The Deal

Title: _The Deal

Author: _Amandasfire (Amandasfire@live.com) Feedback welcome.

Archive: Yes, to anyone and everyone who wants it, just give me credit where credit's due ^_^

Disclaimer: No, I don't own ANY OF THE CHARACTERS FROM MARVEL, nor any of the characters of X-Men the cartoon, comic, or movie, NONE of them, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WOLVERINE, JEAN, CYCLOPS, or anyone else who might get mentioned! I just borrow them, let them play, and then sneak them back home to Marvel before anyone notices they're missing.

This is a fan fiction, it's a work of fan appreciation, and I'm not selling it or making any kind of money off of it. Okay. Is that thorough enough?

Rating: _NC-17

Summary: Comicverse/Alternaverse... this branches off from that tease in New X-Men #117 where Jean... like... basically goes and offers herself to Wolvie and he turns her down. What the hell Marvel? What the hell, fire your writers! That is not what would've happened! What would've really happened would've gotten that book banned from your local cb store! Yeah ;) Anyway, this is how it SHOULD have gone down! Told from Jean's P.O.V., both before and after said incident. There's quite a lot of build up, but it's worth it, trust me!


* * *


It began with a phone call.

The whole mess began with a phone call-a drunk dial--- something I thought I'd left behind me with my college academy years. This time, though, it was different. That one call started me on a course that, months ago... well... I couldn't even have imagined.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

It was past midnight and I was awake, fighting one of the many bouts of insomnia that had been plaguing me as of late. Every night, it was the same story. Scott and I would go to bed together, I would read, he'd carefully take off his glasses, and we'd both say goodnight. Ten minutes later he'd be snoring and I'd be wide awake and not the least bit interested in counting the patterns on the ceiling.

That night, I was in the kitchen searching the fridge for something low calorie yet tasty. Emma had a good habit of stocking up on weight watcher products that I stole whenever the chance arose (the danger room only burns so many calories), when my cell phone rang. I looked at the time and saw it was close to 2am. The number was unavailable.

I hesitated for a second or two before I flipped it open, mentally shrugging. I wasn't sleeping anyway, and even if it was a heavy breather it had to be more interesting than scouring for 100 Calorie Snack Bites at two in the morning. Not to mention it's pretty difficult to prank call a telepath-considering my mind's about a hundred times better than star-sixty-nine.

"Hello?" I said.

"Jeannie," came the rough voice on the other end of the line. I recognized it immediately.

"Logan?" I said, surprised.

There was no reply, but I heard a muted clink, like glass hitting pavement. Probably dropped his beer. I wondered how much he'd had. Considering it was 2am, I was guessing a keg or six.

"Logan, where are you?" I asked, the dim glow of light in the empty kitchen making the conversation seem strangely intimate. "Are you in trouble?"

There was a slow breath at the end of the line, and then his voice again.

"Jeannie, you're beautiful baby, did I tell ya that lately..? "

I gave an over-exaggerated roll of my eyes despite the fact that no one was there to witness my performance. I could tell already I didn't like the direction this was going. Not that I couldn't take a compliment, just so much as I knew that when he sobered up it was going to get awkward.

"Logan you're drunk. Where are you?"

"Mmmat a payphone. I couldn't stop thinkin' about you darlin'.. I .. had to call, I..." his voice came through, scratchy low and desperate. "I just wanted to talk to ya, Jeannie. It seems like we never talk anymore."

Which wouldn't be my fault, I thought. I'm not the one who makes monosyllabic exits and then disappears for months at a time. But I knew better than to argue with an inebriated Wolverine.

"Logan, tell me how much you've had to drink. Did you put the bar out of business yet?"

There was a pause on the end of the line.

"I dunno Red. Lost count. Two bottles a' Jameson... eight shots of whiskey..."

"Really, that's it, eight shots? Sure it wasn't eighty?" I said sarcastically, taking a glass out of the cupboard and placing it on the counter. I got out the low fat milk and poured it slowly, cell phone cradled against my shoulder.

"Doesn' matter. What matters is what I've gotta tell you because I know if I don't now I never will. Jeannie I-"

"Logan! Wait-- think before you speak!" I said quickly, waving my hands as if he could see them, hoping to cut him off, but it came out anyway.

"I love you Jean. I been in love with you since the day I met you. I know I can't have you and it tears me up inside, it feels like something's got ahold of my guts, it feels like -"

"Logan...!" I said, squeezing my eyes shut at the onslaught of words. And then softer, "Logan, stop. Stop." I wasn't embarrassed-really, I was flattered if anything, but I knew that he was going to regret this, and knowing how it was going to be between us made me cringe.

"Listen to me! Are you listening?" I said loudly, putting a hand against my forehead. Someone was going to come home doing the walk of shame tomorrow.

"You're drunk Logan. Don't hang up, take a second to sober up-I don't want you driving -- you want to talk we'll talk. All right? I can forget this ever happened. Okay? Let's just start over. Where are you, anyway?"

I took a long drink of milk and waited for his response.

There was a silence on the end of the line.

"I gotta go," the gruff voice said suddenly.

"Wait, Logan wait I-" I started, but then there was a small chime as the line went dead.

I stood there barefoot, in the kitchen, holding my glass of milk.

More interesting than counting ceiling patterns, indeed.

* * *


After that incident, to my surprise, Wolverine never said a thing. His pride was wounded, that I knew for certain, but I thought I'd at least get a joking apology, or maybe even some crass innuendo sent my way to cover his true chagrin. Instead, he ignored me. And to my annoyance, and then alarm, it started to drive me crazy.

I knew it had just been Logan on a bender, good old Logan suddenly basking in a burst of immaturity and indulging in his perpetual self-destructive side. Nothing new. Yet, for some reason, I couldn't seem to get the words out of my head.

It was ridiculous. I heard those words every day, from my husband. Scott saying, "I love you" in passing, as he left. But it was something else... the tone of his voice. That raw need, that was something that caught at me, something that I hadn't heard in a long, long time.

"I love you Jean." Something in me couldn't let it go. I found myself daydreaming about it after I'd dismissed my class. And at night, I felt the little hairs at the back of my neck stand up as I wondered just what it would be like... but then I would only let myself wonder so far.

A little imagination can be a dangerous thing.


* * *

Logan had been gone for four days-skulking into the mansion during the daytime and disappearing at night-when I finally decided to go see him. I thought our distance was pointless, and nothing that couldn't be fixed with a few easy words. He obviously wasn't going to do it, so I chose to be the bigger person and sort this out.

Carefully, I cast my mind out like a net, encompassing the forest that surrounded the land. After a few minutes of searching, I saw his mind, bright and pulsing like a star. I started out on a path towards the forest, fully intending to smooth things over between us.

It was a good two miles out from the mansion, and I was slightly winded by the time I got there. He was doing some kind of yoga, or meditation. It made his mind glow. A few meters before I reached the clearing, I telepathically transformed myself into the illusion of a deer, knowing Logan would immediately sniff me out. I saw the small smile on his face as he recognized me, and I dropped the psy-image, glad he'd appreciated the joke. Bingo, his defenses were down.

"Long climb for a fortune cookie, Jeannie," he'd said, his back to me, and his voice was the gravelly smooth calm of someone far off, so different from the emotional turmoil that was brewing inside of me.

I had only good intentions-just a friendly chat. Then I started talking to him. Before I knew it, what had started as a simple greeting turned into a messy confessional.

"My telekinetic gifts are coming back, and it's like this big muscle...and I feel so strong and alive and Scott...Scott's just somewhere else..."

Once I had started going, I couldn't stop.

To make a long and personally painful story short--I ended up spilling my heart out to him. Everything, all at once: Scott, my powers, the countless worries that had kept me up night after night. It had been building in my mind for so long that it all came out wrong, jumbled and disjointed.

