Heaven X

Title: Heaven X.

Author: Mad Andy

Rating: NC17 (Although it may actually be R; hey, I'm English, I blush just THINKING about writing this sort of stuff down.)

Archive: DDFH. Anyone else, please ask first. Although I doubt anyone else would want it!

Disclaimer: The X-Men do not belong to me. No copyright infringement is intended; so please don't sue me. Suing people with no money is a fruitless exercise anyway, quite frankly.

Feedback: Constructive only, please. If you hate it, or the idea of it, please don't read it.

E-Mail: andreaslaymaker@hotmail.com

Summary: Lnighnight of the tour, and Logan makes his move on the support band's bassist…..

Summary #2: AU. No mutations.

Author's Note: This was originally a Def Leppard fic. Taryn suggested that with a little jiggering around it could be converted to X-men in general, and Logan/Marie in particular; then Karen suggested other fics could be written concerning the other band members…and WHAM! The bunny had a hold of my butt. Great. Thanks, ladies. Although they have both been wonderful beta's for it - correcting my inherent English-isms - so I guess that pays back some of the debt!

Mind you, ripping apart one fic to make another has been an interesting challenge, to say the least…

Those of you wishing to view the original can view it in the relevant folder on this site. And if you like it, how's about leaving a little review?

The lyrics at the end are a song called 'Have You Ever Needed Someone So Bad', by Def Leppard. I left it in. It still fits.

The headlining band are:

James Logan - Lead Singer/Rhythm Guitar

Scott Summers - Lead Guitar

Bobby Drake - Lead Guitar

Remy LeBeau - Bass

Henry McCoy - Drums

The other band mentioned are an all-girl rock band called Heaven, who are:

Jean Grey: lead singer, rhythm guitar.

Jubilation Lee: Lead guitar

Ororo Munroe - Lead Guitar

Katherine Pryde: Drums

Marie D'Ancanto: Bass

On with the show!

Last night of the tour. A night to be looked forward to and dreaded, in equal measures; the end of 'it's Tuesday, this must be Houston, yeah?', end of a gruelling schedule, sound checks, hotels, security, crazy fans…but also the end of a rollercoaster ride, end of the excitement, end of the bond with roadies, tour staff…support band.

Mostly, everyone remained friends; but there was something very special about the bonds forged within the white-hot rush that was a major tour. It was never the same afterwards.

Take this tour, mused Marie to herself as the taxi sped back to the hotel. They'd all been so excited when their manager had called them in for a meeting in the bar of the ratty hotel they were using as a for for the final leg of their local mini-tour.

"What is it this time?" growled their drummer as they all stumbled into the bar, decidedly frazzled after last night's gig. Sure, it had gone well…but they'd only got to bed in the early hours of the morning.

"It's seven in the morning, Warren," complained Jean, flinging herself into a wing chair and folding her long legs, "I've had four hours sleep an' I'm grumpy."

"Easy, ladies," grinned Warren, all smiles despite the grouchy reception he'd received, "I just thought you'd like to know we've got your first Continental US tour."

That got their attention. Suddenly he found himself the absolute centre of their combined stares.

"You know the album's gone down well right across the States? Well, according to the demographics of the purchasers -"

"Get on with it!"

"- We looked around for a band who had roughly the same target audience, and who might be interested in taking you guys on as support."

"And?" All five ladies were leaning forward now, almost twitching in their desire to hear who had agreed to take them. Make or break.

"We found one."

"Argh!"

"You've heard of Weapon X, right?"

Warren sat back on the threadbare sofa with a smug grin on his face as 'his' girls danced around the bar shouting with excitement. He knew they'd be pleased; after all, the band had started up as an all-female Weapon X tribute band. After a year of just banging out someone else's tunes, they'd discovered within themselves the ability to write their own brand of catchy, irrepressible rock music; they'd never looked back.

"When do we go?"

"Fifteenth of next month."

"Shit!"

"Yup. The other band pulled out and the boys were desperate -"

Kitty, the drummer, bounded across the room and slapped a hand across his mouth.

"Shut up! Too much information! Don't want to know!"

"Yeah," laughed Jubilee delightedly, "all we care about is that it's *us* that's going!"

