Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Ah swear to God, Logan will be the death of me.”

And Marie dodged a bullet, then another, then another. Yanked the guard nearest her forwards with one gloved hand and elbowed him. Swung him around to face the shooter as he stumbled, dazed, and twined her arm around his throat to hold him in place in front of herself and Jubilee.

She heard another shot, the impact shattering the wall beside her and then a yelped- “What the fuck-?” as her assailant fell to the ground. Twitching from where he’d been tazered-

At which point Kitty Pryde shot by her, holding the shooter’s machine gun in one hand, a tiny grin on her face. “That’s as may be, Marie, but what a way to go!” she smirked, shooting Rogue a thumbs up, grabbing a hold of Jubilee then heading for the door, still smiling-

Marie fought the urge to roll her eyes then.

Must be nice to be able to walk through walls, she thought caustically as Kitty hustled the firecracker towards the exit. Gesturing to Rogue to follow her and darting through a wall, phasing their friend as she went. Because here Ah was just gonna wait around to be captured, she groused. Marie watched as if in slow motion as the guard who was shooting tried to get to his feet. Felt the weight of the man she was holding tumble out of her hands as she pushed him forward into the shooter and promptly made for the door. All around her red alert klaxons were blaring, the building going into lock-down as their presence became known. So much for making with the stealthy… She guesstimated they had about three minutes before escape became impossible and she was stuck in here for good. And if that happened they’d never get another chance to save Logan-

Because she seriously doubted Victor would be stupid enough to keep him here now that the base’s location had been compromised. The blond was not that dumb.

Which meant they would have to get Wolverine out asap. However, he hadn’t been where their source had said he was. In fact he hadn’t been anywhere they could find. Originally the plan had been to find Wolvie, drag his ass outta Dodge and then torch the place but if he was still somewhere in the building- And they had no idea where- then there was no way Marie would let anyone burn it to the ground. She’d risked too damn much to find Logan-

And she cared too damn much to let anyone else to put him at risk.

Even if she did seriously sometimes think that he’d be the death of her.

Which left her options kinda narrowed on the jailbreak front- And also meant that she’d be dodging bullets for most of the foreseeable future. Since bullets and Logan went together like pretzels and beer-

Well, shit, she thought then.

Marie made for the door, fast as she could go. Her’n the girls’d fall back, regroup, maybe send for some reinforcements. Since she who fights and runs away lives to save Wolverine’s ass another day. That decided she went for the exit, slipping and then sliding, hoping desperately that she’d get through the rapidly closing metal grille in time. She nearly managed it too, her momentum carrying her forward, the guards forgotten as she skidded to a halt in front of the exit-

Only to see it crash closed with a resounding CLANG.

Again, she thought, with the shit.

Within seconds she was on her feet, looking around, weighing her options. Wondering whether it was worth her while to pull off the gloves and try getting some information from one of the guards. She looked left, then right, indecisive, and as she did so she felt a small hand on her shoulder. Felt herself yanked backwards through the wall as Kitty phased her, pulling her to safety though not preventing her from landing on her butt. Marie blinked up at her friend, brown eyes widening, and then pulled herself to her feet, Jubilee gesturing for silence as they heard another security team thundering through the corridor to their right. The girls moved quietly forwards, silent as shadows- Just like Logan had taught them. Jubes in front since she was the one with the best defensive power- And since she was also the one who could blind their opponents with her paffs. Kitty was in the middle, near enough to touch and phase her friends if they needed it and Marie as always came at the rear, the best fighter hand-to-hand but the one with the least helpful mutation. At least if she didn’t wanna end up in a rubber room. They stalked through the building, retracing their steps as best they could, trying to avoid trouble-

But unfortunately for them, trouble was dead set on making their acquaintance tonight.