When I'd finished talking, he'd pulled me to him and my heartbeat tripled. I thought--I knew--it was finally going to happen.

His lips touched mine with a small jolt of electricity...and then he, not I, pulled away. He ran one hand lightly through my hair, a serious look in his eyes, and then he said the words.

"We both know the deal. We always have. It would never work between us."

The words hit me like a slap in the face. Honestly, I think part of me just couldn't believe he'd said what I heard him say. It wasn't what I was expecting. Ever the repressed telepath, I managed to maintain my composure and hide my disappointment and surprise, but inside I was seething. I backed away from him a few feet, feeling suddenly foolish.

"I know. You're right Logan, of course..." I said, trying to keep my voice even as a bitter taste formed in my mouth.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I...don't know what I was thinking. I should-I should go back, they're expecting me."

I turned and walked away, my face hot with humiliation, frustration, a light tingling sensation still playing on my lips.

Logan couldn't sense the deep hurt-the embarrassment of it-because I had my shields on high, but God, I did. I felt it like a knife cutting into my skin.

Shallow as it sounds, to say it was a blow to my ego would be the understatement of the year. It put me under a dark cloud that seemed to follow me everywhere I went, a lightless place from which I could not emerge.

Logan. Wolverine. All these years...he'd chased me. Pursued me. Relentlessly, aggressively. Dogged me at every turn. Driven Scott to the brink of insanity. He'd tested, teased, pushed until I had no choice but to push back. And I had never come to him, never initiated any of it, until now.

And he'd flat out turned me down.

Why? Why all that effort just to let me slip through his fingers? Had I really sunk that low, or was this just some twisted sense of honor he felt he had to uphold?

Jesus. I'd had two men battling for my affections and now I couldn't even get a man to hold me out of pity. An estranged husband was bad enough, but this...

I wondered if Logan knew. I wondered if somewhere inside he felt smug about it, or if he felt the loss as acutely as I did. Was he bluffing? With Wolverine, it was always impossible to tell.

I wanted nothing more than to find out.


* * *

Things got worse with Scott. I'm not saying this to defend my actions, or try to justify anything that happened, but it was the truth. He had been cold and distant as of late, and even though we shared a psy-link I was met by an icy silence in his head.

We shared a bed together, but that was all. When we made love, it was infrequent and perfunctory. He was always a cautious, polite lover, and made sure I was satisfied first, but often I got the feeling he was just going through the motions-this is something you're supposed to do with your wife, so we'll do it, and then we can both go to sleep.

I knew he thought about Emma. He tried to shield it from me, but I knew, and I didn't care.

Insomnia-every night, I would lie awake. Think about the missions. Think about what I could do differently next time. Think about my marriage, my life, the burden of my power. And then I would always end up thinking about that stupid phone call, and our kiss. It tortured me, thinking about that kiss.

I don't know what made me decide to do it, finally. We'd had a long day. I'd had a terribly unimpressive presentation at a very important summit meeting and I came home feeling tired and cross. Scott had ignored me and I'd snapped at him. I know I should've felt bad about it, but in truth I felt nothing at all.

I felt nothing. I think it was at that moment, as the words "Scott, I don't care!" were coming out of my mouth, that I knew what I was going to do.

I stayed up that night, watched the moon rise, my whole body singing with anticipation. I'd run over and over the fantasy so many times in my head, but I'd never thought of it being real...until now. Here I was, and I was contemplating adultery. I was thinking of cheating. I had no trouble admitting it to myself, because nothing was going to cushion the blow this time. I'd always hidden, I'd always run. Now I was going to face it down. I was going to face Logan down, and I wasn't going to walk away until I found our truth.

So many times, for so many years I'd been put in the same situation, and every time I'd backed down, turned away. I was sick of my own cowardice, thinly disguised as moral objection. Just once, I wanted to be the one to give in to my passions. I was tired of being perfect. All perfection ever brought was misery.

Those were excuses, and I knew it, but it didn't stop me from wanting to stray.

Scott had done it. Was doing it with Emma. He certainly seemed to have no qualms about kicking me out of his head, seemed to have no problems with my suspicious glances shot his way, my silent anger. So why shouldn't I do the same? All these years, the same siren song had been calling to me. The same spark had brushed between us. And I, I had ignored it. I'd turned my head. I'd said no. I'd said no so many times when I'd wanted to say yes, give in, be pulled in by the tide and drown with him. Logan.

Logan. God, him of all people turning me away. I could feel my face and neck burn just thinking about it. The one time I didn't have the strength to say no anymore, and he says it instead. I felt the burning spread to my chest. I thought of the phone call. No matter what he says when he's sober, no matter how noble he wants to be, I know what I mean to him.

Everything.

When the mansion was in a state of quiet, a static psychic snow of dreaming minds, I stepped outside.

I took the familiar trail over the hill and onto the small cliff that overlooked the point where the forest grew dense. It was dark, but the inky black was illuminated by moonlight. As the warm glow from the mansion faded behind me I walked on, sinking deeper into the night.

My mind led me to the same place, the same clearing, two miles out.

I knew he was there before I saw him. All I could see was the dark outline of a man, but the posture was unmistakable. He was on his haunches, staring intently at something through the trees too far away for me to see. My hand accidentally brushed against a branch in the dark and he immediately stood up and turned in one fluid movement to face me. I saw his fist instinctively clench, but his claws remained sheathed.

"Jeannie?" he asked, rather curiously, his face obscured by the dark.

Suddenly, seeing him there in the flesh, hearing his voice, made it too real. All plans of seduction flew out of my head. I felt myself blushing, awkward. He took a step towards me and my heartbeat jumped. What was I doing?

"You all right darlin'?" he asked, his tone still curious.

"Yes, I - " I stammered, trying to regain my composure. I pulled my hair back from my face, looking away from him. "I-couldn't sleep," I finished lamely.

Logan chuckled. "Well ya came to the right place. Wolverine in the middle of the woods, doesn't get more exciting than this."

"Guess not," I said, forcing a short laugh. In the soft light, I could see that he was shirtless and a sudden wave of arousal swept through me so strongly that my knees felt weak.

"You're shaking," he said, and I felt his eyes glide quickly over me like a predator.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"I'm cold," I lied, and to my horror and amazement, the words came out sounding low and seductive. I could feel him so close to me, radiating warmth. He gave me an odd look.

"Jeannie, it's 85 degrees out here, you gotta be kiddin' me."

"Warm me up," I said, moving in. It didn't feel real, I didn't feel in control of my body, I just knew that I was moving towards him, leaning into him. I placed my hands over his heavily muscled shoulders and felt a light shiver run through him.

"Jean," he said, a sharp twinge entering his tone. But he hadn't moved away. He was standing still, trying to figure me out.

"What're you doing darlin'?" His voice was lower, almost a soft growl. "I mean, what're you really doing?"

"I know what you want," I said. Suddenly finding the courage to abandon all pretense, I pressed my body against his, my breasts against his chest, my hips against his. "I know," I whispered, looking pleadingly up at him, " I want it too, Logan. Just once. It's been so long and..."

It tried to push closer, but it was like touching a wall made of stone-his whole body was stiff and I could feel the agitation rolling off his mind in waves.

"Jean, stop," he said roughly, and his tone of voice shocked me. I looked into his face and I saw an expression of anger, made harsh by the deep shadows.

"Look, Jeannie," he growled. "I thought we were on the same page with this. It won't work. We've agreed." He turned his back to me. "You have a husband. You have Scott."

He turned again to face me, his body language restless, pacing. "You know where we stand. Why are you doing this to me now?"

