thinks I am incapable of discerning when I am being manipulated and taken advantage of!

Logan starts walking toward me, his face set in a mask of anger.  "And I'll tell you another thing--"

"Is that why you flew into a rage in the courtyard when I was about to kiss Remy?  Is that why you busted in to Remy's room and dragged me out of there?"  I shoot back with a glare.  "To 'rescue' me?"  Logan stops in his tracks.  "Do you think that I am so stupid that I can't tell when I'm being manipulated or taken advantage of?  Poor little naive Marie needs to be rescued again!" I spit.  "The real question is, were you protecting me, Logan, or were you keeping me in my place?"

"What?  Keeping you in your...no, I--" Logan says, shaking his head.

"We have a nice arrangement going on, don't we?  You can run about town, jumping into bed with any woman you please, then come home and pal around with your buddy Rogue, always available, just waiting around for you.  Joke a little, flirt a little...touch a little, break my heart a little, it's all good.  As long as I know that we're just friends.  As long as I stay sweet and innocent, and all yours.  No, you don't want me for yourself, not in 'that' way, but you don't want anyone else to have me either."

Logan stands there, looking like he has been slapped in the face, but he doesn't deny it, either.  I hate seeing that look, and my anger starts to waver.  Shit.  No, I can't lose the anger, because then the tears will come back.  He needs to hear this, and I need to say it.

"That's why you dumped me off and went running to Angelica, and that's why you couldn't stand to see me with Remy," I say with a lump in my throat.  "Do you want me, Logan, or do you just want me around?  'Cause you know what I think?  I think you don't know what the hell you want.  And I think you're not planning on figuring that out any time soon."

I walk past Logan and head for the door.  I'm barely hanging on to that last thread of anger, and I need to get out of here before I break down.  I place my hand on the doorknob and pause.

"You know, when we had that talk in the woods, I thought to myself that I would rather have you in my life as my best friend than to bear the pain of not having you in my life at all.  But I'm not so sure any more.  Maybe I'd rather have a quick knife to the heart than to die of a thousand paper cuts."

Silence.  I turn the doorknob, but before the door is opened more than a few inches, I see a blur rushing past the corner of my eye and the door is slammed shut.

"You're not goin' anywhere, darlin'," Logan says by my ear in a low, tightly controlled voice.  I turn around, and he steps closer, invading my space until I take a step back.  I feel the door pressing against my back as Logan places a strong arm on either side of me, effectively trapping me in.  "We're not finished here.  My turn."

There's a dangerous glint in his eyes, and I open my mouth to protest, but think better of it and close up again.  Logan's nostrils are flaring and his mouth is pressed into a hard line.  I can feel the anger rolling off of him as he pins me down with his glare...but then his eyes dart to my mouth, and I swear that it's a look of hunger.  He's so close, standing over me, blocking out everything from view but him, and all I can think of is how every cell in my body wants him to give in to that hunger and devour me.  Quite suddenly a wave of lust hits me hard and goes straight between my legs.  God, no matter what anger or pain this man causes me, I can't stop myself from wanting him. 

Logan sniffs the air deeply, the scent of my arousal no doubt inflaming his passionate state, and lets out a low rumble.  I can see him warring with himself, struggling to gain control.  Something about his demeanor feels very predatory and thrilling, and like a little rabbit frozen by the stare of a wolf, I can't bring myself to move.

"Logan?"

"Just...give me a second," he grinds out, closing his eyes.  A few moments pass by; his breathing slows, his brows unfurrow; his face relaxes, but not completely.  Instead, when he opens his eyes, his expression becomes a complicated mixture of anger, hurt, and guilt.  Now instead of being pinned down by his predatory gaze, I'm being tied down in place by my own damn heartstrings.  Why can he do this to me with a single look?

