The X-jet sailed through the night air under Scott's expertise, while Storm rolled a heavy fog in their wake. Jean tried to assist Logan, but the young girl that she'd met only once refused to leave his side. She was hovering possessively about him, her gloved hands running over his chest, his face and hair almost frantically. After the scratches on his face began to heal slowly, the doctor backed off, deciding that any damage that had occurred would hold until they got to the medical bay.

Of course, she really didn't have much choice aside from physically removing the girl. And it would take physicality - the last time she had tried to get too close to assess his condition, Rogue had actually growled. If the situation weren't so desperate, Jean would have been amused. After all the excitement had died down, she probably still would be. With a sigh, she leaned back into her seat, turning her gaze away from the man and his 'protector.'

---

She was caught between hating and wanting the red-haired doctor. Even as she yearned to rip the woman apart for her place in Logan's fantasy life, she found herself imagining those fantasies, Jean naked, beneath him, urging him on.

Snapping her eyes open, Marie glared down at the still-unconscious man who had nearly lost his life to save hers. If she weren't so grateful to him, so enamored of him, she'd hate him even more than Dr. Jean Grey right now. Her mind was a mesh of concentration camps and grandiose plans to makeover the world, experimentation and sexual exploits, fear, sorrow, hatred, lust and regret. Even as she sat by Logan's side tightly clutching his hand, she fought to separate the Eric Lensherr from the Wolverine from Marie in her head.

As Jean moved about the medlab, her movements fluid and graceful, she found Logan roaring to the forefront, his desires and attitude overlaying her every thought . even her own instincts. She cared for Logan; therefore the idea of any other woman - especially this one - was repugnant to her. Marie didn't recall ever being a particularly jealous person, so she rather figured those were his animal instincts affecting her own reactions. To be honest, it was embarrassing, she thought to herself even as a growl emerged from her throat without warning as Jean reached out to take Logan's pulse.

---

Jean suppressed a sigh of annoyance as the girl once again growled at her. This was ridiculous. "Rogue?" She spoke softly, doing her damnedest to keep the exasperation out of her voice. "I understand that you're worried about Logan, but I need to take care of him. If you'll just -"

" - Logan doesn't need medical attention," the young girl spit out angrily, her eyes raking over Jean, anger warring with lust? Lust? The girl - Oh My God! She was channeling Logan! Jean was familiar enough with that look from Logan's first couple of days in the mansion to recognize it in this young girl's eyes. Her voice dropped. "Just go."

"Rogue," she tried again, but then stopped as she realized that she was simply at a loss for words. Despite Logan's perception of her being in the girl, it was clear that there was also a level of animosity that came straight from her own emotions. And as Rogue looked away, softness fell across her face once her gaze fell to Logan. Her gloved fingers ran lightly, tenderly over his face and a sweet sigh fell from her lips. Sighing softly, Jean recognized where the anger came from now.

And again, if the situation were not as it was, she would feel differently about the young girl's crush on him. In fact, once Logan was completely recovered, she would consider it sweet - but right now, it was not sweet, it was aggravating and frustrating as hell because she had a patient that needed her care whether this girl or the man roaming inside of her head believed so.

Glancing down at the man in question, she noted that the scratches and bruises on his face were all but gone. Sighing, she offered quietly, "I'll give you some time alone with him, but I have to check his injuries." She paused and then added sincerely, "Please?"

The girl was silent and still for a moment before nodding slightly.

---

"Just go," Marie murmured softly, wanting to be alone with Logan for just a little bit. With Jean out of the way, she might be able to suppress these wanting thoughts of her and just enjoy being with him.

"Rogue," the doctor began and then stopped suddenly. Marie could practically feel the irritation dripping from her rival in the heavy sigh that followed her attempt to reason with a wounded Wolverine. And then there was complete silence before the doctor spoke softly, finally giving her what she'd wanted from the moment they arrived.

Of course, it came with a price. In order to be alone with him, she'd have to let the woman touch him. An involuntary shudder ran through her body, but - inwardly she sighed, it would be worth it to have some time just with him.

She nodded and Jean was gone almost immediately.

Marie turned her attention fully to Logan, feeling a smile spread across her face. He may want Jean Grey, but it was her that he cared about, her that was worth dying for. He had promised to take care of her and he had almost killed himself in order to do just that. She couldn't control the breathy sigh that fell from her lips.

Her gaze wandered over the planes of his face, marveling the angry gashes that were all but gone now. And suddenly an urge to feel that skin beneath her bare fingers filled her with an unbearable hunger. She hadn't wanted to touch this badly since she'd first lost the freedom to do so.

Inside her mind, she could hear an echo of his voice. Touch was important to him. But impossible for her. Clenching her hand tightly, her nails bit against the fabric pressing into his flesh. She stopped, her fingers still curled as realization hit her.

It was something.

With a trembling hand she pulled one of her gloves off and paused, staring at her bare hand for a moment. The Logan within urged her on. It won't hurt me, it cried and Marie lightly, gingerly pressed the edge of her nail against his face. And she felt nothing but the softness of his skin against the curved surface. And then carefully, so carefully she bent her finger, pressing the flat of her nail against his flesh and she could almost feel him, almost feel the heat.

Tears slid from her eyes as the shaking in her hand increased. In sudden fear she jerked her hand away, not wanting to risk a real touch. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the scent of Jean, a real woman who could risk a real touch and so much more. And the tears fell faster, but still silent. A choking sob escaped her and then was muffled as quickly as she could as the door pushed open, Jean's heels clicking on the hard floor.

Shakily Marie pulled her glove back on and pushed away from the bed, her hands rising to wipe away the moisture on her face.

"I need to check him," Jean's voice was soft, understanding in the words. She knew. She could read her so easily and she knew. Marie turned to face the doctor, the woman who could touch Logan anytime she wanted, every time he wanted. And she knew how Marie felt, she understood. It was crystal clear on her face, in the sympathetic look in her eyes.

And it only made Marie hate her more.

THE END