Ya know, I'm a big man, I'll admit it. I can crush a beer can with my butt-cheeks, I fart and belch with the best of them, and I don't know how to cook a fucking thing. Of course I don't brag, cause only complete jerks brag. And I'm pretty proud of the fact that as manly as I am - I don't brag. I just sit in the corner of the rec room, with my beer and my cigar, and open the can with a bare claw. Bad ass. That's me.

Every day, I sit there in the early morning, watching something on the tv (doesn't matter what), and get ready to start the classes Chuck gets me to do. Everybody lopes through on their way to the dining-hall and grabs some breakfast. And every day Marie shuffles through sleepily, or brightly, crankily, depending on her mood, with some cute little outfit on that she always has, smiles at me at the chair and keeps on going. It's our thing.

It'd stopped for about three weeks, cause she'd had a run in with some thug when she went shopping for shoes. I mean - of all the places to get toppled over by a mutant - it's shopping for shoes. I wanted the rip the guy's spine out and strangle him with it but Rogue kinda beat me to it. Well, she didn't strangle him. She ripped his face-mask off when he went to grab her purse and he grabbed her throat. Not where the scarf was. With a bare hand.

Dickhead falls on top of her, face on hers, all drooling and dying and whammo -she's got a swearing asshole of a thug in her head.

My beer has been going missing a lot lately.

Anyway - Jean and Chuck helped her sort it out in her head, and just this week she was getting back to normal again. Well, as normal as she can get - remember how I said the thug was a mutant? Well genius got killed by his own stupidity and now Marie has a whole new set of powers to get used to. And I tell you what - I'm fucking sick of replacing door-knobs.

So she'd been walking past the recreation room every morning for the past week. Except today. One by one her pals went through, and my skin twitched and I felt tetchy. Something wasn't right - I knew it.

Now, I don't know why, but with Marie I just got this stupid instinctive thing that kicked in the day I picked her up off the side of the road. It followed me around Canada when I was on my 'sabbatical' and it's still with me now. When somethin' ain't right with Marie, my heckles are up. I feel agitated, I feel like breaking shit (more than usual) and of course, I gotta make some form of contact with her and make sure she's okay. This was a difficulty in Canada. Let's just say I bought a lot of phone-cards. Sometimes it spooked her out, that was the first couple of times it happened. After then it got to be a comfort, except she bitched at me for only calling her when she wasn't happy. I told her she wasn't happy too often. She agreed, but said she'd be happier if I called her more than an erratic three-week cycle. I said I didn't think I could afford more than that. She taught me the meaning of 'dial collect'. Thankfully Chuck didn't mind.

I promised myself I'd collar the next kid through the walk-way and make 'em tell me what's goin' on. Sheer dumb luck, I got Jubilee. Of course I didn't collar her. I may be a glutton for good violent fun but I'm not insane. I loped over to her and stood there, stock still, glaring at her. She had her shades over her eyes, looking suitably fucked for seven-thirty in the morning, and she pulled them up groggily and growled.

"Logan, don't you get enough thrills from Rogue or something?"

I let the corner of my mouth twitch in aggravation.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes, "What's up?"

"That's what I wanna know."

She frowned at me with some incomprehension, "Huh?"

"Where's Marie?"

"In bed," the girl hissed, "Where any self-respecting person under the age of twenty-five should be right now."

"She's usually up by now."

Jubilee shrugged, "Not today, Furball."

She stepped forward to go round me but I grabbed her arm, "Why?"

The girl rolled her eyes and pointed at her stomach, "Ladies business dude!"

I let go of Jubilee like she was diseased and the girl loped off snickering. I looked down the hall to where the doors to the dormitory wing were, and I frowned. See - I didn't deal with shit like this. I dealt with hockey games and beer and cigars and bullying One-Eye and Gumbo and making Marie and Red blush. I didn't do 'ladies business'. That's what troubled me.

I've never had to. Marie's been perfectly fine with it, from what I could tell. I mean, she's never locked herself away because of it before. She's never mentioned it, it's a non-existent thing. No ladies business - not with Marie.

'Cept now. I frowned. I wasn't sure what to do, cause I sure as hell wasn't going to let her be sick or whatever without me makin' sure she was okay.

So... I'd made my decision.... I was walking down the hall and making sure Marie was okay. Crap.

I knocked on the door. No reaction. Knocked again. A groan.

"Marie?"

"Ungnn... fuck off!"

Then I heard the sound of vomiting. At that I burst in the door.

She didn't turn to look at me. She was dangling over the side of her bed and letting rip into a bucket. I didn't say anything, I just ran over and pulled her hair up out of her face.

"Go away!" she grumbled between wretches.

"No!"

"Ah look like shit!"

"So?"

She whimpered and gave the bucket another colourful hello.

"Jesus..."

"Yeah," she coughed, and grabbing a tissue from her bedside table she wiped at her mouth groggily, "Tell me about it."

"I thought that only happened like... if you were pregnant or something..."

She gave me a dark glower and rolled back up onto her bed, collapsing onto her back. "I wish."

I watched her a moment. Her hair was straggled, knotted, a little sweaty, her face was really pale. It worried me. She curled up suddenly, then uncurled. She huffed and couldn't seem to keep still.

"Logan," she moaned.

I scooted up on the bed and held her hand, "Yeah?"

"Pop your claws..."

I held up a fist and let 'em out.

She held onto my fist, gloved fingers running over the ripples of claw under skin.

"Now... rip off your testicles."

I glared at her, "Marie!"

She chuckled and it lasted only a flash as she buried her head in the covers, "FUCK!"

Okay, I'll admit it. I squirmed. The girl was in agony, and had no idea what to do.

"Uhh.... aren't I supposed to get like, hot towels or something?"

She groaned, "Logan! That's for women in labour!!"

"Oh..."

Christ, I wondered why the hell I was there.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she sighed, digging her way out of her quilt and grabbing onto my hand tightly, "I'm sorry, I just -" She screwed up her face a moment and panted, "Oh I never had 'em this bad before."

"No?"

She shook her head, her eyes tearing up, "God...oww."

"Ya had like - pain-killers or something."

She nodded through a wince and held up four fingers.

"Wow."

"Done jack shit."

"Maybe I should get Jean?"

She sighed, "That'd be nice."

I looked down to the bucket and winced, "I'll get rid of this too."

"Thanks."

I looked at her for a moment. Her eyes were closed, her face twisted in pain, but somehow in a state of cautious relaxation. I put my hand on her shoulder, the slender bony thing it was, and caressed it lightly. Leaning over pressed me lips to her hair and scruffed it carefully.

"I'll be right back."

I tried to think where Jean would be at this time. Probably still eating breakfast. Ohhh shit. I was going to half to talk about this. In public. With a woman. I could feel myself blushing already.

The dining hall was full up, and the X-Men table was too. The full cavalry was there, and at one end Storm and Jean sat, chatting over eggs and salad. I approached as casually as I could, and it wasn't till halfway across the room I realised that I looked like I was doing a bad impersonation of John Travolta from that poofy disco flick. I shook it off and strode over to Jean and Storm, pulling up a chair between them and sitting on it backwards. I was going to need to protect every ounce of masculinity I had.

Storm smiled, "Hey Logan."

"Hi."

"Hi," said Jean without looking up.

"You okay?" asked Storm, narrowing her eyes at me, "You look... tetchy."

I sighed. Okay, this was going to be hard. "I'm fine, uh... it's Marie."

Now Jean looked up. "Oh... is she okay?"

"Uh, not really. She um..." I rolled my neck nervously, popping a few kinks and I sighed, "She's got uh..." I pointed downstairs, "You know..."

"Oh her periods," stated Storm matter-of-factly. I think I started blushing, and that's fucking unmanly.

"It's okay Logan," Jean said with a pert smile, "They're a perfectly normal part of a woman's reproductive cycle-"

She prattled on and I frowned. First off - Marie? Woman? Nuh-uh. Not that I noticed - or - shit. Anyway - did she think I knew nothing of the human body?! I been in a few cafés, I read some Time-Life once (for lack of Motorcycle Monthly).

"I wouldn't be here," I said firmly, "If she were perfectly normal, Jean."

She stopped. "Oh."

Storm frowned, "What's wrong?"

I winced, "She's crampin' really strong, she was hurlin' chunks too."

Storm dropped her fork. "Thank you."

If it were a less stressful situation, I would have smirked.

"I think - maybe it has something to do with her new powers."

Jean wiped at her mouth demurely with a napkin and stood.

"Tell you what. I'll go prepare the infirmary, you go get Rogue." Jean glanced across the table, "Hank, can you take over my algebra class this morning?"

The blue-faced man blinked, "But what of my shift at the infirmary?"

"I can do it," she said, "I got a case to treat."

He seemed a little put out. "I'm sure I could-"

Jean cleared her throat, striding over to him and whispering something to him. He nodded, a look of understanding on his face and Jean trotted over. I frowned. How come he was so damned cool about it? What did Jean say? 'Hi Hank, gotta go treat a bleeder'? Maybe it was a doctor thing. I dunno.

I raced back to Marie's room, after a quick stop off to a supply closet and my own room. When I got there she was sobbing. I was frowning, clean empty bucket in hand, wondering if the pain had gotten worse. That's when I noticed the open door to the bathroom.

"You took it away you big jerk!" she cried. "I spewed all over the damn bathroom floor!"

I almost whimpered, running to her and giving her the bucket, "Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry Marie."

She sniffled, throwing her tissue off the bed. "It's okay. Just rip off your testicles like I asked you to."

"Will you stop trying to get me to mutilate myself?!"

She gave a childish pout and huffed, "Why? You're a man, you deserve it."

I frowned at her, "That's sexist, Marie."

"Ah know," she said, her face screwing up as a sob grew in her chest, "But it's also fair!"

Pulling more tissues from the box on the bedside table she sobbed into it, rolling onto her side. I sighed, shifting closer and pulling her to me.

"Come on, baby," I said, smoothing her hair, "Jean's gonna take care a' ya. We just gotta get you to the infirmary."

She laughed, completely without mirth.

"HA! You expect me to get there when Ah couldn' even make it to the damned toilet?!"

I twisted a lip in thought. "Good point. We'll find a way around it."

She nodded, sitting up and pulling her legs over the side. I frowned, curiosity growing in me. Now, generally, I don't even want to think about this shit, but with Marie this unwell from it, I kinda felt an obligation to know what was wrong with her. Crazy, I know. She stood uneasily, her hand on my shoulders, and with an uneasy sway of her head she looked up at me. As tired as her eyes were, there was a thankfulness in them that warmed me to my core. I whipped my arm under her knees and brought her up, cradling her like a baby. She squeaked.

"Logan! What the hell are you doin'?!"

I huffed, "Gettin' you to Jean."

She frowned fitfully, "What if I spew on you?!"

I shrugged, "I'll change."

With that I started for the sickbay, going through the more quieter corridors to avoid the other kids, and once we were in the concealed lift down, we were safe. I hefted her, adjusting my hand so it could stroke her cheek. She started a moment and frowned, looking at my gloves.

"They smell like burnt rubber, Logan."

"All I got," I said.

She sighed, nestling against me. With an uncomfortable cough, I asked her.

"What - what's it like?"

She frowned, eyes closed, "What's what like?"

I shrugged, "You know."

"Stop shrugging," she growled, "I don't know."

I sighed, "Periods."

"Oh." She frowned, eyes still closed as she rested, "It's like... every muscle from your diaphragm to your toes twisting tighter than a - um - tight thing."

She was obviously too tired to wax poetic.

"And um..." She opened her eyes, and looked up at me, "I never used to... but now I got a headache. A bad headache. And my back hurts. A lot. It's just -hot pain, hot long lazy pain that just never goes away."

"But it does."

She whimpered, "Doesn't feel like it when you're in the middle of them."

I felt awful, I'll admit it. Six foot of manly me was just felt my skin crawling all over as she described it. I hated it, I hated that she had this pain. Her face was ivory, sweet against the folds of flannel that clothed me, and with some guilty indulgence along with a lot of inner paternal instinct that tough guys like me just aren't supposed to have, I let the round of my leather-clad thumb stroke it gently.

"Ya think if you had superhealing you'd have them so bad?"

She looked up at me and narrowed her eyes, "Don't even think about it Logan."

I smiled wryly, hugging her to me.

"Not too tight, sugah."

I rested my cheek against her hair a moment, making some real dumb ass attempts to keep her calm as she hissed and whimpered to herself on and off. We made it to the infirmary, and striding in we were greeted by Jean's (oh so immaculate) behind, the front half of her immersed in her fridge full of drugs.

"Oh, hi guys," she said, stepping back and closing the fridge behind her with a bump of her hip, "Hey Rogue."

She moaned.

Jean just smiled, "It's okay, I'll get you feeling on top of the world in no time."

I set Marie down on one of the recovery beds, and before I realised what I was doing, I was stroking her hair out of her face and puffing her pillows. She groaned.

"Logan, stop it."

I froze, "Uh... right."

"You can play with my hair when it's washed," she mumbled.

I was hoping the pain was making her delirious. Jean strode swiftly over to us, poking a bottle of - something - with a needle.

"Okay - Logan can you move a sec?"

"Sure..."

I backed off, and she pulled at Marie's clothing, exposing the creamy skin, the lines of her veins pale blue in the nape of her elbow. Jean's gloved hand dabbed at it with a cotton bud and Jean looked to her.

"You ready?"

"Go for it," Marie said, rolling her eyes, "Right now someone's ripping my colon out with a crotchet needle. That's gonna feel like a holiday."

I winced. The needle went in, and Marie didn't bat an eyelid. She did squirm however.

"Jean..."

"Hmm?"

"I need to change."

"Mmmhmm."

Marie sighed, "I mean change change."

Jean looked up, pressing the cotton bud to the needle as she drew it out. "Ohhhhh. Hang on."

She frowned, looking down at her hands busily cleaning up after the needle.

"Logan - can you just go to that cupboard over there? There should be a packet of ladies supplies."

I glared at her.

"You're shitting me."

Glancing up to me she glowered, "Logan..."

"Okay okay!"

I grumbled and growled to myself, and I heard the girls behind me chatting -about supplies.

"Are you sure you want a tampon? They can cause more cramping..."

Damn my sensitive hearing, damn it all to hell! I grit my teeth.

"Oh - jus' get me one a' each so I got one fer later."

"Logan?"

I turned around, my brow cocking, my eyes glinting with a threat of insanity, "Yes?"

"Get one of each will you?"

I closed my eyes a moment, then tried to vent my sudden overwhelming embarrassment with a clench of my fists.

"One of each of what?"

Jean sighed, "A pad, and a tampon."

Kaaaaaaay. I turned around, feeling that awful creep of complete humiliation, opening the cupboard door. Aaah. Yes, there were supplies. There were a range of supplies. I turned around, grimacing. When I spoke, my voice was sickly sweet.

"Jean..."

"Yes Logan?"

"How many kinds of tampon does a woman really need?"

This seemed to cause Jean some amusement as she sniggered. She actually sniggered.

"Lots Logan. Super - both of them."

I turned back to the cupboard, and knew damned well I was blushing red as a beet. And I got her supplies. Both fucking kinds. From the packets all prettily decorated saying 'Super' like you'd won some fucking prize to Tahiti. Turning around stiffly I walked back to the bed, throwing them onto it. Now Marie giggled.

"It's okay, Logan," she said, "You won't catch girl cooties."

I titled my head, propping my hands on my hips, "You wanna say that the next tim I haul your ass down here when you're writhing in agony?!"

She giggled again and sighed, wriggling out of the bed, "Ah'm sorry, you just look so funny."

The brow went up again, "Funny?"

She nodded, "Like the things are gonna bite you'r'somethin'."

She grabbed them and plodded to the infirmary bathroom. Jean was leaning against the wall and smiling.

"That was very brave of you," she said, "You're a real big man."

I sighed and sank down on the chair, shaking my head.

"You should have seen her in her room Jeannie," I said, running a hand through my hair, "She was in a shitload of pain."

Jean nodded and shrugged, "Yeah that doesn't surprise me with her new abilities. No reason why her improved musculature doesn't go all the way through her body."

Okay - she had to say all the way through, mental pictures following that train of thought, and it took a lot of will-power to stop me from slapping myself around the room, I'll tell you that for nothing. Then that shitty curiosity took over again. I looked up at Jean, "Improved musculature?"

She grinned, "Yeah. How else do you think she grew incredibly strong, super magical energies or something?"

I shook my head, "No I just never thought about it."

Marie came back in, looking incredibly relieved, adjusting her night-gown.

"Christ that feels better."

She collapsed onto the bed, face down.

"Well," Jean checked her watch, "I missed the beginning of that Algebra class. I'm gonna go do that cataloguing I didn't finish last night. You're free to row with the other slaves, Rogue."

Marie gave a groan. "I don't wanna move."

"Come on," I said, tapping her shoulder, "I'll take you back."

"Oh yay," she said, still muffled by the bed, "Time to board the Logan Express."

I rolled her over roughly and glowered at her, and the imp just grinned back up at me. Okay, obviously someone was feeling better, but she still looked exhausted. She frowned.

"Hey Jean!"

Jean turned from the bottle she was disposing of, "Yeah?"

"This is gonna happen every month huh?"

Jean's light look grew mellow, and she nodded, "I'm afraid so, Rogue. I'm sure I can develop a serum that you can take once a month safely."

"Okay."

"Yeah," she nodded, "Hopefully you can take it orally before a meal instead of an injection."

"Ah hate injections," she grumbled. "Thanks Jean."

"It's okay, Rogue."

I looked down at the girl again, lying there on her back in front of me, her gaze cast to the ceiling. I felt bad for her, again. It was another thing she'd have to worry about, like her touch. Then again, there were perfectly normal people that had to worry about taking all sorts of medication, and I'm sure a lot of women chugged down pain-killers during their periods too. I scooped her up in my arms, and she complained this time.

"I feel so stupid!"

"Can you walk?"

"Uhm..." she sighed, headbutting my shoulder before settling into it, "I think I'll fall asleep before then."

"Right," I nodded, and adjusted my hold of her, making sure she was well nestled. "Seeya Jean."

"Bye guys," she called over her shoulder.

Thankfully, despite improved musculature, she was light enough for this not to be a piss off. Then again, I had an armful of Marie, and that could never be a piss off. I needed that slapping around real bad. Somehow on the way she fell asleep against my chest, her face and her hands all ruffled up in my shirts. Okay, I admit it. It felt kinda nice, having her lean on me like that. I felt like well - those dudes in the old stories, that'd save the princesses and that shit. Except that Marie wasn't helpless. She was strong, and brave and had everything she needed to survive. She probably could have stayed in that room too if she wanted. She let me be the bastard manly man I felt the need to be. Kinda reminded me how stupid it was to take that shit too seriously too. I knew that though, yeah.

Yeah all right, I forgot, but she put me right and I remember now.

We reached her room, and I placed her down carefully, pulling her covers up over her. She took a sweet breath in and smiled, eyes still shut.

"Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you, you're a sweety."

I scratched behind my ear nervously and shrugged, "That's okay, Marie, any time."

Before I turned and made for the door, her hand dropped down and grabbed mine, squeezing a moment. I sighed, squeezing back and running my lips over the knuckles.

"Get some sleep, Marie."

She nodded, rolling over and burying herself under the covers.

I swear to God, that girl is going to be the death of me.