To Catch a Fox

Authors Note/Disclaimer:
I do not own the X Men or the fictional universe they live in. This is a work of fan fiction. I’m just borrowing them for my own amusement and yours. I am making no money from this.

Please tell me what you think by posting a review or emailing me at ginevrasn@yahoo.com. Put AFF in the subject line if you do so, so I don’t delete it by mistake. I do not have a beta to proof for me, so don’t be shy.

Warnings: More sex. A naughty word or two.

Chapter Seven: Consequences

Winter Moon’s mouth trailed teasing kisses across his collar bone. Then she bit him hard at the join of neck and shoulder. Logan grunted in reaction.

That was too much for him and there was no holding the beast back now. He shoved her down on the bed, pinning her with his weight as he pushed her thighs apart roughly. She squirmed beneath him and bit him again, this time on his chest. He growled as he thrust himself deep inside her. She grunted at the intrusion, then moaned as he began to move within her. Her nails clawed at his skin, urging him on, her body arching beneath him.

Her voice was low and husky as she cried out, her words incomprehensible to him. Between the words came low growls and gasps of pleasure. When her body tensed beneath him, her growls took on a desperate tone. They became a loud moan when she climaxed, her juices adding another layer of scent to the maddening mix.

His senses were overwhelmed. The softness of the furs beneath them, the silky warmth of her skin, the sharp nipping of her teeth, the burn of her fingernails across his skin and most of all the feel of her around him spurred him on. He heard himself growling as he fell into his final rhythm, pounding with bruising force into her small body. He felt her clenching around him as she climaxed again. She bit him again, giving a muffled growl. His mind went blank and his hips jerked involuntarily as he snarled his release.

When he could think again he was still hard within her and she was moving against him languidly. Her lips trailed along the curve of his neck and her hands stroked slowly along his back and ribs. Her touch was less urgent than before but just as earnest. He shifted, lifting some of his weight off of her and began to stroke again, this time at a slower pace.

“Logan…” She whispered, her breath warm against his skin. He leaned down to kiss her, swallowing her growl as she shuddered against him. He nipped at her neck carefully and sucked at her earlobe as he continued his steady pace until she was whimpering with need.

“Want more?” He spoke low into her ear.

“Yes…Please…” She seemed to struggle with the words, her words thickly accented and heavy with passion.

He reared back to kneel between her legs, pulling them over his shoulders. He began to drive hard and fast into her tiny body, his weight bearing down on her with each stroke. He was grunting with effort now, sweat breaking out across his back. She moaned and gasped beneath him and clutched at the furs. She came again with a sharp cry.

“Yes…” He hissed as he felt his pleasure peaking. Logan gave several more savage thrusts. He came with a shout this time, feeling himself jerk within her. He rested panting above her until her quiet protests began to filter through the fog.

He rocked back on his heels, withdrawing from her. He looked down at her concerned.

“You O.K. there darlin’?”

“I am fine, Logan.” She moved slowly, rolling to her side as she panted. “You are quite the beast.” She trailed a lazy hand across his thigh.

“Hmph. Yer quite the little animal yerself.” He lay down beside her, propping himself on one elbow to study her. The little smile was still there and though partially sated, her arousal was still evident in her scent. There was a faint tang of blood in the air and he scowled.

“You sure I didn’t hurt ya?”

“Not enough to matter.” She chuckled. “We will be more careful next time.” Her fingers continued to trail slow circles across his thigh. He caught them in his hand and raised them to his lips.

“All them years ago…Did ya want me then? Or is it just the fox in yer blood?” Reynard’s wife had been a quiet little thing then. Her English had been scarce and her reactions hard to read. He’d been fascinated by her and only her obvious devotion to her mate and child had kept him from pursuing that interest.

“It is the fox that drove me to choose this year…But it is the woman that has made the choice.” She stroked his lips with her fingertips, seemingly lost in thought. “I had thought perhaps I was too old. This has happened only once since Winter Fox was born.”