Because they rounded a corner, still in stealth mode, and found a door. An open door. The metal hinges having been completely totalled by something big, strong, and by the looks of things monumentally pissed off. Kitty darted forward to examine it, still phased, and then Marie heard a gasp as Jubes set off three blindingly bright yellow paffs, illuminating the dank corridor in which they were hiding- Though not giving enough light to make out more than a blur before the tiny X-Man was tossed aside like a rag doll and smacked into the wall. Kitty tried to phase out of reach but the same thing happened to her, her tiny frame smacking into the wall beside Marie with a teeth-rattling smack. Marie snarled and lurched forwards, trusting her instincts to react more quickly than her mind would, already steadying her stance for fighting-

And in that moment something big and mean and angry smacked into her. Something that looked almost like Logan-

Because the hazel eyes staring down at her were empty, devoid of anything save rage. Hands twisting her wrists tightly, painfully, her smaller body pinned beneath a skeleton weighed down with adamantium and more muscle than she’d put on in a year. Marie tried to move, tried to force herself upright but he- And it was Logan, she’d no doubt of that- wouldn’t let her. Wouldn’t even let her twitch. His teeth were bared and he was snarling at her, his weight driving the breath from her lungs. His anger coming off him in waves. Marie stared up at him, fear for the first time ever beginning to pool in her belly, willing him to remember her. Trying to talk to him though he’d driven the voice from her throat. For a beat everything was silent and still and then-

Then she heard it. Clapping. Coming from behind her.

“I think Jimmy boy there likes you, stripes,” Victor said.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Marie sighed tiredly and picked up the post.

It’d been an hour since she’d woken up and she still couldn’t seem to get her head clear. She’d hoped that a week off would make her feel better, but it turned out that working nights made her exhausted all the time, more than a week without work could fix. She couldn’t even sleep properly when she was on vacation and she had to go back tomorrow- Because if she didn’t she wouldn’t be able to make her portion of the rent, and that would mean another fight with- Well, it would mean another fight.

Sometimes it seemed her life had been easier when all she had to worry about was Bucket-head and his plans for world domination.

She sighed again then, rubbing at tired eyes, wondering what time it was. Man, she needed a vacation. Or another job. Or just a break from the routine of work, house-hunting and fighting with her boyfriend- Though something told her Callum wouldn’t be impressed with the idea that she wanted time apart. In fact, she was certain that Callum wouldn’t be impressed with the idea that she wanted time apart. And since they were coming up on their two year anniversary, and since he’d started making noises about getting married, she supposed she shouldn’t be thinking about being single. Again. No matter how attractive the idea was-

She tried to push the thought away.

This was the life she’d chosen, and she’d be happy about it. Even if it killed her.

The Wolverine in her head growled at the thought.

Marie sighed again then, sorting idly through the post. Ignoring the thing growling inside her head from years of practice. Trying not to summon the image of Logan which was never far from her mind. She tossed the junk mail in the trash and piled Callum’s mail (it was always Callum’s mail) onto the locker beside her while she waited for her coffee to kick in. She’d put aside two utility bills, a bank statement and a postcard from some woman in work who’d gone to Barbados and was just about to return to the kitchen when she noticed a smaller envelope sticking out from behind the postcard.

A smaller envelope which was addressed simply to Rogue.

Marie felt her heart lurch in her chest then. Nobody had called her by that name since- Since she left the Mansion. Since she had that final blow-out with Logan and walked out on his bossy, vexatious, deeply-in-denial ass, vowing never to return. That’d been two years ago so she couldn’t imagine why the X-Men would be contacting her now. Besides, Storm had her phone number in case she ever had to get in touch; Sending mysterious packages wasn’t the weather witch’s style. Which meant-

Her heart literally skipped a beat at the thought.

But she stopped that idea right there. She wouldn’t let herself believe that, not now. Not after two years. Not after she’d finally managed to get his hairy, growly, perfect self out of her system. Half the reason she’d chosen Callum was that he was the exact opposite to Logan, right down to his choice of work (he was a doctor) and his choice of lifestyle (he was a health nut). Marie eyed the envelope with sudden suspicion, hefting its weight in her hand and considering binning it. But she knew she couldn’t. Not if it was from him. Curiosity got the better of her and she ripped at the envelope open, her fingers cutting into the paper-

And a pair of battered dog tags fell out.

Well, holy shit, she thought then.

For a second she just stared at them, unable to believe what she was seeing. Unable to believe that he’d actually sent those to her. And they could only be from him. But there they were, glimmering in the evening light. Looking beat up and bloodied but unbowed- kinda like their owner. She looked in the envelope, hoping for a message but there was nothing. Just the tags. Oh, and the cluster-fuck of emotional baggage they were carrying in their wake. Marie stared at the little metal rectangles, willing her heart to calm down. Trying to make herself intelligent and adult and capable, trying to decide what she should do. Because she knew why he’d sent them. It’d been their system, anything ever happened to him and he had to go underground he’d get in touch, send her the tags. Let her know that he needed her help. They were part warning and part proof of life. They meant he needed her-

And it’d been so long since he’d needed her that she felt her heart give another, more painful lurch at the thought.