*

So, they'd gone. Packed up their gear and re-hired their techs, talked to their accountants, the record company, the management company, the X's management, and on one memorable occasion James Logan himself. They'd been fooling around in the studio, trying to work off some of the tension the upcoming tour was giving them. Much to their surprise, when they'd taken a break he'd just strolled in and sat down, grinning.

The girls had all read about how in a closed room his animal magnetism had been known to make strong women faint, and they'd all seen his promo material; the dark, brooding look, twinkle - or was that a feral glitter? - in his hypnotic hazel eyes, shift of muscles clearly seen beneath his tight jeans and merely suggested beneath the open neck of his shirt. A couple of them had even seen him from a distance at various events; what they hadn't realised was just how damned gorgeous he was up close.

After a couple of hour's chat, he'd got down to the real reason for his visit.

"Some of the girlfriends are pretty unhappy about having an all-girl band touring with us."

They'd all just stared at him for a moment.

"Unhappy…how?" asked Jubes, frowning uncertainly. Logan had shifted in his chair a little uncomfortably, looking like nothing so much as a schoolboy in the principal's office.

"Well…you know…on tour…temptation…and all that…"

Marie had snorted loudly then, making the others jump. Waving her coffee mug at him, she scowled and shook her head.

"Don't flatter yourself, sugar. You can assure them that we are totally not interested in fuckiou gou guys like bunnies at the drop of a hat. What do you think we are, groupies?"

Logans' eyes glittered for a second.

"Well, you used to be a tribute band," he grinned back.

Kitty pulled her hair over her face and groaned loudly.

"Oh, damn. Who told him that? Bastards/P> /P>

"Yeah, well, whatever. We're not now. So you can tell your 'ladies' that we neither need nor want their men, alright?"

He sat back, eyeing the irritable bassist with interest.

"Cool."

And that was that.

So they'd caught the plane, checked into the hotel…and begun their first major tour.

The first night had been terrifying. The thought of finally playing in front of that many people instead of a sweaty little club had produced some peculiar effects in their guitarist.

"Does 'Rock On' start in F or G?"

"Jesus Jubes, you wrote the bastard! Anyway, it's E!"

"We're doomed, you know," sighed Kitty to Jean, as Marie gave the distraught guitarist a hug.

It had gone well anyway.

Nobody really listens to the support, but the crowds had been appreciative, and the performances had become more slick and practised as the tour went on. Their manager was pleased. The record company was pleased. The boys were pleased.

The girls were exhausted.

Despite the shaky start, they had even become good friends with their headliners; always being careful to avoid even a hint of flirting when any of the girlfriends were present. Not that this was difficult; they had been getting plenty of masculine company all through the tour, some welcome, and some less so. Although collectively Heaven were accustomed to male attention some of what they'd received on this tour was beyond belief.

"What you got there, Marie?" asked Jubes curiously one morning, seeing the bassist's eyes widen as she opened a piece of morning fan mail.

For answer, she silently passed the envelope to her friend.

"He's taken a picture of his…oh, that's disgusting!"

"Look at the second one."

"Ugh!"

They'd had to wade through the odd flood of flowers (assisting a cursing and sneezing Kitty, who suffered dreadfully with hayfever), been sent various improbable items of supposedly sexy underwear, torture implements -

"How come I got this? I'm only the bassist!"

"It's those corsets you wear on stage."

"Can't be. Anyway, you wear jeans and that lacy damn thing, and you get all the ones from women…"

…and the photos. The one from the guy with the goats had, however, been passed straight to the police.

Life had settled into a routine, non none of them could figure out exactly how they felt as the last night approached.

"You must admit, it's been nice working with such a group of sexy guys," sighed Kitty from under the towel she'd draped over her face. They were attempting to wind down backstage after the penultimate show of the tour, and Kitty had adopted her usual post gig position - flat on her back on the floor under said towel.

"Yes, but even such men look a bit rough first thing in the morning," added Jean thoughtfully, taking another pull on her beer.

"Even their legendary stamina begins to flag after the fifth groupie," mused Ororo quietly, if a little spitefully; "it takes its toll on them all."

"Especially Logan after a long bus ride. Poor bastard can't sleep on a bus, apparently," offered Marie from her position on the sofa.