He stopped in his tracks and looked me straight in the eyes, the keen suspicion shining through. I looked away, confused and flustered. It hit me. He didn't trust me. He thought this was a trick.

"Am I some little game a yours Jeannie, 'cause you got bored?" He asked, his eyes flashing. "'Cause you know how I feel. You've always known how I felt."

"Then why won't you let me..?" I asked, moving towards him. He backed away as if my very presence burned him.

"It ain't right. This isn't...you're not thinkin' straight Jean, and I don't want to be the one to take advantage. I thought I made it clear last time. I know where I stand, I ain't as stupid you think. I know I'm just some goddamn pawn in this thing you've got going on between you an' Emma and him."

His voice was unmistakably bitter and he clenched his fists so tightly I winced, expecting to hear the metallic snikt of his claws, but it never happened. He just stood there, like a man trapped.

I moved forward to try and touch him again, but he grabbed both hands by my wrists, hard enough to hurt. I felt a little spike of fear shoot through me but I stood my ground.

"It's not a game Logan," I said indignantly, struggling against him.

"So what if it doesn't work, so what if we-if we aren't supposed to-- I don't care!" I said loudly enough I heard my voice echo off the trees. "I want this. I don't need you to feel sorry for me, or look after me, I know what I want!"

"You can't deny me!" I blurted out, and I saw his jaw tighten.

We stood mere inches apart, our eyes locked. Slowly, he released his grip on my wrists.

"You can smell it on me, can't you Logan? You know I'm not lying. You know exactly what I came here for. If you didn't want it too, you'd be gone by now."

His eyes flickered down. Caught. I had the upper hand, momentarily.

I moved in again and he didn't stop me. I ran my hands down his chest, against his stomach. His head angled down only so slightly and I felt his breath, hot against my ear. I knew he was scenting me, breathing me in, knew it was breaking down his defenses. I pressed my face against his neck, feeling his heat and whispered, "Don't make me beg, Logan."

I could feel his body taut underneath my hands. He was straining, energy humming in his bones.

"Please," I whispered, so quietly I could barely hear myself. I could feel his pulse, strong and alive. I angled my head slightly so that my lips were against his skin, just barely brushing his neck. "I want it. I want you. Just for tonight, that's all, I promise."

"Jeannie," he said, his voice shaking, "Don't. You don't know what you're askin' for darlin' and I can't... I can't stop myself. You don't know what you do to me, Jean,"

The last part turned into a plea. His hands came up to tangle in my hair, smoothing their way down my back, and I could tell he was using all his strength to be gentle, hold back. I could feel it. He was cracking, trying to be the honorable one, but he knew that in the end he was going to lose. The sense of power made me dizzy, and I wondered how well he could sense my arousal, how far it would push him over the edge.

So I decided to throw in my hand, give him no doubt as to my intentions. Without hesitation, I took my shirt by the hem and pulled it up over my head. I unhooked my bra and threw it aside. I was breathing so hard, my face was flushed, and all I wanted to do was tease him enough that he'd break free, run for me, take me down with him.

"Don't argue with me, Logan. I want you, now." I said to him in a low, serious tone. We were both breathing quickly.

"Fuck me Logan."

I saw his whole body shift, his muscles tensing.

"Jean," he growled, low and dangerous. It sent a shiver all the way down my spine. Yes, this is what I wanted out of him. The animal. Something deep and primal that had always pulled me to him. The thing that terrified me, fascinated me. I was in its grip now, and too caught up to back down.

"Logan...," I hissed, and I could feel the Phoenix prickling just underneath my skin, lightening behind my eyes. "Now."

In a movement so quick and graceful I didn't even see it happen, his hot mouth was on mine. I felt his rough hand come up and cup my breast as he effortlessly lifted me, pressing my back against a tree and pinning me there.

I was gasping, shocked, this assault on my senses. It was everything I wanted and more, coming at me so fast I could hardly stand it. I kissed him back savagely, mindlessly, twisting both my hands in his hair as he bit me gently on the neck, little pinpricks on my skin.

I could feel the heavy bulge in his jeans grinding against my thigh and I tried to free one of my hands to struggle with the zipper. In a move that I found inexplicably arousing, he brushed my hand aside with his and pulled his cock out himself in one move. My hands were immediately there, on it, and I felt a wave of heat move through my body. He was rock hard, long, and thick. It was better than I'd even imagined.

And I have imagined it, I thought at him. I got a sudden flash of primal desire on his end, a hot and thick current of heat directed towards me.

"So've I," he growled at me huskily before taking one of my nipples into his mouth and sucking it hard enough to make me moan.

You have a gorgeous cock, I thought wickedly at him, and in response he snarled and pushed me up against the tree again, and for a moment I saw myself through his eyes, the pure lust and instinct coursing through his body. He thrust his tongue into my mouth, drowning me in sensation. Tangled together, hands and mouths moving, I urgently tried to get my own pants off, but they were my uniform pants, tight leather, and I only succeeded in lifting one bare leg up against his hip. I finally managed to kick them off and he ripped off my panties without a second thought, tossing them aside.

He's going to fuck just like he fights, I thought dizzily, the thought running a pleasurable spark through my body. It was the way he moved that was so familiar to me, the same way he was in combat, the assured swift and graceful gestures. It never occurred to me that same motion and control would apply to sex as well and it turned me on beyond belief. I dug my fingernails into his biceps, repeating one thought in my mind. Yes Logan, yes.

Effortlessly, he took me in one arm and lay me down against the ground. I realized we were both fully naked, his hot skin against mine. I felt the soft grass press into my back and then his weight as he lay over me, supporting himself with one arm, the other hand slipping between my legs and testing the slickness there. I gasped and arched towards his touch, locking my legs around his waist. I felt his broad rough fingers skating over me, probing my wetness, pausing when I gasped or whimpered. I could tell it was driving him wild, that he was trying to be controlled but his impatience was burning through. He was impossibly hard, pressed up against my stomach and a small part of me couldn't help but wonder is this going to hurt?

I reached up and pushed one hand into his hair, jet black and thick, god I'd wanted to feel it like this for so long... and I pulled his face down to mine, let him kiss me deeply. Sin had never tasted so sweet and for a second I couldn't believe I'd held back all these years. Then I felt the tip of his penis push against me and I moaned in an unrecognizable voice. All I could think was yes yes yes. which I was sure I was projecting loud enough for him and anyone within a mile radius to hear. But he paused there, against me, and I could feel his entire body trembling, all that power, all that dangerous coiled strength and intensity being held still by pure force of will.

"Logan," I said against his ear, "Inside me...ohhh... I need you.."

"Jeannie," he said, and it turned into a low growl that sent shivers up and down my entire body. I'd never felt so turned on in my life, and knowing he was literally hanging by a thread made it doubly arousing.

"Logan, please, now! I need you inside me," I said urgently, voice somewhere between a moan and a whisper, arching against his body running my nails down his back.

"Jean," he gasped raggedly, and I could tell his entire face was contorting. "Jean, I can't...hold back...If we do this... god...I've wanted this for so long..." I could feel the intense strain and anguish in his voice and it drove me to even greater heights. His efforts were admirable, but he against me they were nothing, and I knew it. And I loved it.

I could sense it, feel it--Logan wanted it so bad he was half delirious, but he couldn't allow himself the pleasure without my permission. I found it ludicrously touching, but really I didn't care about anything at that moment except him being inside me, now.

"Yes," I whispered, eyes focusing on him so that he'd see that I was right there with him, feeling, tasting, completely and utterly aware. "Don't stop. I want this. I want it just like this. Do it."

I saw something black and fierce glint in his eyes as he broke, and I felt a sudden splitting pain and pleasure so sharp that I felt like my entire world had divided. He thrust up all the way inside me, filling me, but I was so wet that he slid in easily, growling in satisfaction, and I could hear his thoughts racing through my head, God she's tight ah so fucking good feels like heaven ...