So she walked calmly to her bedroom. Felt under her bed and pulled out the pre-paid, unused cell-phone she’d taped there. Kept for just this purpose. Sent a text message to the only two numbers stored within its memory and waited to hear back.

The message was only one word: Houston.

Those who’d need to would understand what that meant.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Mrs. Rasputin,” the auctioneer muttered, “You appear to be beeping.”

Kitty blinked, surprised, and then pulled out her cell phone. Carefully put down the priceless Ming vase she was surveying and retired to a corner of the auction house’s stage. The entire crowd including Pyotr was staring at her, waiting for her to give her opinion as to the artefact’s authenticity, but she didn’t mind that. She’d gotten used to being stared at in her X-Man days. Besides, her cell was playing the opening bars to Rachmaninov’s piano concerto and there was only message recipient she used that ring tone for-

And that recipient was Marie.

If Rogue was calling something was well and truly wrong.

Kitty pulled out her phone then, took one look at its newest message and then nodded to herself. Went over and picked up her coat, handing her press pass back to the auctioneer and gesturing for Pyotr to follow her to the door. The auctioneer tried to stop her- “Mrs. Rasputin,” he snapped, “Where do you think you are going?”- but she ignored him. She’d give back her fee just as soon as she was on a plane-

But right now she had bigger things to worry about. Like the fate of her sensei.

And maybe the world.

“Do you mind telling me where we are going, maya meela?” Pyotr muttered then as they stepped into the elevator. She showed him the text message, saw his eyes widen when he read it. He understood the gravity of the situation now. It was one word- Houston. As in Houston, we have a problem. Marie’s idea of a joke.

“U nas yest problema,” he muttered. “We have big problem.”

“Da, mwoy meel,” Kitty muttered. “That’s why we’re going to Westchester.”

With that the elevator doors pinged shut.

“Chere,” Remy muttered, “Tell me you turn dat phone o’ yours off.”

And he turned around, face incredulous, to stare at Jubilee as she pulled out her I-Phone. Stared at the screen and read the message she’d just received. Below them his favourite Da Vinci (the Mona Lisa was so over-rated) was waiting, just waiting, to be stolen. To be liberated from the hordes of busy tourists and taken to a better place. A fee-paying, client-owned better place. He’d been working on this for months: They had an almost perfect copy tucked inside his staff and their escape route was already cleared. It would be their biggest haul yet, enough to set them up for life and make them legends-

But one look at his belle chere’s face and Remy knew that the painting wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Because Jubie was looking worried. And whenever Jubilation LeBeau looked worried then shit had a tendency to start going ka-boom-

“Sorry, sweetheart,” she muttered. “But we gotta go.”

And she shot the painting below her a tiny, regretful wave goodbye through the grated duct.

Jubes knew she should have felt sorrier- after all they’d been planning this heist for weeks- but her phone was playing Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water and she only used that ring-tone for one person. Marie. Which meant that the message she was opening now was from Roguey, and if that was the case-Well, Leonardo would just have to wait.

So she tapped the view-screen, opening the text. Reading it, nodding to herself and gesturing to Remy to fall back. She began crawling back through the air vents, all thoughts of the job driven from her head, already mentally calculating where they’d get false travel papers at this time of night- And how they’d advise Storm of their status without setting Interpol on their tail again. Since the last time that bitch Danvers had chased them for the better part of a year. Gambit followed her, swearing to himself in French but trusting her judgement…

And when she showed him the message, he booked the tickets back to the States himself.

U nas yest problema: We have a problem (Russian)

maya meela: My sweetness (feminine)

Da, mwoy meel: Yes, darling (masculine)

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Marie nodded silently to herself: The girls were on their way.

She placed the phone on top of her green satchel and hefted it onto her shoulder, already estimating how much money she had in her bank account and whether it would get her back to Westchester. She doubted it would. She might have to get in touch with Warren, ask if he could lend her some cash- Or maybe a plane. She could still fly one, she’d been top of her class… Marie pulled out her phone, wondering whether she had Angel’s number, all her attention so focussed on the task at hand that she didn’t even notice Callum walk in through the front door. She only realised he was there when she heard him put his briefcase down. Cross his arms. His look was long-suffering.