"You know he's got a hard-on for you, don't you?" grinned Jubilee as she stepped across the prone drummer.

"The fuck he does."

"No, really. Haven't you seen him watching you from backstage, and during soundchecks?"

"No, I haven't. You're trying to piss me off. Anyway, what about those late night guitar sessions with Scott?"

"Stop trying to change the subject," chided Jubes mildly, passing the bassist another beer, "because you know it's true. He'd just love to get into your pants."

Marie regarded her friend solemnly for a moment, then sighed and passed a hand over her eyes. "Whatever. Last night tomorrow, then we can all go home and crash out for a while…thank God."

"You said it, sister!"

*

Last nights were always special, Remy told them philosophically as they jogged past him that afternoon swearing loudly on their way to an impromptu soundcheck, because things could never be quite the same again

"No shit" growled Jean, who was unhappy that they were being badly rushed in order to make room for a few changes to be put in place for the headliners.

To their surprise, after a somewhat strained run through of a couple of tracks, a smiling Logan and Scott accosted them on their way back to the dressing rooms. Since tou tour had gone so well, they said, and the crowds seemed to enjoy the show put on by the ladies, not to mention the fact that the fans always loved something a bit unusual…

"Get on with it," snapped Jean, still peeved that they'd been rushed.

Would they like to do a number on stage with them in the encore?

Both men looked a little smug as they received their third degree hugs from the delighted ladies, amidst whoops of joy.

"What track?"

"Rock Me. It's off the new album. You OK with that?"

"I think we can cope." snorted Ororo.

"Cool," grinned Scott.

Logan reached out and gently ran a finger along Marie's jaw, smiling craftily.

"See you later, yeah?"

"OK."

The band rushed off, and as soon as they hit the relative safety of the dressing room they all turned and stared at the blushing bassist.

"What?"

"Toldya."

*

It had been a humdinger of a show. The girls had prowled the dressing rooms like tigers as they waited for the call; it it came, they practically fell over themselves in the rush to get to the stage. Much nervous catcalling was made along the way -

"Bet Logan wants you with him."

"Fuck off and stick to fantasising."

"Ha! Fifty bucks says I play with Scott."

"See?! You lying bitch, you said you weren't interested!"

"Bobby for me!"

"Cradlesnatcher!"

"Shut up - "

"- we're here…"

And on to the stage, blinking in the lights and waving at the crowd, grinning at each other and revelling in the waves of sound breaking over them.

They fanned out around the band as Logan stroked up the crowd…and then they were off. It was fantastic, they all agreed; both bands worked well together, dancing and playing, laughing and giving the fans an encore to remember. Bobby and Ororo made a magnificent pair, her long white hair complimenting his sharply spiky blonde locks. Jean and Scott were really getting some tension going; the crowd loved it. Remy had Jubilee on his shoulders, and Hank had the petite Kitty on his lap; it didn't seem to be affecting their playing.

Sure enough - she wasn't sure how, but was fairly sure the members of both bands managed to engineer it - Marie managed to end up playing and singing, in the main, with Logan.

At first, she'd felt a little awkward; after all, here was a man she'd had posters of on her wall as a teenager, and now she was on stage flirting with him whilst being roared on by ten thousand people. Whatthehell, she thought after the first three bars, go with it.

When the song wound up, Logan stared deep into her eyes and growled the very last line of the track:

"Do ya wanna rock me?"

She couldn't help herself. To the howling from the packed auditorium, she swung her bass around behind her, put her hands on her hips, lifted her head…. and stared straight back into his amused hazel eyes, arching an eyebrow.

He was going to fling out a challenge so very publicly? Then she would call his bluff, and to hell with the consequen

So she was completely unprepared for what happened next.

He leaned in closer to her, hypnotic eyes sparkling with both amusement and something deeper, darker - and kisser. Dr. Deeply. Passionately. Long.

The crowd went wild, screaming approval. The rest of both bands roared with laughter, applauding both Logan's unexpected move and Marie's spirited response. Logan broke the kiss, and leaned his forehead against hers, stroking the back of her head whilst exhaling slowly.

"Bastard," she hissed at him.

"Yup," he murmured.