We were both suddenly frantic, desperately wild. It was like whatever reservations we'd had were set free and now it was down to this, the consuming passion, the moment I had waited for, what felt like all my life.

I felt like my whole body was in flames, and low in my stomach, between my legs, the white-hot heat was gathering. Logan was pounding at me mercilessly, harder and faster than my mind could process, and his hands were tangled in my hair, his lips on my face, my breasts, and with a single loud cry I suddenly came around him harder than I'd ever come before, sobbing out his name, the intensity surprising me, tears spilling from the corners of my eyes.

He backed off for a second, watched me as I came with abandon, Logan Logan Logan in my head and on my lips. He was watching me with a predator's intense gaze, pupils fully dilated so that his eyes looked black, the raw satisfaction showing clearly on his ruggedly handsome face. Grasping my hips in his large hands, He thrust in slow and deep a few times, waiting for me to come back, and then when I my mind had cleared and I was thrusting back at him he sped up again and buried his head in my hair, against my neck, moaning, "Ohhh, Jeannie... god."

I had a second orgasm right on top of the first, and I rode it out just as I felt his cock swell inside of me. As his hips snapped forward, the one hand clutching my ass suddenly pulled away to support his full weight on both arms. As he thrust once more, savagely, he tilted his head back and roared, and my entire body jumped in a thrill of fear as the claws on one hand unsheathed, buried themselves in the ground, and I felt him coming, hot and wet, over and over inside of me.

Just as suddenly, everything went limp. His claws retracted and I felt his weight come down on me, nearly crushing me, but at the last minute he slid an arm under me and rolled me against his side. Both of us were breathing hard, gasping, the insides of my thighs slick and wet, our bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

Everything had happened so quickly, so intensely... my body had reacted so violently that my mind hadn't caught up yet.

I still felt him inside of me, and as I saw the possessive, tender look in his eyes as he slowly pulled out, "Mine," he growled softly. Leaning his head forward to deeply breathe in the scent of my neck, nip me gently, move his lips there. I realized that I had been crying, tears running down my face, and the realization shocked me as I wiped them away.

For a few seconds we both just breathed, trying to fade back into reality. My entire world was simply sensation-the warmth and weight of Logan against me, his heat, the scratchiness of his chest hair pressing against the tender skin of my breasts, the dampness of the grass against my skin-I felt so overwhelmingly alive, so aware of every little thing.

"Jesus Christ," Logan said softly, his body still wrapped against mine. I looked at him with helpless eyes and nodded mutely.

It was only a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. I wanted to lie there with him, to fall asleep protected, with his warmth around me. Somehow that idea felt so right. But I couldn't. There were so many reasons why I couldn't, and then I knew what I had to do, now that it was done.

I had to forget this.

I had to leave, and I had to do it now, while I still could.

"I-I have to go Logan," I stammered, pushing myself away from him, away from his warmth. I could feel his arms reluctantly move to let me up.

It was just a dream. It was just a fantasy. It was never meant to be real.

Oh god had it really just happened? Was I really here?

Disengaging myself from the inviting heat of his body, I stumbled to my feet and walked naked, my feet padding against the dirt and rocks as I went to pick up my scattered clothes.

It was just a fantasy, something I fulfilled and now I could move on.

Right?

In a daze, I gathered my torn shirt and my ripped uniform pants. I realized I had lost a shoe and looked around, but my head felt like it was floating away.

"I love you Jeannie," I heard softly.

I looked back to Wolverine, but where he had been crouched, watching me, he was gone.

I staggered back to the mansion a complete wreck. I honestly don't even know how I made it, more so how I made it without anyone seeing me, because the game would have been up. I was in no condition to make up some brilliant lie, it was all I could do to keep my legs moving. I was alternately sobbing and laughing, and my body felt like it was on fire. Everywhere, everything, I was remembering it, psychic video, playing through my head, his rough hands, his hot mouth, the amazing feeling of being filled by him, possessed by him, consuming each other...I'd never felt, never done anything like that before.

I slipped inside and got in the shower. With the glass door closed, I slid down the shower wall and sat, letting the warm water hit my face like staccato raindrops. I spent a few minutes just trying to breath, pulling all my pieces back together. I washed my hair and saw a leaf float down the drain. I toweled off and climbed into bed with Scott.

* * *

I only lasted three days and then I was back again.

It was wordless, we didn't even say hello, he just saw me and took me into his arms.

We made love on the grass, my back pressing into the twigs and leaves and he held up my knees and thrust slowly, so deep that we were both moaning shamelessly. This time he came fast, within the first few thrusts and was immediately hard again, moving slickly in my body. I came, calling out his name, and then when I was blissfully exhausted and my bones felt like rubber and my skin was insanely alive to his fingers he pulled out and went down on me.

He licked my entrance once, slowly, and then started a rhythm, fucking me with his tongue. My hips twisted in his grasp, and he started lapping at my clit, burying his whole face in me, one hand reaching up to cup a breast. I came so hard I couldn't breathe.

When I finally opened my eyes to the world I saw him kneeling over me, naked, with a cheeky grin on his face. You got no idea how long I've been wantin' to do that.

I put my hand between his legs, cupping his balls, and his smug expression was instantly gone, replaced with a muffled groan. I pushed him back down on the ground, straddled him and rode him hard, and then I watched him come... watched the beautiful feral pleasure suddenly take over his face, the undisguised fall over the edge, the way he suddenly frantically grabbed me by the hips and punished me, forgetting his gentleness and caution, pushing himself as deep as he could go while he pumped his hot semen inside me.

He loved to hold me afterwards, to breathe me in. I would let him, for a few minutes, the most precious minutes these days, and then I would leave.

He would always follow me with the same words, "I love you Jeannie."

I was always walking away when he said it, and I was glad my back was turned and my psychic shields were up because that way he couldn't see me crying.


* * *

It all started to unravel because I couldn't stop. It wasn't part of my plan. This was supposed to be a one time affair, the one dalliance to satisfy the lingering craving I'd always felt right there beneath the surface, but in a very short amount of time I felt hopelessly addicted.

The next night, I found myself out in the field, moaning as Logan pushed himself into me, on top of me, kissing my neck, licking down my shoulder, sucking my nipples. It was incredible, like neither of us could get enough. His insane need for me, his utter base instinct when it came to making love to me, fucking me in ways I'd never felt before. He flipped me over and gave it to me rough and fast, one hand grasping my hip with animalistic need, riding me and rubbing my clit while I cried out. He came twice in quick succession, then turned to face me, kissing me, holding me, and then he would thrust slow and long, tasting my mouth like a delicacy, running his fingers up and down my thighs, drawing it out, making the sex slow and agonizing and so intense I felt us both beginning to burn. I heard his breath catch in a sob as I watched him come for the third time, saying my name, his hands cradling my face.

I loved the expression on his face, expressions I never saw in the daylight. He was always so guarded, but not here. Not with me. The pleasure and pain mingling, and then the split second of utter vulnerability as he shuddered and said my name, his heavily muscled shoulders tensing, then releasing, his cock stiff inside of me. I relished those moments, daydreamed about them, thought about them all day long as I carried on through the normal, dreary day.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he'd murmur to me afterwards as I lay against him, stealing his warmth. "I want to do this with you forever. Jeannie, you set me on fire,"

I wanted it forever too, but I couldn't say it. I just kept coming back, until every week turned into every night and I was trying to hide bruises-his thumbprint on my hip,.his smell on my skin, the dazed look I wore everywhere as the pleasure slowly dissipated in my body.

I swore that it was over, that I quit. And then, the next night, I'd come back.