"I did...go to Angelica...after our talk," he says finally.  Another paper cut to my heart.  "But, it wasn't how you thought it was."  He pauses, searching for the right words.  "When we had our talk in the woods, I thought...I thought I was doing both of us a favor.  I was protecting us both, protecting our friendship.  No, let me finish," he says before I can protest.  "I know you don't want to hear it again, but you are my best friend.  You really don't know how important you are to me, Marie.  You're the only one who truly knows me.  I've shared shit with you that I've never shared with anyone else.  I look forward to seeing you every day, and I don't look forward to seeing anyone.  You know me, I hate people."

I can't help but crack a tiny smile at that.  Logan relaxes a little and the corner of his mouth twitches.  But then a shadow of pain passes over his face, and the playfulness is gone.  Slowly, he lowers his arms, removing the cage of muscle that had me entrapped; instead of feeling relieved, I feel oddly bereft.

"Do you know what it's like to be a creature that heals from anything, Marie?  It means that I've got nothin' to lose.  It means that no matter what happens out on that battlefield, I've got nothin' to fear.  I do what it takes to get the job done, and I can be a risk taker, because really it's no risk at all."

I flinch at the memory of all those times we boarded the jet after a mission, seeing Logan's uniform riddled with bullet holes and blood.  The pain always bothered me more than it bothered him.

"But thinking about you and me...what we have now, and what we could have together...all I could think about was what we could lose if it didn't work out.  For the first time in my life, I would be taking a real risk...and I've never had that before.  I've never cared about anything enough to have something to lose."

He bows his head and sighs.  "It never occurred to me that by trying to hold on so tightly to what we had, that I would end up driving you away."  He shakes his head, still bowed, and closes his eyes.  "When I carried you back to the mansion after our talk in the woods, I couldn't drop you off fast enough."  Um, ow.  I can feel that wound opening back up again, and I start to squirm.

"But not because I wanted to get rid of you," he clarifies, looking at me again.  "It was because having your arms around me, feeling your body against mine...felt so good, so right...and I was losing my resolve.  I had to get out of there, take my mind off that feeling.  I went to the gym to work out and clear my head..."  His expression changes to guilt again, and he looks away.  "And there was Angelica."

Oh, no.  I don't want to hear this.  I don't want hear this...

"The first thing I saw was that head of red hair," he continues.  Fuck.  Fucking red hair.  I really don't want to hear any more.

"I thought that I could push away those thoughts about you by doing what I've always done.  Follow the same routine.  Walk in like I owned the place.  Turn on the charm.  Have any woman I wanted."  He forces himself to look at me again.

I can't take this any more.  I don't want to hear another word.  "Logan, please stop.  I have to go," I whisper, trying to twist away from the door.

"No, listen to me, Marie," he says, grabbing my shoulders.  "Listen to me."  I turn my face away, unwilling to look at him.  "Marie...please."  He gently takes my chin and turns my face back to him.  "The problem was, I didn't want her.  I tried, but...it just wasn't right.  I couldn't do it.  Couldn't go through the motions.  All I kept thinking when I was flirting with her was that this wasn't what I wanted.  Not anymore.  I ended up going back to my room alone."

I stare at him, relieved, but at the same time, afraid to allow myself to believe it.

"I had no idea that Ice-Pick saw me talking to her; otherwise I might have had some clue as to why you were crying in the bathtub.  Then again, maybe not," he says wistfully.  He brings his hand up slowly and gently caresses my cheek with his thumb.  "I used to know what you were thinking all the time.  You've always been able to tell me anything.  But not this time.  I didn't mean to be so pushy, trying to make you talk...but I could feel something changing between us.  You were shutting me out.  For the first time I was getting a taste of what it would be like to lose that closeness we've always had, and I didn't like it."

Logan's hand begins to gently stroke the white streak of hair framing the side of my face.  I let his words sink in.  Regret is etched into his face; regret and loss, and I recognize it now as the same look on his face when he saw Remy and I on the balcony.

"Then I saw you...I saw you with Gambit.  And it was like a kick to the gut," he says hoarsely, resting his hand on the side of my neck, stroking my jaw with his thumb.  Suddenly my stomach is filled with butterflies, and tiny spark of hope spikes through my chest.  I search his eyes, and he meets them with an intensity that fans that spark into a flame.