They broke apart then, waving at the crowd, the girls hugging each other and the headliners before exiting, stage left.

*

None of the girls had really known what to say to their seething colleague as she practically ran down the hallways back to the dressing room. They'd never seen her so…unsettled.

She flung her jacket on and headed straight for the door again as soon as they got there. Alarmed, Jean grabbed her arm.

"Where you going?"

"Out. Away. I…I don't know, to be honest."

"But there's the party -"

This was true. The X boys were throwing one of their legendary after-tour parties, and as support band - and friends - all five girls were invited. They'd been looking forward to it for weeks.

"Damn the party. Tell 'em I'm sick. Tell 'em I died. Tell them whatever you like. But I'll see you in the morning, OK?"

Nodding silently, her friend and singer let her go.

*

Marie rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed loudly as the taxi pulled up outside the hotel. Thanking the driver, she got out, paid, and slowly wandered in to the lobby of the excruciatingly expensive hotel. The night staff nodded to her as she made her way to the elevators, but no one spoke to her. She was glad of that.

Riding up in the elevator she tried to figure out what had happened tonight. Why tonight? Why her? After all, they'd all been as good as gold all tour; rule one had been solemnly agreed as 'no trying to screw the headline band' and they'd all stuck to it. Besides which, all the boys seemed quite happy in their own relationships and there'd been no shortage of male attention for all the girls.

She thought back to the tall man dressed all in black who'd given her the red rose at a club in LA; the memory of their night together still made her shiver with pleasure. He'd been quite something, all right.

The elevator pinged gently to a stop, and she strolled slowly to her room. She opened the door, crossed the space grandly designated as a 'reception room' and flopped on the bed, still lost in the memories of her beautiful dark bedfellow. Pale skin…dark eyes…dark hair…knowledgeable hands…she sighed and brushed a hand across her nipples, feeling them peak with excitement. Perhaps that's what I need, she mused; a nice hot shower, and an early night with my vibrator. Gasp the confusion of the night away with memories and fantasies, orgasms and sweat.

As she undressed, dropping clothes untidily all over the room, she caught sight of the clock and her previous sour mood returned.

They'll be off stage by now. At the party, in all likelihood. Laughing about what a fool I am. Bastards. And then Logan will be carted off by that girlfriend of his, and she'll slide her hands over his chest and round his back, then down to that perfect, tight, biteable, kissable ass…

"Get over yourself," Marie snapped at her reflection.

Stepping into the shower a moment later, she felt all the tension begin to flow away from her as the hot water slid over her heated flesh. Tilting her head back, she gently stroked a nipple with one hand while the other strayed lower, tangling in her pubic hair before seeking out her own deep, moist warmth.

"The hell with it," she sighed as she began to stroke herself more firmly, rolling an erect nipple between thumb and forefinger, "Who's to know? Aaaaah, Logan…."

*

Emerging from the shower wrapped only in a short silk robe some thirty minutes later, Marie felt relaxed, clean, satiated and - more importantly - back in control. I'll just have a little nightcap, she thought fuzzily to herself, then climb into bed. It'll all be much, much clearer in the morning.

Something was nagging at her senses; something was different to when she'd got into her shower. Cold fingers of dread began to wrap themselves around her heart as she realised that although she'd left all the room lights on when she'd headed for the shower, the sitting room area was now in darkness. Also, she could hear a guitar - her guitar, the battered old acoustic she dragged round with her everywhere - being softly played somewhere in the pitch black.

I was alone in here. Now there's someone in my room. I don't know who it is.

No one knows I'm here.

Shit!

Suddenly very, very afraid she began to glance frantically around the bedroom for something - anything - she could use as a weapon. Nothing.

The soft music stopped. A tall figure stepped up to the doorway of her bedroom.

"Marie."

A flash of panic - a moment of utter terror - and then she recognised him.

"Jeeeeeeeeeeesus, Logan! Scare a girl half to death why don't you?" She sat down suddenly on the bed and put her head in her hands, faintly ashamed to see that she was trembling.

"I'm sorry. When you weren't there after the show I…I was surprised, I suppose."

He sounded tired. When Marie looked up at him, she was surprised to see that he was still in his stage outfit; normal procedure was to get showered and changed pretty much immediately they came off stage. That would explain how he got here so quickly, then.