He loved watching me come too, sometimes fingering me until I reached the edge, and then thrusting in a few times, his eyes trained intently on my face as I gave into total abandonment and screamed out his name. I knew he loved it when I said his name out loud, I could feel the satisfaction radiating from him. Afterwards he would always kiss me so slowly, so deeply that I felt dizzy.

It happened so fast, so strangely, so secretively that I felt like I was two separate people, living two separate lives.

I was falling so in love with him, and at the same time I was falling apart.

I couldn't believe that no one seemed to notice it, since I felt like I was walking around with a big sign that said, "JUST HAD SEX WITH LOGAN!" around my neck. I could barely concentrate enough to speak normally in classes, I would just be thinking eagerly about what would happen when midnight came around.

I stopped sleeping with Scott altogether-I was afraid to, afraid that if I let him close to me the images, the feelings, would come spilling out like a broken dam and he'd see it all. He didn't say anything about it. I wondered if part of him was relieved he didn't have to pretend anymore.

In the house, Logan and I avoided each other like the plague. He would see me and quickly turn the corner, eyes downcast, expression a scowl.

And I, I was constantly thinking of a lie to tell Scott when we awoke to find me gone. I was hungry. I was on a walk. I felt sick. I'd gotten up to go to the bathroom. He couldn't have believed it-if he'd been paying attention or cared. He wasn't, he didn't, and that's how things between us stayed.

* * *

I knew it wouldn't last.

The night before, Logan had made love to me, and after pulling out he stroked my hair and we just looked in each other's eyes. He whispered my name and it sounded so sad that I reached forward and kissed him on the lips.

It was a slow kiss, as I let my tongue feel its way around his fangs and breathed in the sweet smell of our sweat. The way he kissed me-God, it made me weak. His whole body was fully trained on me, all his attention and focus poured into moving against my lips, stroking me with his tongue. I'd never been kissed like that before and I gave myself up to it, let the intensity wipe my mind clean until the whole universe was reduced to just him and me.

He pulled back and kissed me on the face again, silently, stubble scratching my cheek.

And then I almost said it. In my mind, Logan I love you was clear. But the words choked in my throat.

"Logan I...."

He was holding me against him, and I loved how solid he was, how the ridges of his muscles stood out in the low light, how his heat seemed to bathe me in a warm, pleasurable cocoon. I love you, I wanted to say. You have me. I am yours, completely. I can't stop. I can't deny this anymore. You and me, Wolverine and Phoenix, we were always made to fit together like this and I understand now.

Logan, I'm yours.

I said nothing.

I couldn't finish the sentence and he just looked at me with unreadable eyes, and then turned away, running his hands down the small of my back, through my hair, feeling the smooth skin and brushing the red strands out of my eyes.

"Jeannie, it's almost light out. You should go."

I tried to look him in the eye and he refused. He looked down. He looked anywhere but at my face, and at that moment the shame, the guilt, the cowardice I felt overwhelmed me. I was disgusted with myself, hopeless.

That time I didn't even bother to hide my tears as I picked up my tattered clothes and began the now familiar walk back to the mansion. I looked back, my face streaked with salt and I saw him standing there in the beginning of the dawn light, head hanging, arms dangling at his sides, a man defeated.

He knew he couldn't win this. He'd always known. He loved me anyway.

That next day we practically stayed on opposite sides of the mansion, avoiding any chance social encounters. That night I didn't come. I couldn't face him. I knew that I had pushed too far at my own game, and now it was me who was about to lose. I'd taken a gamble and fallen in love with a man who was not my husband, a man who was part animal, part wild, and all I wanted to do was give all of myself to him, to be with him really, not just under cover of night. I couldn't. Everything I'd ever learned, all the rules, said I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I felt like I'd been ripped in half. I felt so hollow.

I stayed away.

Sometimes at night after Scott was asleep, I hid my behind my psy-shields and I thought about it and burned. I remembered like vivid footprints, his hands all over my body, the way he smelled, the way our minds bled together when the pleasure got too intense and it would set us both off. But I could never get the last time out of my head, those sad eyes as he looked at me, his soul bare, and I'd turned away.

I stayed away.

A few mornings later I'd woken up early and decided to get some coffee. I headed into the kitchen, and suddenly a wave of nausea swept me. I was so surprised by it I didn't even have time to move, I leaned forward over the sink and retched. I gagged once or twice, then spit, putting a hand against my chest as a sudden wave of dizziness swept though me.

I looked to my right and saw that Scott was standing in one entryway of the kitchen, holding a cup of Colombian and looking concerned.

"Honey..?" he asked in a worried voice.

I was about to placate him when I looked to my left and saw Logan standing at the other entrance, and he looked white as a sheet. That made me nauseous all over again and, in what could not have been my proudest moment, I leaned over and puked up most of what I'd eaten last night. Cool whip. Thanks Emma.

Shaking, I turned on the faucet and made a careful point of not looking at Logan.

"Oh shit," I heard him say.

"What?" Scott asked.

"Oh shit I uh... left...I left the toaster on last night," Logan said, certifying him as the world's worst liar. Then he cleared his throat and stared intently at his boots.

"Are you okay Jean?" Scott asked, coming up to rub my back. "Do you need a doctor?"

Yeah, a head doctor, I thought as I stared into the swirling water. What the hell have I done? What have I been doing? Oh god, let this please not be what I think it is.

I stood there seriously wanting to die, because somehow I knew it. I'm not sure how, but I knew right then and there what it was. If there had been any way to dig a psychic hole in the ground and just curl up and die in it, I would have. As it was, I was just trying to stay conscious and keep a handle on the situation.

I think that Logan was literally frozen in place unable to move, and I felt the bile in my stomach rise again as we both began to think the same thing. Oh god.

"I'm all right," I said hastily, ignoring Logan and turning to Scott, trying to put a cheerful tone into my voice. "I just... it must be the flu."

"Are you sure?" Scott asked, then peered around me and said, "Logan, do you need something in here? Is there a reason you're just standing there watching my wife get sick?"

"Uh, I uh--beer me, Scotty," Logan said with such practiced nonchalance that I wanted to scream.

"I'm fine Scott, really," I assured my husband, summoning the will to drink a glass of water and hold it up. "See, fine, it's probably just a 24 hour bug."


* * *

The moment I'd been dreading happened an hour later.

Logan cornered me in the hallway. There was no one around and suddenly he was there, his presence, familiar and arousing because I'd associated it with our trysts in the woods.

"Jeannie,"

"Not now Logan," I said, pushing him away and quickly continuing down the hallway. I knew it was a futile attempt to escape, but I couldn't face this. Not now.

He grabbed my hand and I threw it off. In three quick steps he had put an arm on either side of me and I was forced to look at him as I stood, shaking.

"You're pregnant," he said, matter-of-factly. The words made my mouth go dry and I felt like I had swallowed cotton. I used both hands to try and shove him away, to no avail.

"No I'm not," I said, and attempted to duck out of his grasp. He pulled his arms in, pinning me. I wanted to slap the calm expression off his face.

"Yeah, you are," he said, raising an eyebrow at me.

"You don't know that," I said angrily, wiping at my eyes, cursing my damn tearful emotional state and looking at him defiantly. He didn't seem mad, more, apologetic.

"Yes I do," He said in an almost curious tone of voice - he's not panicked! Of course he's not panicked, it's not him that's-oh god. How is this happening to me? All these years, it's never happened, and now--

"You smell different, I can tell. I thought it might be...that... but until now I didn't know for sure..." Logan trailed off, but his tone of voice was casual. He was talking as nonchalantly as if we'd been having a conversation about toast. "Besides, it's been more'n a month since..."