"Things really hit home when 'Ro said that I needed to let you move on," he continues.  "I thought for just a minute about what that might be like.  You and me, seeing other people but remaining friends...but the thought of you...the thought of you with someone else was just..." he stops, shaking his head and shutting is eyes tightly, as if trying to shut out the image from his mind, "...unbearable.  Seeing you with someone else every day would kill me."  He opens his eyes, and a pang hits me in the chest, because he actually looks broken. 

"And when I stood outside the Cajun's door, and I heard you...making those sounds, imagining what he might be doing to you, I...I just lost it."  He touches his forehead to mine, breathing a little faster.  "Maybe you could move on, but I knew right then that I never would.  "

At his words, my heart is breaking and soaring at the same time.  I can no longer contain myself, and my hand goes to his face, comforting, caressing, needing to feel some intimacy with him.  His other hand comes up to cover mine, and we remain in this embrace for several moments, foreheads together, breaths mingling and hearts pounding.  Finally, Logan pulls back to look into my eyes, and oh, there's that warmth and affection again, tinged with apology and a silent plea.

"I was a fool, Marie.  I was afraid of losing what we had.  But now I know, I would risk it all to be with you...because some things are worth the risk."

My insides turn to golden honey again, and my knees go weak.  "Logan," I whisper, and then his mouth comes down on mine in answer, kissing me with a tenderness so warm and sweet and so good I want to die.  Is this really happening?  His tongue gently coaxes my mouth open and he deepens the kiss, moving one of his hands to wrap behind the small of my back, pulling me closer, and God, I'm lost in the sensation, drowning in a a swirl of love and reconciliation and desire and secret prayers answered.

I've imagined this moment so many times, but nothing could have ever prepared me for this.  This onslaught of emotion, the surrealness of this new level of intimacy.  My heart is hammering inside my chest as Logan possesses my mouth, first with gentle nips and the soft darting of his tongue, then with a more insistent exploration, tasting, demanding, claiming. 

Suddenly he pulls back and looks at me, slightly out of breath, and for a moment I'm reluctantly dragged from the haze by a tiny spike of fear.  Why did he stop? Is he having second thoughts?  But then he slowly traces his fingertips along my cheek, his touch feather light. His hand cradles the side of my face, caressing my lower lip with his thumb, an echo of those other times when he caressed my lips the very same way...there's that same tenderness and affection, the same look of desire lingering in dark, hooded eyes.  Only this time, I'm not wondering if I'm seeing things that aren't there...not wondering if he's given that look to someone else, touched her that same way.  This time, it's real, and I don't know how I know, but everything in my being tells me that this look is mine and mine alone.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to kiss you like that?" Logan murmurs.

"Um..." I bite my lip, trying to prod my addled brain into forming a coherent thought.   "Since Laughlin City?"  His eyes twinkle with amusement for a split second before turning dark and molten, and then his mouth is on mine again in a scorching kiss that leaves me breathless.

My hands can't stop touching his face while we kiss, my fingers reveling in the roughness of the stubble along his jaw.  I glide my hands down his neck and shoulders to feel the hard planes of his chest, gripping the soft material of his t-shirt, as if I need to hold for dear life because at any moment, I could float away.  He breaks the kiss again and begins to plant little kisses and nips along my neck and collarbone.  A small whimper escapes from the back of my throat, and Logan's hands grasp my hips tightly in response, pulling me closer with a growl.  He moves aside the collar of my robe as his lips travel to that spot where my neck meets my shoulder, and oh...he kisses and laves the sensitive skin there, and damn, that's...oh that's...I'm having trouble finishing a single thought. 

"Say it, Marie" he says in a low husky voice that sends another bolt of heat through my body.  "Tell me that you'll never move on."  He pulls back to look at me, with an expression so intense that I almost can't bear it.  "You're mine.  I need to hear it."  There's passion and dominance and possessiveness in his eyes and his voice that turns me on to no end.  But then there's also a wisp of desperation and vulnerability there, too, and that's what breaks down the last of my walls.