"Why did you do it, Logan?" she asked softly, allowing herself to finally meet his gaze.

"Didn't you like it?"

"That's not what I said."

He smiled a little at that.

"Guess I haven't lost it, then."

"No, you haven't," she sighed, "but what about that girlfriend of yours? Surely she's got something to say about this."

"We split."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Last night."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Yeah darlin', I do."

"Crap."

"Said she was fed up with me starin' at you."

"Right."

"So I told her to take a hike."

"Sure you did, Logan."

Realising that they could verbally spar like this all night and never get any answers, she rose and moved to the door, stopping just out of arms reach and cocking her head to look up at him.

"Look, stop screwing around. You know I don't steal other girls' men. You know we've all been damned careful to stay away from you all during this tour. You know I had posters of you on my wall when I was a teenager. You know all that, Logan; so I'll ask you again. Why?"

He straightened his stance from where he'd been leaning on the doorframe, and closed the gap between them with one swift pace; he wasn't actually touching her, but he was so close that she could catch taintaintly masculine odours of sweat and effort. My god, thought Marie as she looked up at him, I'd forgotten he was so damn tall…

Taking her face gently in both hands, he used his thumbs to slowly massage her cheekbones, each pass of his skin over hers obsessive in its firmness, its gentle intensity. As he spoke, his hands began their slow exploration of her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone; each touch feather light but sure.

"Because I've been watching you. Because you're so strong…you don't take any shit from anyone, do you?"

"Not even you," she replied quietly, keeping her hands by her sides only with a tremendous effort of will. The feelings his touches were stirring within her were as powerful as anything she'd ever felt; the urge to simply let this wonderful, beautiful, terrifying man sweep her on to bed bed and do what he liked with her was almost irresistible. Only her innate stubbornness kept her still.

"Alright then," his hands stilled, holding her shoulders firmly as his hazel eyes bored into her grey, "in the end, because I wanted to. Good enough?"

She nearly laughed. The trembling was getting worse now, torn as she was between giving in to her body and giving him a piece of her mind.

Oh, hell. Why not.

"Good enough."

"Okay, then."

He grinned and straightened up with a suddenness that made her gasp. Before she could ask him what the hell was going on, he had grasped her waist, lifted her over his shoulder and started moving to the door. In answer to her yells asking what exactly the fuck he thought he was doing, he replied amiably:

"My room. Bigger bed."

She wouldn't quickly forget the short walk along the corridor, trip in the elevator then another section of corridor before entering another - his - room. A quick twist and throw had her bouncing on the bed, tousled and furious. Before she could draw breath to adequately yell at him, he had stripped off his shirt and was advancing on her, bare chested. The rigours of charging around a stage for two hours almost every night - for months - had taken their toll; his muscles were toned, defined, and faintly gleaming with sweat.

"Wah," was all she could manage, before he was kneeling on the bed before her.

"Alright?" he asked, solemnly.

"Oh, sugar," she replied breathily, before leaning forward to kiss him.

They spent some time exploring each other's bodies, feeling the responses to moves learned before but never experienced quite like this; they began to tentatively find a rhythm that suited them both, and allowed individual emotion to describe a complex pattern over the deeper, bass notes of raw desire. Her silk robe was swiftly slipped away from her body, slithering down to form a crumpled heap beside the bed; his jeans took a little more removing, but she took every opportunity to taste and touch each square inch of firmed, masculine flesh as it appeared beneath her ha

They paused, then; taking advantage of the sudden calm to study each other a little closer, a little deeper. Vulnerable and equal - at last - they waited to see where the next storm would take them.

Logan nuzzled his face into her neck, hiding in her hair; he almost moaned when she swung away and looked at him.

"Affection, Logan?" she asked quietly.

"You sound surprised," he murmured back, rolling over and pulling her firmly in to his chest.

"Hmm," she agreed, leaning over to nibble at an earlobe. He shivered.

"Not terribly 'rock star', affection," she snorted quietly. He sat up suddenly at that, knocking her flat on her back again. Leaning over her, one hand firmly on each side of her head, he glared down at her, eyes blazing.