"Wait--you can smell it?" I nearly screamed in disbelief. And then, eyes narrowing, "You keep track of my cycles? What kind of sick fucking joke is-"

"Shhh!" Logan hissed, "Unless you want the whole goddamn mansion to find out about this."

"You knew and you didn't tell me!" I seethed at him. I don't think I've ever hated a man as much as I did with Logan at that moment. I wanted nothing more than to psychically gut him, rip out his heart and let him feel the pain and confusion that had been suddenly thrown onto my shoulders.

But then he said the words that hit me in the chest, knocked the wind out of me.

"Jeannie, it's our baby," he said, and his voice held wonder.

Hearing those words out loud made my head spin, made me want to shout for joy and throw up all at once. Oh, god, no. It was the right thing at the wrong time. It was such a big mess I couldn't even begin to wrap my head around it.

"You mean it's MY baby Logan, and... shit... oh my god, I'm pregnant. Oh fuck. How could we... how could I let this happen?"

I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate, felt the precious control I've cultivated for so long begin to slip through my fingers as my life unraveled right before my eyes. I'd relied on that control, my responsibility, for so long. How could this be happening to me? My hands were shaking and I felt faint.

"Hey," Logan said softly, "Calm down. It'll be okay. It's my fault too. I thought you were... ya know... on somethin' or we would've used uh .. ya know...it's me too."

"I AM on something!" I whispered loudly at him, trying to control my voice. "I've been on something since I was seventeen! This never happened, never! And then YOU!"

I balled my hands into fists, feeling my nails cut into my palms almost hard enough to break the skin. "YOU Logan! God, with your ... crazy fucking regenerating sperm or whatever you have... this is all your fault!"

Logan started chuckling and I was so angry that I couldn't even see straight. In what could only be later explained as a long awaited explosion of bottled anger, I telekinetically picked up him straight off the ground and hurled him against the nearest wall. He gave a startled yell as he flew. He fell gracelessly with a crash that the whole mansion probably heard, but at that point I was well beyond caring. I was beyond everything at that point.

Before he could recover I pinned him against the wall with my mind.

"This isn't fucking funny." I said to him darkly, and I felt the Phoenix flare up beneath the surface pushing at the back of my mind.

His expression changed and I could see real contrition in his eyes. And pain. I think I'd dislocated his shoulder. "Jeannie, baby, I'm sorry, look, it's just that... I love you and ..."

"A-hem."

A small cough broke my concentration and Wolverine fell off the wall, landing with a thump on the floor. We both looked over to see Hank standing in the hallway.

"Excuse me," he said, blushing so deeply under his blue that I thought his face was going to burn off. "Excuse me. I didn't mean to interrupt. I didn't mean to bother, I just-"

Logan and I looked at each other.

"I was simply trying to get to the-to the lab, I-you see, I" he stopped, unable to continue.

"What did you hear Hank?" Logan demanded, striding up and adopting a menacing expression.

"I uh.. you see.." Hank said, so painfully awkward I almost felt sorry for him, "As it is, I don't believe it's really my business to delve into this kind of ..."

"Hank," Logan said hoarsely, a dark glowering look on his brow that would've felled a softer man, "Tell me what ya heard, and tell me now."

At the same time Logan said this he took the opportunity to grab his own shoulder and pop it audibly back into place, making McCoy flinch.

"I uh, well I," Hank said, his voice getting progressively quieter, "It appears as if you, Jean, are...carrying...Logan's...child...or so it seems."

Upon saying these words Hank wrung his hands so desperately and blushed so brightly that I was pretty sure he was going to collapse.

"Okay," Logan said thoughtfully, "Damage control. Jean, can you erase his mind?"

"Excuse me!" Hank said loudly, "I'd rather not!"

"No," I said, feeling my heart sink. "No. This is...this has gone on for too long."

I felt the tension ebbing away, leaving me as it slowly dawned on me, what I was going to have to do. I gave a deep and shuddering sigh before I spoke.

"This is ridiculous and it's my fault. All of it. Hank, I'm sorry. I don't know who I am anymore, I don't know how this happened... but people deserve to know. Scott deserves to know. Logan, you deserve to know."

Hank stood there awkwardly and held his large blue paws up in a 'no apology needed,' gesture. I wasn't sure he had the power of speech back yet.

"You want me ta know what?" Logan asked suspiciously, staring at me with the raw and vulnerable face of a man who has been hurt and broken so many times he knows nothing else. I hated to see it. I hated myself. It's the last time, I thought to myself, the last time I'll ever see you look at me like that Logan. Like you're expecting me to cut your heart out and hand it to you.

No more. It's time to be brave, Jean.

"I love you Logan," I said softly. "I'm in love with you. I should've said it sooner. I should've done this the right way, and instead..."

I hung my head. I put my hands up to my face.

"Oh god, I messed it up, and now I don't know what to do," I said, my voice finally breaking.

Instantly, large arms closed around me, embraced me. This time I didn't back away, I let myself be comforted, let my head rest against his shoulder. Breathed in the heady smell of Logan, sweet and musky and wild and kind of smoky. It was good. It felt good. It felt so right, like I belonged.

"I want this Jeannie," he said, "You don't have to be so upset sweetheart. I mean, it's your choice, what you do, but there's nothing in the world I'd rather want than to be with you, have kids, be a...be a family...all of it Jean, it's only you. I swear ta god, I been around a long time, longer than even I know, and it's only ever been you."

His voice was a low rumble against my ear, his embrace complete.

"I know I've had my share a' women in life, Jean, but out of everyone I've ever met, I've never loved somebody the way I love you. And that's why I couldn't say no darlin', I could never say no to you."

It was then I realized the final piece to the puzzle, finally recognized the mystery that was Logan. I'd mistaken it all along. See, Scott...Scott loved me out of choice.

Logan...Logan loved me because he knew no other way. He loved me like a man, but he loved me like an animal too, with the kind of total unwavering loyalty most people were totally incapable of comprehending, never mind bestowing on another.

All these years he hadn't been needling Scott just to get his kicks (although I'm sure he didn't mind that part of it), but really, underneath, it was just because his love for me was a part of him, as imprinted and tangible as his claws or his senses. It was always there, regardless of if he killed or was killed, if he left, if he stayed, it was always there.

It would always be there. I could refuse him, deny him, reject him, and it would change nothing. He loved me as if it was in his very genes. Maybe it was.

I closed my eyes, letting the world slide away so that for a moment, I could believe it. I thought of that beautiful life, of a man who worshipped the fierce part of me, the dark parts of me, all parts of me...and then it all melted away like a thin kaleidoscope of colors.

"A-hem," came the small utterance.

We both turned and looked at Hank, annoyed.

"I'll just be going now," he said immediately, turned on his heel and practically ran down the hallway.

"Secret's out darlin'," Logan said. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," I said quietly.

"Just know whatever you do, I'm behind ya a hundred percent, okay?"

"I know," I said, looking up into his face. I did know.

"I been missin' you, ya know" Logan said, looking down at me, his eyes dark and his voice low. A little shiver crept over me and I almost cracked a smile.

"Logan it's only been five days since we..."

"Jeannie, I always want you," he said in a husky tone, and I knew he meant it.

I realized that I had subconsciously put my hand over my belly. Part of me wanted to pull him into a room, make love to him in the daylight, run to the top of the staircase and tell the world I loved him. But I had already made a big enough mess. From now on, I was going to to do this the right way.

The right way.

I pulled back.

"I have to tell Scott," I said, and for the first time, saying the words out loud, I felt small traces of guilt lace through my words. "It's been too long. He needs to know."

Logan nodded, "You gonna be all right alone?"

I sighed deeply. "No, but... it's something I have to do by myself."

He bowed his head. "I understand...darlin' if you ever need me..."

