It was fun to watch the Cajun get in over his head. In Logan's opinion, it was quite a good show.

“Y’ never even been kissed?” He sounded shocked, incredulous, as though such a thing were not only sure to be nearly impossible, but a tragedy if it had truly come to pass.

“Just brief peck on the lips followed by my mutation manifestin’ violently within a couple seconds of contact. Ah don’t think of it as a kiss really, just a catastrophe,” Rogue replied idly, setting down her beer.

Remy leaned in and tilted her chin up with his knuckle. “Maybe dis Cajun teach you, eh?” He moved to press his lips to hers, but Rogue caught him with a deft twist, pushing him down into a patio chair and pinning him there, leaning in close.

“Never said Ah didn’t know how, swamp rat. Ah’ve got a couple hundred years’ worth of other people’s thoughts an’ memories in my head an’ ya think Ah didn’t learn a thing or two?” She cupped his jawline. “Here’s a learnin’ opportunity for ya.” She kissed him, her lips firm and hungry, but not rushed and not hasty. She took her time, teased, cajoled, possessed, and conquered the conquerer, the King of Hearts. It was powerful and domineering; the girl knew how to put on a show, and more than that, she apparently knew how to bring a man to madness.

Remy had not resisted, and indeed had cupped the back of her head, but within a minute was almost squirming, clutching at her desperately, his breathing ragged. When his hands began wandering a bit far, Rogue pulled back and stepped away, her own breathing calm and her demeanor utterly at ease.

“What have we learned?” she crooned.

Remy stared at her, his red-on-black eyes wide with shock and fogged with lust. “I t’ink you de most evil creature in de world if y’ leave me like this, or de most merciful if you get closer again,” he purred, almost pleading, and reached out a hand for her.

Rogue stepped back so that she was just out of his reach. “Ah’m gonna hafta go with ‘evil’, but really this is more merciful than anything else; ya just cain’t keep up with me, Sugah.” She shook her head a little, looking almost disappointed. “Find somebody ya ain’t afraid of. G’night, Remy.” She turned on her heel and left.

Logan watched the roll of her hips as she walked away, and tested her scent on the air: tinged with faint frustrated lust and disappointment. Feeling his body eagerly responding to the scent, Logan had to ask himself, with more hesitation than he cared to acknowledge, if he could keep up with this one any more than Remy.

The answer, of course, was Damned straight, I can, but with less bravado than usual. Rogue was more than a challenge, she was a worthy opponent and one of his most valued friends, his most trusted confidant (although she may hardly know it), a woman who had for the longest time been quite literally ‘untouchable’, and more than that, she could beat Logan at his own game roughly half the time, and Logan knew he was the best at what he did; so, apparently, was Rogue. ‘Best’ was a word easily applied to her.

And Logan was tired of settling for anything less.

“Hey, Rogue.”

“Yeah, Wolvie?”

Damning Jubilee’s penchant for ridiculous pet-names, Logan leaned against the wall next to the patio chair Rogue occupied. It was the same one Remy had occupied a few nights ago, when Rogue had taught the Cajun a little lesson. “I can keep up with you, ya know.”

Rogue’s brow furrowed, then cleared as she remembered, and finally drew down a little in irritation as she turned her head to glare at him. “And apparently eavesdrop, too.”

Logan shrugged. “Wanted to see the Cajun go down in flames. Funny as Hell.” He got one last puff out of the stub of his cigar and dropped it, crushing it under the heel of his boot.

“And, what, ya got the idea that you could handle me since Remy couldn’t?” Rogue growled, sounding a little suspicious.

“I’ve been the only one around here for years who could deal with you without fuckin’ oven-mitts; so yeah, I think I’d be worth consideration.” He raised an eyebrow at her, curious to see her reaction.

Surprise first, then disbelief, then suspicion, then...guardedness, unease, and a hint of curiosity: Rogue looked Logan up and down slowly, from the soles of his boots to the tips of his hair, taking in the shape of his limbs, his torso, his hands and handsome features, with a new degree of interest.

For half a second, Logan was sure that she’d claim he was too old for her, or that he was a father-figure, but he was sure he knew her better than that, and that she wouldn’t use that as an excuse when she looked at him the way she sometimes did, and her own age was so impossible to determine: was she twenty-seven as her body suggested, or two-hundred-and-four as her mentality did?

“Never really thought about it,” she admitted, and she was honest, but looked thoughtful, as though she were thinking she’d been missing out. “Then again, most of the time Ah’ve known ya, my head was so full a’ testosterone that lookin’ at guys that way, especially companions an’ friends, still felt like some kinda affront to my masculinity. It’s hard t’ make any kinda sexy first-impressions that way.”

“You’ve always had that issue with gettin’ past first impressions,” Logan acknowledged, still watching her face as she began to look more seriously thoughtful and, if he wasn’t mistaken, deeply interested.

“Yeah, at least until somebody points out Ah’m doin’ it, and that’s usually you, ain’t it, Sugah?” She smirked a little, raising her beer to those full lips of hers again as she took a sip.

Logan’s eyes lingered on her lips. “It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it. And it saves me from dealin’ with one of your guilt trips later.” He took her beer when she went to set it down, and raised it to his lips, his tongue brushing the bottle and tasting her lips before he took a swig of beer and set the bottle down.

Rogue had watched, and he’d held her gaze solemnly. She was interested, no denying that: body and mind both, oh, was she ever interested. She got to her feet, turning to face him, and ran her fingers along Logan’s jawline. “Ya sure you’re up to the challenge, old man?” she dared, her green eyes bright, but her words were both teasing and harshly challenging.

Settling a hand on her lower back and pressing her against him so she could feel the growl as it rumbled up from deep in his chest, Logan leaned in and caught her lips. His mouth was skilled, matching hers perfectly as she responded and tried to seize control, until he finally parted her lips with his tongue and got a much more satisfying taste of her: beer and mesquite and something richer and more complex in flavor than any wine on earth. She kept up with him and matched him as he teased, enflamed him for every bit that he enflamed her with a show of skill or a more spontaneously well-timed stroke over a spot that made her breath catch.

He pulled her a little closer when he felt her hands’ grip on his biceps begin to tighten unconsciously. He managed to push her up against the wall, pressing his knee between her thighs and pulling her hips against his so that he could almost feel the heat of her sex through the layers of cloth between them. As it was, he could definitely feel the way she arched against him, and the way her hips writhed under his hands, her movements brushing her hip against his growing erection in a way both desperate and deliberately teasing on her part.

God, she was good, and she was breathing hard, too, her hands wandering under his shirt and exploring the feel of his skin and the shifting muscles just beneath. Then she clutched at him again, gasping a little against his mouth when his thigh rubbed against her sex through her jeans in just the right way, the denim seams rough and almost painful, but applying the perfect amount of pressure to just the right spot, making her tremble a little and buck her hips, her kissing growing more desperate until the muscles of her thighs and belly contracted and fluttered under the force of her climax.

Logan felt it, smelled it, and ran a hand down between them, pressing his fingers against her clit through the fabric and rubbing a little harder, breaking the kiss to watch her face as the powerful aftershocks he instigated prolonged her ecstasy, leaving her to whimper and gasp until she finally seized his wrist in a tight hold to make him stop, because she was unable to take it any more. Patiently, Logan watched her float back down to earth.

Her eyes were shut, but their lids fluttered a little, and tightened a little in surprise when Logan’s lips brushed first one and then the other, which seemed even more confusing than usual in her post-orgasmic haze. Then she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Damn, that was good,” she breathed, but trailed off into a faint groan when Logan leaned in to kiss her neck.

“Told you I could keep up with you,” Logan murmured against her skin, then bit it tenderly, lips and teeth pulling at her skin. His fingers pushed against her again, feeling the shape of her mons through her jeans before moving away to grab her hip, even as his other hand slid down to cup her lovely derriere`.

Rogue made a little incoherent noise. “Yeah, yeah ya can.” Her voice sounded thoughtful, hopeful. She licked her lips and nuzzled his temple. “Let’s give it a shot, Sugah.” She wriggled her hips and heard him give a grunt of restraint. She let her hands caress their way down his back, her thumbs hooking in the hem of his jeans. “We’ll see how it goes.”

Logan smirked and pulled back enough to meet her gaze again. “Who gets to tell Lebeau?” He couldn’t help the touch of satisfaction and amusement in his voice.

“Ooh, tough one.” Rogue bit her lip, distracting Logan a bit. “How about Ah wrestle ya for it? Greek style, except that Ah’m not another man.”

Logan’s fingers were already unbuttoning her jeans. “Your room or mine, darlin’?”

“Yours is soundproofed.”

“I like the way you think, Marie.”

She hesitated a little at the old name, but then smiled. “Just keep up, yeah?”

“Always,” Logan growled, and nibbled along her throat, making her sigh contentedly. Then he groaned as she slid her hand into his jeans and wrapped her fingers around him softly, only to stroke him hard. He gave a low grunt of pleasure when she paused to squeeze the base of him not-too-hard. “Goddamn, Marie.”

“Your room, Logan,” she crooned, but he could hear that her control was thin. A slight tremor in her breath confirmed it. “Ah’d forgotten how gifted ya are.”

“When did ya learn in the first place?” Logan managed to ask, even as her soft hand continued to explore his length all-too-intently.

“When Ah had ya in my head a little more, way back when.” Her lips brushed his ear, and her tongue traced the edge of it before she gave a low hum. “Ya feel good, Sugah,” she breathed, and he did, hot heavy and smooth in her hand. “Ah’d like t’ taste ya, but not out here where any of the kids could get a free show...or more psychological scars for their collection, dependin’ on which a’ the kids.”

Logan growled faintly, but finally agreed, and reluctantly added, “If you keep doin’ that, walkin’ will not be on my agenda, kids or no damned kids.”

Rogue laughed softly, but took her hand out of his pants as Logan re-zipped hers. “Ya gonna let me down, Sugah, or do Ah gotta push ya?” She could push him; her super-strength was well-controlled, and she rarely unleashed it, but if she was anything, Rogue was an opportunist, and would use it if given an excuse.

In response, Logan grabbed her thigh, lifting it so that her leg hooked over his hip. “Ya really wanna go anywhere?”

Rogue’s other leg wrapped around him instinctively and she writhed a little at the feel of his hardness pressing against her. “Ah guess some things are a little conspicuous.”

Logan pushed off the wall, carrying Rogue as he stepped through the patio doors. “Your fault, Darlin’.”

“So long as it wasn’t the Greek wrestling that caused it, all will be well,” Rogue teased.

Logan gave a low growl and dragged her into the elevator.

Faintly, they heard Scott call for someone to hold the elevator. Rogue reached out to hit the button not just for the floor Logan’s room was on, but also the one that made the door hiss shut seconds before Scott reached it. The sight just before the doors shut puzzled the fearless leader immensely. He’d expected to be ignored by Logan with a woman (and it had been a Hell of a while since he’d seen that, and he’d been worried that the man was going to go after Jean again) but he could have sworn he’d just caught sight of that oh-so-distinct bicolor hair, white-and-brown that contrasted sharply even in shades of red.

The owner of that distinctive hair was looking up at Logan expectantly, because there was something oddly soft in the wicked grin he gave her. “Logan...where do ya want this to go, other than ya bed?” She did not look unsure, or like she wanted to influence his answer by plea or any attempts to tug at his heart-strings; she was simply curious, and still smiling a little.

Logan leaned them both against the wall of the elevator, lifting one hand to push her hair back behind her ear as he examined her face. “Some exclusivity would be nice,” he mused.