"I'm not just a 'rock star'," he growled, slipping a knee between hers and guiding her thighs apart, "I'm a man…complicated…" lowering his hips over hers, "…vulnerable…" gathering both her wrists into one of his hands and holding them above her head, "…wanting…" dipping his head to nip at her neck, "…aching…"

He entered her with one smooth movement, groaning deeply as he felt her clench around him, gripping him tightly with her thighs and calling out his name. Holding still for a moment, he struggled to control his breathing sufficiently so the experience could last - for them both. They'd both waited long enough for this, and neither wanted to waste what might be their only opportunity.

"Ah! My god!" moaned Marie fiercely. She felt Logan smile against her neck.

"No, just me."

Laughing, she allowed the sensations to sweep her away.

Later, she would remember how well they seemed to fit each other, and how smoothly they had moved with each other's desires. Instead of the slight awkwardness of first time lovers they had found an almost spiritual togetherness; words were not necessary. Their bodies communicated directly, needing little assistance from the minds entwined with sensation and wallowing in bliss.

As soon as her body told him with a tightening shiver that her peak was approaching, he looped his arms firmly around her middle and swung them both upright. She tightened her legs sharply around his waist at the change in position; all her weight was transferred to him…and it felt wonderful. Logan flung his head back and made a throaty, wordless sound of pleasure as she arched her back and cried out with the intensity of the experience. Too much to bear, he gave one final yell and felt himself pulsing to completion within her welcoming heat.

Collapsing bonelessly on the bed, they crawled into each other's arms and simply held each other for a moment, breathing hard, reliving the final flickers of the experience.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

Just the sound of two sets of breathing returning to normal for a while, then:

"Logan?"

"Mmmm?"

"We forgot something."

He opened one eye and looked at her, puzzled. In reply, she simply slid a hand down his body and stroked the damp length of him, smiling as she felt him twitch beneath her fingers. He lay back with a sigh of contentment, looking a trifle smug.

"Logan."

"Mm?"

"Protection?"

The comment seemed to take a second or two to penetrate the rosy glow currently suffusing her lover's mind. When it did, however, the result was nothing short of electr/P> /P>

His eyes shot open again, staring fixedly at the ceiling for a moment. Then, so slowly she could almost hear the muscles in his neck creak, he turned his head to stare at her, still holding the horrified look in his eyes.

"Hello? Earth to Logan?"

He blinked.

"Look, don't worry, I've got it covered. But if you're carrying anything, so help me I'll come looking for you with a crowbar one night."

He rolled his head back and closed his eyes again, groaning and rubbing his hand across his face.

"I'm sorry…I just didn't think…"

"Do this a lot, do you?" Marie asked wryly. He turned on his side, propped himself up on one elbow, and regarded her solemnly.

"No. Never, actually. But you just - "

She could feel it coming - the Conversation. The one that mentioned big words like Love, and Commitment. So, although it just about broke her heart to turn away from the soulful hazel eyes that would be incredibly easy to fall right into, she interrupted him with a light laugh.

"Come on. I've given you enough shocks for one night. Am I right that you came straight off stage and never even showered?"

A brief look of hurt flashed across his face, which he covered magnificently with a sly grin.

"You sayin' I smell?"

"I'm saying we both do. Come on, rock star - shower!"

With that, he gave a mock growl and lunged for her. Giggling, she shot out of the other side of the bed and challenged him.

"Last one in's a rotten egg!"

By the time they actually got into the shower, the mood had been restored. Amazing what a naked game of very adult 'kiss chase' can do for your libido, mused Marie as she smoothed sweet scented suds over Logan's chest and slowly slid her hands lower. He laughed aloud as she began - once more - to coax him into life.

"Holy shit, woman! Are you trying to kill me or what?"

"Or what," she replied with an impish grin, dropping to one knee in order to soap his legs. He had such good legs, for a man; long and lean, hard muscled and well shaped. She slowly ran her fingernails from his instep to his groin, making him moan quietly. Encouraged by his response, she leaned forward and took his length gently in her mouth, using the opportunity to massage his ass with both hands. He gasped aloud, a sound that rapidly became a moan as she ran her tongue along the underside of his cock, pausing to swirl it slowly around the tip.

"Oh god," he groaned.

No, she thought to herself, just me.