“You ain’t aged a bit in the last fifteen years.” He kissed her fingertips as he watched her face. She chuckled. He exaggerated only slightly, he had to look closely to see the fine lines around her eyes.

“The firelight is kind…And if it were summer, you would see the silver in my hair.” She withdrew her fingers. “But you…You look just as you did then.”

“I’m a lot older than I look darlin’.” He reached out to touch one of the marks he’d left on her neck.

“This young man with the strange eyes.” She pulled his hand away from her neck, moving it to rest on her hip. “Is he a good man?”

“Depends on what ya mean by good.” Logan kneaded her flesh with his fingers as he thought. “He’s somebody I’d trust with my life.”

“Will he be kind to my daughter? I had expected she would choose the McAdam boy. They were always so close.”

“Big guy? Dark hair? Works with her?”

“Yes…His name is Sean. They played together as children. His Uncle was Reynard’s partner for many years.”

“She ain’t said…But, I got the impression he picked somebody else. They had a fight just before we left.”

“Ah…I see.” Her gaze dropped from his and she sighed. “But, you did not answer me. This young man…”

Logan paused before answering.

“He ain’t got a good track record with women…But, I don’t think he means any harm in it. Seen women that oughta know better throw themselves at him. And he don’t always run. Ain’t the marrying kind, if that’s what ya mean.”

“I do not think my daughter is ‘the marrying kind’ herself.” She looked up at him thoughtfully.

“He’ll be good to her while we’re here. But, come spring, we’ll be leaving. Don’t expect him ta come back. This ain’t his kind of place and he’s got a girl waitin’ back home.”

She sighed and reached for him, her fingers trailing through the thick hair on his chest. He could smell her heat rising again.

“Yer not going to ask me if I’m coming back?”

“No.” Then she silenced him with a kiss…


When Remy awoke several hours later, the girl was still sleeping soundly. She didn’t stir when he rose and dressed quietly. Now that the sun had risen further, the light coming through the small window was stronger and he could see the room’s contents. A large trunk sat beneath the window and one wall was lined with crude wooden shelves. The shelves were filled with books and an assortment of small objects. His fingers itched with the temptation to poke around further, but instead he silently slipped into the hallway.

It didn’t take him long to find the crude little bathroom. As he made do with the limited facilities, he tried to remind himself that it could be worse. They might have been forced to go out into the cold to use something even more primitive. He shuddered at the thought.

Scott and Jean were curled up together under a blanket in front of the stove when he emerged, blinking at the relatively bright light in the main room. He ran a hand self consciously through his hair, wondering what he must look like.

“Good afternoon there, sunshine.” Jean gave him a little smirk. Scott shifted a little under the blanket and cleared his throat.

“Am I interrupting someting?” He raised an eyebrow at them and turned to the little kitchen, looking for a bowl. He could smell the pot of soup or stew on the back of the stove and his stomach was rumbling now.

“Not anymore.” Jean chuckled. “How’s Kit?”

“Sleeping.” He shrugged as he served himself a bowl. There was also a pot of strong coffee brewing and he poured himself some of that too. Then he sat at the rough wooden table.

“You look like hell.” Scott observed.

“Feel like someting de fox drug in…” Remy grimaced at the bitter taste of the coffee. “Who make dis? Logan?”

“This morning, before he left.” Jean rose, letting the blanket fall. She wore a too-big flannel shirt over her long johns. One tail of the shirt was caught in her waistband. She tugged it loose impatiently. Remy smirked at her, but didn’t comment as she reached for a coffee cup.

“Where is Logan?”

“He went out…Didn’t say when he’d be back. Just said he couldn’t be around Kit.” Scott pulled the blanket tighter around himself and stood up, walking across the room to peer into the hallway.

“Told you, she asleep, mon ami. Remy done wore her out.” The stew was almost as strong as the coffee; something at the bottom of the pot must have burned.

“Looking at you, I’m not sure who wore who out.” Scott snorted. Then he turned serious as he moved to sit across the table from Remy. “Have you thought this out, Remy? Really thought this out?”