“If it goes both ways,” Rogue countered. “I don’t share well with others.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Logan murmured, his fingers brushing the back of her neck lightly enough to make her shiver. He leaned closer, so his lips brushed her ear. “I want us to have this, Marie, for as long as we can,” he rumbled.

Rogue almost whimpered at the feel and the sounds of him because, Goddamn, his voice all deep and growling like that just turned her spine to water. She wrapped her arms about his shoulders. “Logan...”

“I want to have some hold on you, like you’ve had on me for years, and I want to touch you like this-” he pressed her against the wall, his body flush against hers “-very often.”

Rogue’s head was spinning, and she was still trying to figure out if it was in a good way or not. Logan looked and smelled and felt and sounded fantastic, and all of the things that usually turned her off of most men––carelessness, stupidity, arrogance, naivete`, inability to cope with her strength of mind or the strength of her body, inability to keep up with her mind and her mood and her skill, inability to match her, ignorance of all of the above––were absent in Logan, and indeed he seemed to actively oppose everything on her list (sans arrogance, but most of that was just for show) and she knew him. And Hell, she’d loved him for years, and never even really groped him. She let her head fall back against the wall. “Wow. Have Ah been oblivious or what?” she mused. “Was Ah actually blind for long periods of time, or somethin’?”

Logan smirked a little, but it faded. “That’s not an answer.”

She looked at him more seriously, still very aware of how hard he was against her, how hot things were about to get. It was distracting, but mental discipline had become one of Rogue’s strong points over the years. “Ya think ya haven’t had the same damned hold on me, even though Ah was ridiculously ignorant of any romantic potentialities?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “When you practice restraint, your vocabulary gets bigger.”

“Blame Erik. Or possibly Hank, from that one mission a year back.” An odd look crossed her face. “Damn that one was awkward.” She focused on Logan again. “But seriously. Did ya think...”

The elevator dinged and the door opened. Neither of them moved.

“It’s hard to tell sometimes,” Logan murmured.

Rogue smirked. “Like it’s hard to tell when you’re yellin’ at me because you’re pissed off, or because you were worried sick?”

“Yeah.” He smiled a little.

“Whenever Ah yell at you like that, it’s always ‘cause ya scared the shit outta me with whatever shit you pulled,” she shook her head, but still smirked a bit. “Every damned time.”

Logan furrowed his brow, having trouble picturing Rogue scared. He had to draw on old memories, from more than a decade ago when he couldn’t leave her on the side of the road in the middle of BumfuckNowhere, Alberta. But the Rogue in front of him didn’t scare the way that one had, and she wouldn’t let it show, but it sure as Hell explained the apoplectic levels of anger she had directed at him in the past. He smirked a little. “Good to know.”

Rogue shook her head a little, and shot a significant look out into the hall before meeting Logan’s gaze again, dragging her teeth over her lower lip. “Hey, Logan?”

Distracted by her mouth, Logan replied with a faint, “Hm?”

Rogue’s fingers slid under the waist of his pants again, brushing against his erection and immediately catching Logan’s attention. “Keep up,” she purred. “No pun intended. The door’s open.”

Logan wanted to say that he knew that, but Rogue had wrapped her hand around him and squeezed a little as her fingers explored his length with blatant curiosity. His hands splayed across her ass and grabbed hold, pulling her closer and holding her to him as he moved them both out of the elevator, his footsteps shuffling and hasty as he got to the door.

Rogue’s free hand settled on the doorknob. “Logan?”

He looked into her eyes, not trusting himself to speak for the moment.

“You can have this. As often as humanly possible,” she purred, pressing herself closer to him, her nipples hardening against his chest when he growled. “And you’ve always had a hold on me.” She opened the door and they almost fell through it, but Logan caught himself shortly after kicking it shut behind them and pinning Rogue to it.

“You sure about that, Darlin’? ‘Cause you’re a little new to this...”

“I can keep up.”

Logan chuckled. “I should’ve known.”