Leaning forward again, she carefully took him into her mouth - then tried something Jean had always sworn blind would bind a man to you forever if you could actually do it. She relaxed her throat, and engulfed him entirely, root to tip. She felt him twitch and heard him gasp as she took the opportunity to rub her tongue gently along his now rock hard underside.

He'd been reduced to making small animal noises at the back of his throat, leaning against the shower wall for support. Gotcha, she thought cheerfully, then slowly slid back until holding the very end between her teeth; then she repeated the whole procedure.

She wasn't terribly surprised when he dragged her away from him to stand, and held her close, trembling slightly.

"Aargh…"

"Good, huh?" she murmured smugly.

He growled at her again, switched off the water and pointed a finger dramatically toward the bedroom.

"Bed, woman, now!"

Marie slowly backed out of the shower, and made a great show of carefully drying herself off, turning around and wiggling her backside provocatively at him as she slowly strolled back over toward the bed. She didn't get that far, being swept off her feet again as she passed the sumptuous sofa that graced his room's 'reception area'.

"Do you always do this?" she giggled as they tangled on it like a couple of teenagers on heat.

"Do what?"

"Keep picking your women up. In a literal sense."

"Well…you are pretty small."

"Arrogant prick."

"I'm a…?" and with that, he began to tickle her. Everywhere. Mercilessly. However she twisted and turned, she simply couldn't escape his mobile, wicked hands; eventually pleading for mercy, he held her pinned to the couch, grinning up at her heaving chest as she struggled to get her breath back. The eroticism of the position was lost on neither of them; he lay mainly on top of her, legs twisted around ankles and arms linked behind her back.

"Logan," she panted

"Yeah?"

"Bed."

They went.

This time, it was slower, more leisurely; having taken the edge from their appetites they could afford to savour this course. It was slow and gentle, fiercely beautiful and full of tender savagery; in other words, they made love as if it were the end of the world.

*

Afterwards, as they relaxed in each other's arms, Marie noticed Logan wince as he shifted.

"You OK?"

"Ah, it's just my back. Gives me hell sometimes - can't think why it would be bothering me tonight…" he buried his face in her hair with a smile which swiftly turned to a hiss of pain.

"You got any oil or anything kicking around? Moisturiser, anything like that?"

"Kinky."

She hissed at him with exasperation, scowling fiercely. He raised his hands in mock surrender.

"In the bathroom, little purple bottle."

"Gotcha. Hold on, be right back."

She returned a minute or two later, reading the label on the small bottle of scented oil in her hands.

"I'm not even sure I want to ask why you've got this -"

"I wouldn't."

"Then I won't. Roll over."

She shifted the bedcovers around until she was happy, then spent a further few minutes gently shifting the positions of his head and arms until she was satisfied.

"What are you up to?" came the suspicious - if somewhat muffled - mutter from somewhere below her elbow.

"Shush. You'll see."

She warmed a little of the oil in her palms for a moment, then began to make slow, firm sweeps across his back, curving over his shoulders and smoothing the muscles of his arms.

"Mmmmmm…."

Down, then, to the small of his back. Small circles, followed by gentle kneading, rolling the stiffened tendons under the heels of her hands and soothing the taut nerves with the tips of her fingers. She could feel the tension trembling just under the surface of the skin, and with a smooth stroke of her deft hands she rolled it away.

"Where," Logan practically purred, "did you learn to do this?"

She smiled sadly, never slowing her hands' gentle movements over his back.

"Night school. I'm a qualified therapeutic masseuse and aromatherapist - bet you never knew that."

"Nope. Don't stop…what made you do it? Oh yeah…."

"Had a boyfriend with a bad back. Thought it might help."

"Did it?"

She frowned down at him. He clearly hadn't heard the do-not-go-there tone of voice.

"Yes. He got better. He knocked me around. He's history. End of story."

"Oh."

Stroking over the buttocks now. Her favourite part of a man - and these really were something special. Smooth and pale, nicely rounded and firm, leading down to those long, lean, powerful legs. She applied a little more pressure, and was rewarded with a groan of pleasure. Smiling now, she added a little more oil to her hands and slowly stroked her way down each leg, taking the time to spend a while working over the delicate muscles, tendons and ligaments of the foot. Logan sighed deeply, becoming even more relaxed. She chuckled quietly at him.