"I could never move on," I confess, glancing up shyly.  "Not truly."  I lift my eyes to meet his fully, matching his intensity with my own.  "I've always been yours, Logan.  Always."

Like a crack forming in a dam, my words break something inside him, and Logan's eyes can not hold back the truth any longer.  "Marie..." he whispers.  "I love you...It's always been you."

The floodgate is sprung open, and all the fears, all the doubts between us are washed away, leaving nothing but simple, naked truth between two best friends.

We lock eyes for what seems an eternity.  It's real.  It's real.  We're both stunned into silence.  Isn't this the part where the romantic music swells and we kiss each other dramatically in an embrace for the ages?  That's how it is in the movies.  We were all over each other just minute ago...but this is different.  Suddenly there's almost a kind of...shyness between us.  We've never been exposed to anyone more than we are right now.  We've never laid all our cards on the table before.  Best friends who have known each other for years, have been through it all together...now treading new territory.

I never would have expected hesitation or shyness from Logan, a man who sees what he wants and goes for it without hesitation, and certainly without shyness.  But it actually makes me feel kind of glad, knowing that we're both starting out on somewhat equal footing.  And to think that I could actually have that effect on Logan...well it's actually kind of sweet.

Once more I can hear the steady ticking of my little clock on the nightstand, counting the seconds of maddening anticipation.  We both lean in close, our lips hovering just a fraction of an inch apart, and there's almost a crackle of energy buzzing in the air.  3...2...1...Then...Logan grabs me by the waist and pulls me to him.  Contact.  The kiss is soft and strong and honest and mind-blowing all at once.  He tangles one of his hands in the back of my hair, crushing me closer, and my hands wrap behind his head and neck; set to the song of our beating hearts, it's an embrace for the ages.

In less than a minute, any shyness we might have had quickly burns away in the flash fire of heat and the release of long-held desire.  Logan's hand slides up from my waist to brush a thumb over my breast, causing my nipple to pebble under the fabric of my robe, and then his hand slides down to cup my ass, squeezing it possessively.  "Logan..." I breathe, grasping his biceps as he breaks the kiss and starts blazing a trail of kisses down my neck again, intent on finishing what he started earlier.

He moves aside the collar of my robe, and there's a small pause as he hovers just a hair's breadth over 'that' spot--you know, the one between my neck and shoulder that he kissed earlier, taking away my ability to form coherent thought...I can feel him lightly sweeping his nose over the area, drawing in my scent; and then suddenly, I feel the firm but gentle bite of his teeth sinking into my flesh, and oh my stars, a bolt of white hot desire lights up my entire body.  I had no idea that spot was such an erogenous zone for me, but I sure know it now.  My head lolls to the side and my eyes close in pleasure, instinctively exposing my neck in some kind of primal surrender.  He soothes the bite with a series of butterfly kisses, and then he pulls back, eyes boring into me with pure desire.

Slowly, his hands take hold of the belt of my robe, untying the knot with erotic deliberateness, all the while holding my gaze with dark, predatory eyes.  The belt drops and my robe falls open, exposing the front of my naked body.  The cool air brushing against my exposed skin sends a sweet shiver through me, in contrast to the warmth of my blush and the heat of his stare.

Logan slides the robe back over my shoulders, unhurried, allowing the fabric to slowly glide over my skin, sensitizing every inch along the way.  Finally, he allows the robe to fall to the floor in a pool around my feet, and oh God, I am completely, utterly naked before him.  Not like when I stepped out of the bathtub and strutted around in front of Logan in defiance.  No, not like that at all.  There's no pride, no anger, no rebellion to shield me this time.  I feel his eyes sweeping over my body, appraising, savoring, and there's that look again--like he wants to devour me.  His mouth comes crashing down on mine in a searing kiss and he holds me firmly against his body.  He is still fully clothed, and the feeling of his clothing brushing roughly against my skin, the cool metal of his belt buckle pressing into my belly while I am completely naked is unexpectedly salacious.

Logan presses me roughly against the door with his hip, and I wrap my leg around him, craving more, needing to get closer still.  He growls into my mouth and presses harder, the thrusting the hard ridge of his erection against the sensitive flesh between my legs and sending off a shower of sparks through my body.  My head falls back against the door, a gasp drawn from my lips as his hand cups one of my breasts and he bends down to take my nipple into his mouth.  Sucking, teasing with his tongue and then moving to my other breast to do the same, then back to the first breast to start all over again, slowly driving me insane.

"Logan...please..." I whimper, begging for something, but what, I don't know.  A tension is starting to build in my belly, and I want, I just want.  He continues laving, kneading, suckling, teasing until I think I can't take it any longer, and then suddenly he draws my arms around his neck and lifts both of my legs up around his waist, hoisting me up with two firm hands under my thighs.  I cling to him tightly as he carries me over to the foot of the bed; he lays me down gently, pressing his erection into my hip and then kissing me once more before standing up between my knees, my legs draped over the edge of the bed.  He reaches behind his head and tugs his shirt off, and wow.  I've seen him with his shirt off plenty of times before, but never while he's towering over me like this, standing between my spread knees, his eyes dark with lust and totally focused on me.  He looks fierce and beautiful, and I'm suddenly having a flashback to the first time I saw him fighting in that cage.  I just have to sit up and touch him.  My fingers reach for his stomach, running through the line of soft hair from abs to chest.  He closes his eyes and rumbles in pleasure as my hands glide over his rippling muscles.

Logan drops his shirt to the floor, and then starts to go for his belt, his eyes fixed on my face, watching me, watching him, and all I can do is stare, hypnotized by the sexyness of his movements.  In a matter of seconds, all of his clothes are off, and he's pushing me back onto the bed with his hot and naked body, and oh my God, I can't believe this is happening, can't believe that Logan is here.  Naked.  On top of me.  He takes my mouth again in a hungry kiss, then circles his arm under the small of my back and easily shifts me higher up on the bed.

The muscles in his arms and shoulders bunch as he braces himself over me, and my hands can't stop touching him all over, his arms, to his shoulders, to his chest, and then to the powerful muscles in his back.  Never breaking eye contact, he starts repeatedly rubbing his erection over my opening, sliding through the slick folds and over the sensitive mound of flesh that sends showers of sparks through my body again, and I'm nearly mad with want for him.

He pauses and looks at me with that same expression he wore when we were about to enter my room, a meaningful look that says we are about to cross over a very significant threshold.  And then he enters me with one long, smooth thrust.  I throw my head back and cry out in simultaneous agony and ecstasy, clenching my eyes shut and breathing through the intense sensation.  We're one.  We're one, and it's so good, so beautiful, so...everything I've longed for, and a tear escapes from the corner of my eye.

"Marie?" I hear Logan say with concern in his voice.  I open my eyes to see apology and worry etched into his face.  "I'm sorry, baby.  I should have known...should have asked if this was your first time...I'm so sorry I hurt you."

"Shhh..."  I whisper, holding his face with my hands, caressing his lips with my thumb.  "It's ok.  I'm ok."  His eyes are filled with concern and I can see that doesn't believe it.

"Take a little of my healin', baby.  Turn it on for just a second," he urges.

"No, Sugar...no," I say, tracing his eyebrow with my fingertip and caressing the side of his face.  "To hurt you like that, even for a second, is unthinkable.  And besides," I interrupt him as he starts to protest.  "I want all of this.  All of it.  I want it to be real and I want to feel everything, even the pain."

He still looks concerned, but love I see reflected in his eyes at that moment is just...breathtaking.  I pull him down and kiss him, softly and sweetly at first, and then with a growing hunger.  I start moving my hips, and he groans, trembling with the effort of restraining himself.  Unable to hold back his body's response, he begins slowly moving with me, burying his face into the crook of my neck as I wrap one hand around his back and lace the fingers of my other hand through his hair.

"Marie..." he rumbles huskily into my neck.  Our breathing picks up as the tension builds, every movement stoking the growing fire.  The pain is gradually replaced by exquisite pleasure with every stroke, and soon the only thing I know is that I can't get enough, can't get close enough to him.  I'm gripping his hair, digging my fingers into his back, struggling to gain purchase.  I wrap my legs around Logan's waist, and with a growl he raises himself up, gripping one of my legs to hitch my knee higher, driving deeper into me.

"Oh, God!" I gasp.  He starts a new, powerful rhythm and changes the angle, gliding over some kind of sweet spot deep inside me, and fuck, that feels good.  Everything is escalating to a fever pitch.  I'm so close, so close.  "Please, Logan...," I beg, the words wrung from me with every thrust.

"I know, baby.  I know," he murmurs.  He slides his hand between our bodies, then presses his thumb right there, rubbing circles over that bundle of nerves until suddenly, I throw my head back and gasp, my vision exploding with a blinding white light, followed by bursts of color as wave after wave of bliss washes over me.  I raise my head, still riding out the pleasure, and see Logan watching me intently as I'm coming.  Looking into his eyes like this is by far the most intimate thing I've ever done, and it only heightens the ecstasy to be laid bare before him, knowing that he sees me at my most vulnerable and will keep me safe.

Soon after I come down, Logan quickens the pace until he reaches his own climax with a roar, muscles bunching and flexing as he pulses and spills into me with each thrust.  The look in his eyes is fierce and almost animalistic at first, but then gradually it melts into something softer, and that's when I can see it.  His soul, laid bare before me this time.  I can see his love for me, deep and real and intense.  The moment is so intimate that it almost hurts.

He snakes his arm under my back and collapses down to his elbows, careful not to crush me.  I wrap my arms behind his neck as he rests his forehead on mine.  We remain in that position for several moments, both breathing heavily.

Finally, he lifts his head.  We look at each other for a long moment, saying nothing.  And then...we both burst into laughter.  Logan nuzzles into my neck, breathing in my scent deeply.  He growls playfully and rolls us both over.  I squeak in surprise, causing us both to break into more peals of laughter.  I shift to my side and snuggle up to him, resting my head on his chest and hooking my arm and leg around him.  We both breathe contented sighs.  We are at peace, now that we finally crossed that threshold.

~~ "Rogue? Rogue...Can you hear me?" ~~

My eyes open slowly.  "Professor?"

Logan wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer with a rumble and a sigh.  We're snuggled nose to nose in a tangle of sheets, our legs woven together, and it's so warm and cozy and I am in heaven.  I close my eyes and start to drift off.

~~"Rogue...I am very sorry to interrupt your...nap time, but our guest are arriving, and you and Logan are needed downstairs, post haste." ~~

My eyes fly open and I lift my head, squinting at the little clock on my nightstand.  Realization finally hits me.  "Shit!  I mean, sorry, Professor!  I--we'll be down in a minute!"

I shake Logan's shoulder.  "Logan, wake up.  We're gonna be late."  Logan tries to pull me back down to the bed with a grumble.  "Come on, Sugar," I say, planting a kiss on both of his eyelids.  "We have to get up, right now.  We're late for the big gala, and the Professor's calling."  I plant a chaste smooch on his lips.  Just as I'm pulling away, Logan's arms snap closed around me like a sprung trap, and he captures my mouth in a deep, scorching hot kiss.  He finally releases me and we both come up for air.

"Now we can get up," he says with a grin.  His beautiful hazel eyes are sparkling, and God, I wish we didn't have to get up now.  I just want to stay right here in his arms forever, the rest of the world be damned.

I hurry up and throw on my panties, bra, evening gown, and shoes in record time, all while Logan lays there naked, watching me with an amused expression on his face.  "Logan, you need to get your tux!"

"Alright, alright," he concedes, rolling out of bed and standing up.  He saunters over to me, completely unabashed at his naked state, while I'm the one that is blushing.  "Do you think I can get away with a run to my room, just like this?" he asks innocently.

"You better not!" I gasp.  "From now on, no one gets to see you naked but me.  You got that, mister?"  I slap his ass cheek.  "You're mine now."

The look on his face is part amusement, part liquid fire, sending a tingle right down my spine.  Dear heavens this man is so very fine and...oh shit--I recognize that look.