Your boyfriend looks like a little fucking teapot, the Wolverine in her head muttered.

She pushed the thought away.

“Seriously, Marie?” Callum was muttering in a tone like the parent of a particularly badly-behaved toddler. The Wolverine in her head was growling. Loudly. “We’re going through this again?”

If you hit him on the noggin darlin’, her inner Logan rumbled, I’ll tell you how to hide the body. The cops’ll never even know…

Marie sighed. She supposed she shouldn’t get pissed off: Callum was the kinda man who had been middle-aged since he hit puberty. She told herself that she liked that about him. He was steady. Dependable. Unable to ride a motorcycle and not known to the local police. In fact, aside from Scott (Lord rest him) he was just about the closest she could find to the Anti-Wolveri-

And again she pushed the thought away. Her inner Logan was snickering.

Laugh it up hairball, she told him. Callum’s still the one Ah come home to at night.

Immediately the laughing stopped.

But her boyfriend was still talking. “Marie, you promised me!” he was saying tightly, fingers at the bridge of his nose. And again, she thought, with the long-suffering. “You swore there’d be no more of this superhero nonsense. You’re- we’re- grownups! Spandex is not part of our life.” He gestured incredulously to her bag, the same green satchel she’d carried into and out of the Mansion all those years ago. The same one she’d had over her shoulder when they moved in together eighteen months before. She’d never been able to bring herself to get rid of it and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out why… “We have responsibilities, Marie,” he was saying. “We have a life here…”

Let me gut ‘im, darlin’, the Wolverine in her head growled then. I promise I’ll make it quick- Or slow, you want I can make it slow-

And again with the pushing the thought away.

Marie sighed again then. She didn’t want to lose Callum: She’d worked too damn hard to get to this nice, safe, normal place they inhabited together. And he was what she wanted; She’d grown up, she was done chasing after men she couldn’t have. Men who broke her heart. If she let Callum dig his heels in she’d be there all day arguing, and she didn’t know how much time Logan might have. And she wasn’t willing to dump her boyfriend just for her former mentor’s sake-

Which meant she’d have to take him to the Mansion with her, like it or not.

Well shit.

She’d just have to get him there and then slip away. Leave the kids entertaining him since Bobby Drake owed her a loooot of favours from his days dating John Allerdyce and it was now time to pay up. For a moment she wondered what Logan would make of their relationship but instantly she stopped the thought in its tracks. Soon as Logan was safely back to the Mansion she and Callum would be outta there. She couldn’t bear the thought of her former- of her Wolverine knowing who she shared her bed with these days. He’d know why she was in this stupid relationship, and she could just imagine his smug, shit-eating grin. Her pride wouldn’t be able to bear it- And she’d sworn when she left the Mansion that she’d never let him take her pride again.

Besides, she was a grownup now. And she was with the man she… loved.

That’s your story and you’re stickin’ to it, her inner Wolverine grinned.

So she set her shoulders. Pulled an excuse out of her ass and gave him what he wanted: a reason why she was returning to Westchester that included him. “Ah’m not running away,” she told him. “Ah just thought Ah- we- should head back home for a while. See mah folks. It’s been nearly two years, and Ah ain’t seen anyone. They should get to know you.” A beat. “It was supposed t’be a surprise.”

And she shot him her most trustworthy smile.

Callum blinked suspiciously but Marie knew her smile was dazzling. He just had to think this was about him: So long as he thought that he’d play along. Eventually he smiled, relieved, chucking her nose and making her feel about three years old. Agreeing to go and guilt-tripping her into packing his stuff. Marie shot him a small smile, ignoring her inner Wolverine’s catalogue of ways to cause his death and trying to suppress a thrill of excitement at the idea of going back to the Mansion. It’d been so long since she’d thought about her old life but now it seemed like she was back to saving the world- Or at least the Logan-shaped portion of it- and the idea sent a traitorous thrill up her spine. One way or another, Wolverine had called for her and she’d be damned if she didn’t reply: He needed her.

But this time it would be different. This time she’d keep her heart to herself.

She didn’t look at Callum for the whole of the ride to Westchester.

It didn’t occur to him to wonder why she was wearing a pair of dog tags around her neck.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Just tell me where she is, Jimmy.”