"Hard day at the office, dear?"

He snorted in amusement. "Mmmm. Killer."

Done now, she worked her way back up towards his head, pausing to tease out the last of the tension from his shoulders before sliding back under the covers beside him.

"Better?"

"You have no idea," he murmured sleepily, gathering her into his arms. "Stay with me," he added quietly, a moment later. She gave a small sigh of her own.

"For tonight."

"But - "

She shushed him gently, tucking herself more firmly into his arms. He stretched out, and turned off the light, stroking her hair and inhaling the scent of her before settling down.

"Goodnight, darlin'."

"Night, Logan."

*

Telephone. Alarm call.

Mm. Daylight.

What time is it? Too fucking early.

Telephone again. Shut up.

Better answer it.

"Wha?"

"Good morning, Mr Logan. You requested a ten a.m. call?"

"Mmph. Yeah."

Clunk.

Logan rolled over and stretched, pleased at how loose his back and legs felt. Must get that done again, he mused, reaching over to the other side of the bed to wake Marie.

Hmm. Empty. Cold. Not there. Where's my woman? Must be in the bathroom.

"Marie?"

No reply. No shower sound.

He sat up, rubbing at his eyes as the room swam slowly back into focus around him. Yup. He knew it. Alone. Turning, he realised there was a small scrap of paper pinned to the other pillow. Ripping it off, he turned it toward the light and read the few words.

'Logan -

Thanks. Early flight, can't hang around.

Marie.'

And underneath that, a drawing of a smiley face, one eye closed in a wink.

He flopped back on the bed, snorting with disgust. Shit. Oh well. He could always track her down again; and next time, she wouldn't escape so easily. Smiling, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

*

High above the Rockies, reclining in a comfortable seat and sipping at a cup of fine Earl Grey tea - which, she thought, always tasted faintly of dishwater, but never mind - Marie touched the window and sighed. She'd felt pretty bad, sneaking out with only a thin robe, stealing away leaving nothing but a note. She felt she should have spoken to him. Found out if he really…..

No. Never again. She'd promised herself, after the last time, never, ever, again. Love was…bad news. Even possible love. Even the prospect of love. Nip it in the bud. Don't let it happen. If all else fails, run like hell.

Don't flatter yourself, she thought sadly. He probably hasn't even realised you're gone. Sighing, she pulled the blind down against the sunrise, and settled down to watch the movie.

Only the flight attendant noticed the slow surge of tears, and wisely decided not to mention it.

*

Here I am, I'm in the wrong bed again

It's a game I just can't win

There you are breathin' soft on my skin, yeah

Still you won't let me in

So come on

Why save your kisses for a rainy day

Baby let the moment take your heart away

Have you ever needed someone so bad, yeah

Have you ever wanted someone you just couldn't have

Did you ever try so hard your world just fell apart

Have you ever needed someone so bad

And you're the girl I gotta have

I gotta have you baby, yeah

There you go, midnight promises again, yeah

But they're broken by the dawn

You wanna go further, faster everyday, baby

But in the morning you'll be gone

And I'm alone

Why save your ks fos for a rainy day

Baby let the moment take your heart away

Have you ever needed someone so bad, yeah

Have you ever wanted someone you just couldn't have

Did you ever try so hard your world just fell apart

Have you ever needed someone so bad

Every dream I dream is like

Some kinda rash 'n' reckless scene

To give out such crazy love

You must be some kinda drug

And if my time don't ever come

For me you're still the one

Damned if I don't, damned if I do

I gotta get a fix on you

Have you ever needed someone so bad, yeah

Have you ever wanted someone you just couldn't have

Did you ever try so hard your world just fell apart

Have you ever needed someone so bad, so bad

Have you ever wanted someone

Have you ever wanted someone, yeah

Did you ever try so hard that your world just fell apart

Have you ever needed someone so bad

And you're the girl I gotta have

I gotta have you baby, yeah

It's a game I just can't win, o>
<>

Have you ever needed someone so bad, yeah

Have you ever wanted someone

Have you ever wanted someone, you just couldn't have

Did you ever try so hard, yeah