“Thought what out?” Scott’s concern was grating on his senses. Kit’s emotional storm had left him feeling battered and oversensitive. He glanced at Jean as she took a seat next to him and took a cautious sip of her coffee. She wrinkled her nose at the taste and set it down.

“Well…” Jean wrapped her hands around the mug and looked at him with a serious expression. “To be blunt…If Kit’s in ‘heat’ as Logan puts it and you’re her ‘mate’…That has certain…consequences.”

Remy blinked at her then looked down at his half-empty bowl of stew. He silently took another bite of the stuff, ignoring the slightly scorched flavor.

{It a bit late for de old “birds and bees” talk.}

“Remy…” Scott leaned over the table and tapped the table to get his attention. “Did you…?”

“Dere ain’t been much time for thinkin’. Merde. It been hard to tink around her at all. She…she in my head.”

“So you didn’t?” Scott continued to push.

“Non.”

“This isn’t one of your games, Remy!” Scott slammed his fist on the table, rattling the crockery.

“You meddling again. Dis none of your business.” Remy fixed his eyes on a spot in front of his bowl.

“Remy…” Jean’s voice was softer, but it echoed Scott’s disapproval.

“Dis her game. Remy playin’ by her rules. Don’ think he could quit if he wanted to.”

“Are you serious?” Scott sat back in his chair and stared at the Cajun.

“Belle…She don’ even want to see me…Rogue…She love me…But dis…Dis ting she can’t do. Maybe Remy don’ talk about it, cause it hurt her too much to say, hmm?”

“Remy?” Jean touched his arm, a look of concern on her face.

“In all dis big world, dere no one… NO ONE… Remy can point to and say dat my blood.” He glanced at them both and frowned. “Anyway, ‘cording to Rogue, I a free man.”

“We all know she doesn’t mean that.” Jean said.

“Den she damn well shouldn’t say it!” Remy snapped at her. “Now dat’s one game dis Cajun’s tired of playing.”

“So…You’re actually O.K. with this…thing…with Kit?” Scott looked at him incredulously.

“Non. But it don’ matter none. Won’ be O.K. until we out of this freezin’ hell. But, she scared. She need Remy…She don’ need some half-wild stranger out dere.” He waved a hand toward the door.

“I de closest ting to a friend she got, right now. Remy not de bad one here. Dat one dat tol’ her he gon’ come den back out…He de bad one.” He dropped his spoon into his bowl and shoved it away in disgust.

“Dis taste like shit. Gon’ make sometin’ better ‘fore she wakes up.”


By the time the girl woke, Scott had unloaded the sled and stored its contents in the store room. Jean had climbed up into the loft and declared it the master bedroom, creating a thick pallet of bedding from the extra blankets and furs found in one of the unused rooms.

Remy had been busy disposing of the remains of Logan’s cooking efforts. Now the cabin smelled of something warm and spicy instead of burnt meat. He’d even managed to cook a batch of biscuits in an ancient Dutch oven.

Scott had also found a couple of oil lamps and fuel in the back and as the afternoon sunlight began to wane, he lit them. The warm glow softened the cabin’s rough edges and gave the place a cozy feel. Scott was startled when he turned and found the girl blinking her slitted eyes at the changed room. She was dressed again in her white furs and leather and with her pale hair she almost seemed a ghost.

“So you’re finally awake?”

She didn’t answer him, and instead looked around curiously until she spotted Remy. He was busy setting the table. Remy gave her a pensive look. Her expression was calm, but behind it was a powerful tangle of emotions warring with each other.

“Startin’ to think you gon’ sleep all day.” He gave her a little smile. “You jus’ in time for dinner.”

“It smells wonderful Remy.” Jean called as she climbed down from the loft. Kit’s expression hardened as her eyes flicked to the other woman. Jean noticed her expression and gave her a friendly smile. “You must be hungry…And Remy’s cooking is a real treat.”

“Be careful of those lamps…They’re old. I don’t use them.” Kit finally spoke quietly, crossing the room to take a seat at the table. Remy relaxed just a little and began to dish out the food, starting with the plate in front of Kit.

“We’ll put them out before we go to sleep.” Scott nodded at her as he sat down across from her. Jean took a seat beside him. Remy set a platter of biscuits in the center of the table and sat down next to Kit.

“It’s almost dark. When do you think Logan will be back?” Jean grabbed a biscuit, glancing at Scott.

“I don’t know. He didn’t say how long he’d be gone.” Scott frowned as gathered a bite of rice and beans on his fork.

“He’s with my mother.” Kit spoke quietly as she pushed her food around on her plate. “He won’t be back until…Well it’ll be a few days.”

“Your mother?” Jean put her biscuit down.

Kit dropped her fork and reached for the mug of tea in front of her and took a large swallow. Remy could feel her struggling for control over the fox’s instincts. The fox was reacting to Jean as a rival and each time the woman spoke he could feel its anger.

“She mark him…He gone to her.” Remy caught Jean’s eye, willing her to be silent.

“Christ.” Scott scowled and began to dig at his food with more violence than was necessary. “Figures.” Jean put a hand on his arm and he shot her a glance.

“Eat, cher. It don’ bite you. At least not much.” Remy touched the girl’s arm and she jumped a little. But, she began to actually eat the food rather than push it around. He could feel something building inside the girl…Something he couldn’t quite name.

“Are you going out again tonight?” Scott looked across the table at Kit. She looked at the door and back to him.

“Yes.” Ah…Remy began to understand. She needed to get outside. Get away from Scot and Jean. Run, defend her territory, maybe even hunt. And soon.

“Will you see your mother or Logan?” Scott continued in the same vein.

“I hope not.” Kit pushed her plate away. “I need to go.”

She rose from the table, nearly toppling her mug. Remy caught it before it could spill. In an instant she was at the door, tugging it open, cold wind blowing flakes of snow through the opening.

“Kit! Wait! I didn’t mean…” Scott started to follow her, but the door was already shut. “Dammit!” He sat down heavily. “Anybody else want to pull a disappearing act?”

“You too uptight, she be back soon enough.” Remy continued to eat, relaxing now that the girl was out of the range of his sensitivity.

“Pretty damned sure of yourself aren’t you?” Scott reached for his fork again.

“Scott…This cabin is small enough as it is, without all this bickering.” Jean frowned. “I, for one, prefer to think of this as a vacation and I intend to enjoy it.”

“Sound good to me.” Remy raised his mug in a toast. “Look like dis gonna be quite de experience.”

“Experience…Right.” Scott gave one last scowl, but was silent for the rest of the meal. Afterwards Remy pulled out a deck of cards and a bottle of rum he’d found in one of the cupboards.

“We play a few hands to pass de time.” After a few hands and a few drinks, Scott began to loosen up. His questions became a little more personal.

“So…What happened this morning?” Scott peered over his hand at Remy. Jean rolled her eyes.

“She was…very happy…to see me.” Remy smirked and poured himself another shot.

“How happy?” Scott’s face was flushed and Remy was a little amused to see their fearless leader half-drunk. Good thing they weren’t betting, or Scott wouldn’t have anything left but the clothes on his back.

“She ‘bout tear my clothes off right dere.” Remy pointed at the center of the room. “In front of God and Logan. And her emotion so loud, Remy almost let her.”

“Well, that would have been something to wake up to.” Jean giggled and her hand wavered, almost flashing her cards to the others. “Oops.” Her glass rose in the air an inch or two and wobbled before falling back to the table.

“Maybe it time to put dis away.” Remy capped the rum and stood to put it back in its cupboard. “Don’ want you to fall off de ladder or someting.”

He chuckled to himself and tossed his cards on the table face up.

“Look like I win dis one. Gon’ go to bed ‘fore my luck turn.” He swallowed his last shot with a grimace.

“Go on, climb up and I put out de lights.” He waited patiently as they climbed up the steps. He chuckled again as Scott playfully slapped Jean's rear while she climbed the ladder. Then he carefully extinguished the oil lamps and headed for the bedroom.