And Victor tightened the cuffs another quarter of an inch. Forcing the adamantium spikes embedded in Logan’s wrists even more tightly into his skin, into his bones. Dosing him with more anaesthesia, since he’d ripped one of his hands open at the wrist to get out when they hadn’t, and they didn‘t want him to get loose again. Logan snarled, telling himself to ignore the agony in his hands. Trying not to let his vision cloud over, black spots dancing inside his eyes. It was the problem with being tortured by family: They knew you. Knew how to push every fucking button because they’d installed them all. Victor grinned at him, goading him, daring him to struggle. Knowing that if he did the pain and blood loss would get worse. That maybe he’d pass out. It was typical Victor, nothing new in it. Logan knew he could deal with it-

Because if he didn’t then his former brother would find out where Marie was. And there was no fucking way on Earth that Logan would permit that.

“Enjoying yourself there, Victor?” he muttered then. Forcing his head upright, despite how heavy it felt. Sweat was dripping into his eyes, coppery blood in his mouth. He felt like Hell.

“Course I am, runt,” Creed muttered. “Been dreaming about this fer quite some time.” And he tightened the cuffs again. Grinning. Yanking the adamantium chains upwards to that Logan was forced even further towards the wall-

Goddammit! Logan drew blood, he bit his lip so hard. Fuck, but that shit hurt.

“You always dream o’ tying me up?” he asked then, breathlessly. Trying to ignore the worsening pain in his arms, his shoulders- Which he suspected were separating. “Kinky.”

“You’re the one with a thing fer jailbait, Jimmy,” the feral retorted. “Kinky ain’t a word you should be throwing around. Not with that hot little parasite o’ yours out there all alone, just itching t’make my acquaintance-”

Logan couldn’t help himself: He head-butted the bastard then.

Willingly ignoring the pain in his cranium and his shoulders if it meant that he shut the sonofabitch up. On some level he knew losing his temper like that was childish, but the mere thought o’ Victor laying hands on Marie was enough to make his blood boil-

No matter what had happened between them in the past.

Victor laughed then. “That girl must be one helluva lay, t’get you all hot an’ bothered.” He reached out, rubbing his jaw. Noting the small dribble of blood that was running down it and wiping it away with one nail. “You reckon if she fucked you she’ll have a problem with doin’ me? The genuine article, so t’speak?” And his grin turned malicious. “Not that consent will be a problem, you understand-”

“You fucking lay one hand on her and I’ll kill you, y’hear me?” Logan roared.

Victor put his face in his. “I know you’ll fucking try. Runt.”

Logan began pulling at his bindings then. Rage, fear and adrenaline lending him strength. Fer the first time in a long time nearly getting loose. ‘Tooth took a step back, his eyes glinting with malicious delight but still standing well fucking clear. There was no way he’d let Victor have Marie. He’d been able to smell the way Victor felt about her that first time he’d met her, back when she was only a kid: It was one of the reasons he’d been so vicious to the bastard on Liberty Island. He’d known what would happen if he didn’t put him down. Logan tensed, gathering his strength and pulling harder at the chains. Keeping the image of Marie in his mind, behind his eyes, since it seemed to give him so much strength. He could hear Victor laughing harder but he didn’t care none. He got loose and the giggling would settle awful fucking quick. The wall behind him gave even more, the smell of ruptured plaster in his nose and he knew it would take only a moment’s more struggle to get out, to get free of his shackles-

But that moment never came.

Because suddenly something cold and hard, something that felt almost familiar, punctured his neck. Slitting the artery and making him bleed out. Logan tried to gasp, his voice taken from him in agony as he felt bone and muscle dig further into his skin. Victor was laughing, staring at him, waving goodbye to him as he slid forward- But it wasn’t his nails that were hurting him. Sabretooth’s claws couldn’t dig this deep. Fer a second Logan thought he saw something, some dark figure standing beside Victor but then the blood loss got to him. Unconsciousness calling him like a welcoming friend. There was only one thought to process before darkness took him-

Does it hurt? Marie’s voice whispered. Does it hurt when they come out?

Then there was only blackness.

He didn’t even see who’d slit his throat.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Marie realised that bringing Callum was a bad idea (okay, she admitted that bringing Callum was a bad idea) about two seconds after they pulled up to the house.

Her reason could be summed up in two words: Remy LeBeau.