"Ahh, haha!" I squeal, artfully dodging his grasp as he lunges for me. I make a beeline for the door and yank it open, intent on escaping to Logan's room so I can grab his tux.  That's when I see it, hanging on the other side of the door, along with a pair of shiny black shoes.  "Your tux!" I gasp.  I unhook the hanger from the knocker and shut the door.  There's a sticky note on the bag:

Remy said that you might need this delivered.  You can thank us later.  ;)

-Jubes

I can feel my face heating up with a bright red blush.  "You knew that this was here!" I exclaim, turning to Logan.  "Please tell me she didn't hang it on the door when we were..."  I can't finish my sentence, my mouth hanging open in shock.  Logan just gives me a lopsided grin and shrugs his shoulders.  "Oh mahgawd..."

Logan starts to laugh, apparently very entertained by all this.  "Relax, darlin'.  I heard Jubilee come by some time when we were sleeping, after," he clarifies.

"Oh, you!" I laugh, smacking his arm.  With a big smile, he takes the tux and starts getting dressed.  Just seeing him smile like that--a real, genuine smile--warms my heart and almost makes me tear up.  Logan actually looks...happy.  I've never seen that look on his face before.  And I'm the one who made him look that way.  Me.

Logan is dressed in two shakes of a lamb's tail, and he hands me the tie.  "A little help, babe?" he says with a sheepish smile.  With a grin and a peck on the tip of his nose, I make quick work of the tie.  It's another little thing that warms my heart, doing something so simple and domestic as fixing a tie for the man I love.  Geez, I'm really mushy today, I think with a smile.  Logan seems to be thinking along the same lines, because he's watching me with the same expression on his face.

I glance at the clock.  "Time's up, Sugar!"  I pick up my little purse and grab Logan by the hand, making a rush for the door.  Just as we're about to exit, I feel the strong pull of Logan's hand, yanking me back into his arms.

"You're not goin' anywhere, darlin'...Not until I get another kiss," he says with a smoldering look.  He locks his mouth onto mine, and soon I can't remember why or where I was in such a hurry to get to.  He finishes with a few soft licks and nips to my lower lip and a firm squeeze of my ass.  "Later..." he rumbles in my ear.

Quick as a flash, he's dragging me down the hall, and then we're going down the stairs, hand in hand, stealing glances at each other and laughing like a couple of kids.

When we get to the ballroom, everyone is already dancing.  Logan winks at me, and then when the timing is right, he blends us in with the crowd of dancing couples seamlessly.  It's a slow dance, the soft music beckoning us to bring our bodies together and sway to the rhythm.  I loop my arms around Logan's neck, and he wraps his hands around the small of my back.

"I don't think anyone noticed us," I say with a sigh of relief.  "We'll just say we were here like 15 minutes ago, right?"  Logan just shakes his head and grins.

"Rogue!  You finally decided to join us!" I look over my shoulder, and it's Jubilee, dancing with Remy, both with huge smirks on their faces.  Aw, hell. 

"Hey Jubes, Remy..."

"The Professor was looking for the both of you.  But don't worry, we covered for ya," she says with a wink.  "We told him that Wolvie here had a hair emergency, and you were the only one who could help him."  Jubes and Remy exchange knowing smiles.

"Uh...thanks," I stammer, unable to come up with anything better.

"Lookin' good, Wolvie," Jubes observes with an appraising look.  "And the 'debauched' look suits you well, Chica," she remarks, noting my hair.

"Oh my God!  I forgot to put my hair back up!"  I squeak.  I feel a blush coming on, all the way down to my toes.  "We were in such a hurry to get down here.  Please tell me I don't look like I just had a roll in the hay!"

"Relax, Roguey," Jubilee laughs.  "I'm just teasing.  You look beautiful."

"Agreed.  You are truly a vision, chère," says Remy.  He smiles at me fondly, and in his eyes I can see that he is truly happy for me.  He leans in to kiss my cheek.   "I told you he would come to his senses," he whispers in my ear.