He paused and raised one eyebrow in a devilish look, "For anything..."

"You've really done enough for now Logan, thanks," I said, but then I found myself smiling. I felt like nothing would ever be the same again, and that maybe, just maybe, I was all right with that.

* * *

Scott was on a mission and wouldn't be back until Wednesday. That gave me three days to come to the solid and frustrating conclusion that there is no good way to write a break up letter to your husband. No good way to explain just how dead a marriage it was.

I know, I know, I should've done it in person but I didn't have the courage.

And try as I might, draft after draft got thrown in the trash.

It wasn't so much that I was overcome by emotion-honestly, it had been numb between us for so long and he was so obviously was interested in Emma that this came as more of a relief to me than anything else. I was so tired of living the lie. The problem was trying to sort out so many years of a relationship into a few choice words.

Dear Scott, I feel things between us have changed- too clichŽ.

Dearest Scott, our time has come to a close --- horrible.

There was just no polite way to say Dear Scott, I've been having wild hot sex in the woods with Wolverine for the past month, and what do you know, I got knocked up. Maybe you should have paid less attention to keeping the blackbird waxed and more attention to our marriage, love, Jean.

Finally around midnight I decided to take a break. I got up, stretching my arms behind my back, and walked out into the hallway to stretch my legs. I found myself flirting with the idea of seeing what Logan was up to, and then decided against it.

My mind was apparently not in complete control of my body, though, as I found myself pacing outside his door.

"You're wearing the carpet out Jeannie," I heard a muffled voice say from inside. "Just come in."

I stopped instantly, blushing, and then turned the doorknob.

He was laying there on the bed, propped up against two pillows reading Time magazine of all things, reclined and relaxed looking gorgeously rough as usual. I came over and sat down next to him. He set the magazine down and grinned at me.

"Couldn't help yerself, huh?"

I ignored his smile.

"I'm having trouble writing Scott's, uh, dear John letter," I confessed.

"Really?" He asked, running a finger down the edge of my face and grinning. "Let me do it then. Dear Cyke, you married the hottest woman on the planet, and by some stroke of luck I got my hands on her. I plan on keeping her. Forever. Please, feel free to leave and never come back. Love, yer pal, Logan"

I laughed and shook my head at him, "You're such an ass, why do I like you so much?"

"I dunno," he rumbled. "I ask myself that every day. Maybe it's the claws?"

Tugging on a lock of my hair, he pulled me in and kissed me. It felt so good, like taking a long, cool drink of water in the desert. I realized that this was Logan happy, and it wasn't something I was used to seeing. Hell, I don't think it was something any of us had ever seen before.

He grinned wolfishly and then with one quick move laid me out on the bed underneath him.

"Ladies love the claws."

"Mmm mmm," I said, unable to answer under his insistent mouth and tongue.

"Wait a minute," I finally managed to gasp as his hand crept up my thigh. He stopped, and I was almost sorry I said anything.

"Yeah?" He said with an amused look, propping his head up on his hand and looking at me with a sparkle in his eye.

"I want to try something," I said, maintaining eye contact.

His smile grew wider and he quirked an eyebrow at me. "Okay Jeannie, but I'll tell ya, whatever it is you want to try I've probably tried it before."

"I guarantee you haven't," I said, and I put my hand to his face.

We initiated the psy-link right away-sometimes it takes time, but this seemed like it was ready, and it instantly leapt across. The first thing I registered was sudden surprise and strong apprehension on his part.

Jeannie? A great wave of fear, and the unpleasant feeling of someone trying to push me out of his head.

Shhh, shhh. Calm down Logan, shhh, I said, as if I were trying to calm a wild beast. Trust me. Relax and trust me.

Coulda warned me, I heard him grumble.

That's no fun, I teased. I ran my fingers along his forearm, against his knuckles. You have your talents, I have mine.

The resistance and uneasiness subsided somewhat. I knew I would have to give him time to get used to this, let him realize that he was okay, his mind was still his own, that this was different than the psychic prying he hated.

I let my mind relax, open, let him wander cautiously inside.

I can hear you Jeannie, he thought, and I detected a hint of wonderment in his tone. And I can feel you... I can... feel you, feel you feeling me...

It's nice, isn't it? I asked, smiling. It was something I'd wanted to do with him for a long time, but our short, desperate encounters in the woods just hadn't made it possible. Now I was ready, ready to show him a whole new world. He'd shown me what he was capable of and now, now it was my turn to show what I could give.

Being inside his mind was fascinating. Parts were dark and cold. Parts were very animalistic, simply run by hunger, desire, instinct. Under it all I felt a great current of love, and even stronger of loyalty. Again, I realized with certainty that he would love me faithfully until the end. Regardless of Scott, or anyone else. Even if he could never have me, he would love me. Dead, alive, to the ends of the earth it didn't matter. I was there like a scar, like an imprint. It bewildered and flattered me.

I want you to take off your clothes, he thought at me, and I could tell his thoughts had gathered into a current, his arousal slowly focusing and directing itself on me. It almost made me blush, the way his attention wrapped me up, currents sucking softly at my mind.

Slowly, I slid out of my skirt. I pulled my blouse over my head and I undid my bra. I was lying next to him in just my panties, thin little lace things, and I saw his pupils dilate, saw an image of myself in his head, sprawled out, loose red curls spread over the bed, pale breasts with pale pink nipples and full, aroused lips.

It made me gasp, the raw lust and admiration that I felt pour across the link.

You really think I'm perfect, I said incredulously. You really think I'm gorgeous, don't you?

Of course I do darlin', you are, he thought, and even better in the daylight. Images tumbled towards me, ones he'd imagined, pieces of things we'd done, and I knew that he'd wanted this for a long time-wanted this the most. To take his time with me, to leisurely lay claim on me, see me in the light. And I felt the heat in him, the desire. I was already wet and it doubled the sensation. He leaned into kiss me and I felt myself and him, both of us.

Wow, he thought. I felt a tickling in my mind as he cautiously began to poke around. I really turn you on that much? He queried, and then answered his own question. Yeah, you like it when I growl? He started laughing and I blushed. He growled at me, low and slow, calculated to set me off, and then he began to kiss my neck. He suddenly stopped, and I felt him gently probing around my mind again.

"Wow...An' you really get off that much just from sucking my-"

"Logan!" I cried, embarrassed. "It's a psylink, you don't have to say it out loud."

"Mmm," he rumbled in his chest, grinning mischeviously and putting his hands up to cup my breasts, thumb the nipples. The sensation was so powerful I nearly swooned. I reached town to rub my palm against the throbbing erection in his jeans and I felt a spike of pleasure shoot through me at the touch.

"All I'm sayin' darlin', is you can do that any time you like. You like it that much, it's yours! Don't even ask, just go for it," He said, his grin moving ear to ear, exposing his sharp canines.

"Mornin'. Evening. In the danger room...in the kitchen..."

"Shut up and take those damn clothes off," I said, using a TK burst to shove him off me.

Grinning, he pulled off his pants and boxers, and there he was, gloriously naked, in front of me. I took a minute to just admire him, and I could tell he was doing the same to me. The man was built, solid muscle. It was very different from Scott, who was long and lean. Logan was compact, pure strength, his muscles so cut they looked chisled, his heavy shoulders, his forearms and thighs. His body really did look dangerous, like a weapon, and I found some sense of raw primal pleasure in it that I didn't even know I possessed, knowing that a man like this wanted me so badly.

This was the first time we'd really been able to have foreplay, just enjoy each other, because every encounter was always so desperate, and marked by the hours of darkness. I saw his eyes devouring my body, the lust and appreciation showing so nakedly on his face that it made me blush. No one had ever made me feel as sexy as one look from Logan did.