Because Gambit was waiting for them on the front steps, wearing his biggest grin and his biggest belt buckle. Looking dishevelled and handsome and devil-may-care. Needless to say it was not a combination which endeared him to the average boyfriend, as he well fucking knew-

And if he didn’t, the look on Callum’s face should sure as Hell have clued him in.

Remy clearly didn’t care none though. Marie fought the urge to roll her eyes: Soon as they pulled up to the Mansion in Callum’s rented Honda Civic (he’d scoffed at her offer of calling Warren and asking for a lend of the Porsche XL) Marie had felt her boyfriend clench up. And Remy’s sex-on-a-stick grin was making it worse. There wasn’t a man alive didn’t get his boxers in a twist the first time they met Gambit: From his I’m-picturing-your-girlfriend-naked-(and-she-likes-it) grin to the have-a-nun’s-panties-off-in-a-second accent, Remy was, as Jubie used to put it, the Perfect Bomb. He was the man your Momma warned you about, and he knew it. Even Logan hadn’t been too fond of him in the beginning: He’d had to save Jubilee from fifteen Sentinels and a Friends of Humanity militia group before the Wolverine could be persuaded to rethink his opinion of the Cajun-

And by the looks of things Callum was having the exact same reaction, just a little less impressively. Which made the Wolverine in her head snicker a bit.

Callum crossed his arms over his chest then, obviously trying for intimidating- But coming up woefully short. Even Bobby did butch better than that, Marie mused, and that was saying something. Gambit’s grin grew wider- smugger- when he saw Callum’s reaction and not for the first time in their acquaintance Marie fought the urge to smack him. She glared at him, wearing her best Seriously, dude? face, daring him to say anything.

His smile grew wider still.

“It’s good t’see you again, petite,” he drawled then, holding out his arms to her. Marie didn’t really feel like hugging the sonofabitch, but she’d always liked Gambit, and he was practically family. So she put her arms around her neck, pulling him close despite Callum’s rolled eyes and “humph!” And hugging him. She gestured to the other man and Remy politely held his hand out.

“You must be de boyfriend,” the Cajun drawled, “Hein?”

The man didn’t take his hand, and she felt a surge of embarrassment that he would be so childish. Imagine if it were Logan he were meeting, she thought, and instantly pushed the thought away. There was no way that would come off without a body-count. “Callum Montgomery,” she said instead, trying to be diplomatic, “Meet Remy LeBeau-”

His tone was the prissier side of sarcastic. “That’s actually his name?”

Marie winced, and once again she heard the sound of Logan’s snickering in her head.

Remy took pity on her. “Oui, dat’s mah name,” he said with forced politeness. “Remy LeBeau, gentleman thief and husband o’ Miss Jubilation Lee.” Again he held out his hand, his wedding band flashing in the light. “Mah wife was detained, she talking t’Storm,” he explained, more to Marie than Callum, “But she be along shortly.” He shot Marie another smile. “She an’ your girl here practically sisters, she looking forward to meeting you.”

And he shot Marie a pointed look, since they both knew that Ju-Ju Bean would definitely have an opinion on this and nobody would get away without hearing it.

You know the offer to help with his murder is still open, the Wolverine in her head growled. You just gotta ask me-

And for what felt like the thousandth time that day Marie pushed the thought away.

Gambit smiled and turned back into the house then, gesturing for Callum to follow him. Putting his hand on the small of Marie’s back just for devilment and earning another “humph,” from her boyfriend. She shook her head though she didn’t throw him off: She knew Gambit too well to play into his hands and react. Instead she accidentally stood on his foot, earning a hiss of pain and then a snicker. Callum glared, looking put-out, not even cracking a smile and once again her inner Logan repeated his offer to help arrange his death. Had Callum always been so humourless? She wondered- And then pushed away her inner Logan’s resounding response of Yes! Her boyfriend stomped into the house more like an invading force than a guest, shooting vicious looks all around. A couple of the smaller kids scattered at his entrance, but a tiny reptilian-looking boy stuck his tongue out and kicked him in the shin- Then teleported away. Callum looked horrified.

Home sweet home, Marie thought then.

Remy stifled a snort of laughter, and once again it struck her humourless her boyfriend was. What else did he expect in a house full of under-age mutants? And it wasn’t as if the boy had even broken skin. Marie shook her head to herself, trailing the two men into the Mansion, and as she did so she was assailed by a host of memories- Most of them good. Her, