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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Jen, Pete, Dot, and Meg. I didn't plan on a sequel to "Just My Imagination" but this hit and
well, who am I to resist when Rogue starts talking? I think it's kind of sucky, actually, but I can't figure out how to fix it. Of course, this means there needs to be a third story, because I must have closure. Curses!


Oh, and really, it's not Remy's fault.


I love Remy.

I do.

But something's missing.

I can't quite put my finger on what it is. He's funny, he's hot, he makes my heart race when I'm with him. But still, something is off, and it's bothering me.

We had sex for the first time the other night. It was awkward, to say the least. I mean, I expected that. Lethal skin isn't exactly an aphrodisiac, so of course, he had to be very careful, which I'm sure he isn't used to.

He was very gentle. It was my first time ever. But I didn't -- I didn't come. And I know that bothered him. Jubes tells me I should have faked it, but I couldn't do that. It would be lying. Why would anyone want to be with someone who lied about something so intimate? You could never trust that person, if they could lie to you at the moment when they're supposed to be completely open and with you.

I'm not stupid. I knew it wasn't going to be like those romance novels where it's all perfect the first time, and she comes three times before he finally finishes.

But I've got something other girls don't -- I've got Logan's memories. Admittedly, those just give the male point of view, but let's just say, none of the women he's been with complained. They could have been acting, I suppose, but with his sense of smell and the way he can hear your heartbeat, I think he'd know it.

So I figure that was all on the up-and-up.

And while I'm over the crush on him -- really, I am -- it makes me wonder what it would have been like with him.

I wish I could talk to someone about it. Jubilee thinks I'm crazy to worry, says we'll work out all the kinks. Then she made some remark about working in the kinks, but I'm not ready for that stuff yet.

It's bad enough my boyfriend and I have to wear gloves and full-body condoms when we make love. I don't think we need to add any other weird stuff.

Anyway, I could go to Jean or Storm, I guess, but I'm not comfortable with that. I know Storm would be all serene and wise and tell me that it takes time and patience.

I don't know what Jean would tell me. I worked hard to be normal around her, what with all the Logan-lust for her I've had floating around in my head. Talking about sex with her -- that would probably just bring back all the weirdness. But I do sympathize with all the boys now. It is hard to concentrate on dissecting a fetal pig when you're staring at your teacher's boobs and wondering how they'd feel in your hands.

And we're going to stop thinking like that.

I finish my shower and start getting dressed for my date with Remy. I know we're going to try the sex thing again tonight, so I dust this sparkly powder all over my skin, knowing that he probably won't even notice, because I'll be all covered up.

I reach into my jewelry box for a pair of earrings when I feel it.

Logan's tags.

He's written once or twice since he left. Short letters that don't tell me anything about him or how he's feeling.

I know he's hurting because Jean turned him down. And I'm pretty sure he's not coming back this time, which sucks, because he was my best friend, even more than Jubes or Kitty. I know he would have told me the real deal about this sex thing.

He doesn't include a return address on his letters, so I can't write and ask him. I don't think Remy would appreciate that, either.

Speaking of whom, he walks into the room as I'm standing there, half-dressed, clutching Logan's dog tags in my bare hand.

"What you doin', chere?"

"Getting ready."

He pulls on a pair of gloves and takes my hand.

"It'll get better, ma coeur. Remy promise." He knows what I've been thinking about; he's been thinking about it, too. He takes the tags and puts them back in the jewelry box. Then he kisses my hair and whispers, "Why don't we forget dinner and just have dessert?"

My heart flutters and I feel the heat between my legs, so I agree.

It's better this time, and the time after that.

After a couple of months, I stop worrying about the sex part of the relationship.

That's not what's missing.

I feel like I'm waiting for something, and I just don't know what it is.

Logan's letters are coming less and less frequently, which hurts. I know he doesn't love me, but the least he could do is keep me up-to-date on what he's doing. He knows how I feel about him.

At least, I think he does.

I pull the dog tags out. I've just gotten a letter from him. He's in Calgary for the Stampede. Says the fighting money is too good to pass up.

He signs the letter, "Yours, Logan," the way he always does, but for some reason, this time I notice it.

He's mine?

Am I his?

Is that what's missing, what I've been waiting for?

I think about that, staring out the window at the sunny day.

I love him. I know that. I'm not in love with him -- I worked hard to get over the crush while he was away the first time. Eighteen months of unrequited longing is quite enough, thanks. And when he came back, we hung out a lot, but I was already with Remy, and I didn't want him to feel jealous of Logan. I don't ever want anyone to feel the way I did when I saw Logan flirting with Jean.

When he left, I thought I was all right with that. I didn't want to be that silly girl with a crush anymore, so I was very adult. "Be careful. Don't forget to write." And a big smile. I figured that's what he wanted -- to be free of his obligation to me.

But I watched him go, and I couldn't help it. I started crying. I stood at the gate and willed him to come back, to take me with him, but he didn't. He might have looked back; I'm not sure. Things were a little blurry.

So, now I'm waiting, watching, and hoping. For what, I don't know. I can't tell how I feel about anything anymore. I didn't think it was fair to Remy, so I broke up with him a few days ago. He thinks I'm crazy. Everyone thinks I'm crazy, waiting in vain for Logan to come back and love me.

I know that I'm not number one on his priority list, but I don't mind, as long as I think there's a shot I could be with him. And I think there is -- he still writes to me, even though I know how much he hates that. He doesn't write to Jean or the Professor. He didn't ask for the tags back when he left.

It's been three years since I met him, and I still have all these feelings. I just need to know if I'm crazy or if I have a chance, so I've packed a bag. The Professor is lending me some money, and I'm heading out to Calgary, to see if I can't track down the Wolverine, and find out once and for all what this thing is between us.

I finally know what's missing. It's the piece of my heart he took with him when he left. I just hope he's willing to take the rest.

Fin
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