Lying back on the bed, I arched my back and spread my legs, inviting him in. It was strange but good to feel the soft bed under my back, I'd gotten so used to the cold earth pressing against me as we made love.

His cock was already dripping with precum as he took it in his hand. Seeing it in the light, it looked even bigger, and I thanked god that I was so wet already. I hated to say it, but there was something very satisfying at a base level about seeing such a nice-

Like what you see, huh? He asked playfully, eyes twinkling boastfully. I blushed again and he leaned down to kiss me, letting his mouth wander over to my ear, down my neck.

It's okay, he thought at me, you're not so bad yourself, Red.

He positioned myself over me, hooking a knee over his shoulder, and bent down to suck on a nipple, groaning,

"My beautiful Jeannie... sweetheart, you're gonna be the death of me..."

In response, I arched my hips up and teased the tip of his cock, sliding my inner lips against it. I could feel his body jump in response, as the pleasure went both ways, shocking me, and then I felt the pressure as he pushed his way in.

Oh fuck... oh this is incredible... he thought across the psylink, or at least I think it was him, it might have been me, but I could feel him entering me, feel myself tight and hot around him, feel his pulse racing and the instinct he had so strongly to plant his seed deep inside of me.

You're so tight Jeannie, we're... we fit perfectly.

It was good... then he started moving, and it was great. Stars exploded behind my eyes. It was him and me and us and I was around, inside, skin on skin. We both moaned at once, and then looked at each other in shock and surprise. I'd never felt anything this good before in my life. Everything was doubled, but it was two different sensations. He started a rhythm, slow and deep, pulling his cock nearly all the way out and burying it as deep as it would go inside me. Desperate, I grabbed the headboard and the bed slammed against the wall with every stroke. I prayed no one would come to investigate but soon any thought but Logan was wiped from my mind.

This is too much Jeannie, I'm gonna come...he thought at me, but right as he thought it I climaxed and he said, "Oh God, oh God,"

As my body was enveloped in a white hot heat I was vaguely aware of him pumping furiously and then suddenly he was coming and I could feel it, he could feel it, feel both of us, and all my mental walls dissolved at once and we were suddenly together, one mind, a being made out of light, radiating with pleasure.

It must've only lasted seconds, but it felt like hours. Thinking back on it, it felt like a dream. It might've been a dream. It was like I was hovering, far above the earth, back in Phoenix form, and I could feel Logan there too, only...it was like he was an extension of me, we were two sides of one being, and I could feel the power, the deep and steady current of power run through us both.

It was like nothing I'd ever felt or seen before.

I think I might have blacked out because I felt myself drifting back so slowly, like falling from space to earth.

I opened my eyes and he was there, staring into mine.

"I've never felt anything like that before," he said, his voice reverant, eyes wide. I don't think I'd ever seen Logan in awe before, but this was it, or as close as he came to it.

"Me either," I replied.

"Is that what it's like with Scott?" He whispered, and I could hear the jealousy creep into his voice.

"No," I said, trying to clear my head, which was still buzzing with pleasure. "No, not at all. That was... that was...I wasn't expecting that."

He was still inside me, and his eyes locked onto mine he slowly pulled out. I panted as I felt him pull out of me, and he did it inch by inch. Finally he leaned in to kiss me.

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you Jeannie," he murmured, "But I'm never goin' to be stupid enough to take you for granted. Believe me. You have me until the day I die."

I looked at him, smiling, because I knew it was the truth.


* * *

TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER...

I was making-or rather, attempting to make potato salad for the annual X-Men picnic that Xavier hosted every year. The annual picnic. The one day a year when we weren't running missions, saving lives, changing humanity's perception of mutants.

I had James on one hip and Rosie in a snugli against my chest. James looked mildly interested in the potato chopping whereas Rose had been steadily bawling in my ear for the last five minutes.

"Here darlin', hand her off to me," Logan said. He was sitting at the table shucking corn.

I paused long enough to unstrap myself and to hand the tiny, angrily bawling redhead to Logan. When he sat her on his lap she stopped crying almost instantly.

I shook my head, "What a daddy's girl."

"Hey," Logan said smugly, "Kid's got good taste."

I laughed and added in chopped celery.

Logan bounced Rosie on his knee as she gazed into his face, drooling and chewing on her fingers.

"Hmm...want me to tell you the story of me and your mommy?" he asked.

"Logan," I said, in a slight warning tone.

"Well, it goes like this. She cornered me in the woods and wouldn't take no for an answer-"

"LOGAN! Stop it! This isn't a children's story."

"Tell me about it," he said, wiggling his eyebrows and Rosie started laughing.

Logan leaned forward and tickled the toddler with his sideburns. "Never make your mommy mad kid, she's got a temper, just like her baby," Rosie giggled again, and then unceremoniously spit up on his shirt.

Logan looked down at the wet mess of milk and half digested cheerios dripping down his sleeve and shrugged.

"Well, just milk. At least she didn't just have a steak dinner. Then I'd be in trouble."

I shook my head as I finished scraping out the jar of mayonnaise, mixed it in and turned to face Logan.

"I have to say, I never thought you'd..."

I paused. Logan looked up at me expectantly, with a little gleam in his eye.

"Yes darlin'?"

"I never thought you'd be good with kids! I mean, it was bad enough when I found out I was pregnant. When I found out it was twins...well, I didn't know how you were going to survive it."

He shrugged, "Jeannie, when will you learn, I'm full a' surprises."

"I know," I said, and laughed. "Trust me, I of all people should know."

"In fact," Logan continued, getting up and settling Rosie down in the high chair, "I like having kids so much..." he came up behind me nuzzled my neck "I think we should go make some more."

"Yeah?" I asked turning to face him and wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Yeah." He said, kissing me deeply. I felt a flood of arousal wash through me. His voice was low in my ear. "How 'bout right now."

"Logan," I said, grinning naughtily, "Not in front of the kids, you'll scar them for-"

"I HATE to interrupt," a voice chimed in. We both turned to see Emma standing at the door.

"Jean, I need your help on the pie, please? This whole...ugh.. domestic thing. It's dreadfully plebian. I thought you'd probably know all about it."

"Sure Emma," I said, disengaging from my embrace. Wolverine looked slightly pissed and went back to shucking the corn, a little too violently.

We walked outside together and towards the other kitchen.

"So, how's it feel anyway darling ... to be the one who tamed the famous Wolverine?" Emma asked, sending me a sly sideways smile.

"I don't know Emma," I replied, "How does it feel being married to my husband?"

We stared at each other for a moment and then started laughing. It was amazing how quickly it was water under the bridge. In fact, I'd been a bridesmaid at the wedding. I saw the way they were together, the way Scott was smiling again, and I was happy for them because I had everything I ever wanted.

It may not have happened the way I-or anybody else-could've ever planned, but finally, things seemed right, for the first time in ...well... ever.

"Besides," I said, allowing myself a small smile, "I'm not sure I've really tamed him, per se."

"Yes. Trust me darling, the whole mansion knows, those walls aren't really as soundproof as one might think," Emma said, holding her chin up high. I grinned and blushed, and the two of us walked across the field towards what was sure to be the world's worst pie. I almost laughed at the thought of Scott choking it down and giving Emma the thumbs up.

"Let's go show those X-boys who's the boss when it comes to baking skills. Two telepaths, we ought to be able to make this work," I said to Emma, and she deigned to give me a little sigh and a roll of her eyes.

"Hurry back Jeannie, or I'm givin' Jimmy a sip of my beer," I heard Logan call from the open kitchen door.

Knowing you, I'm surprised I haven't seen him crawling around chomping on a stoogie already, I shot back.

"What that's Jean?" Emma asked.

"Nothing, nothing," I responded quickly.

And I've never been happier in my life.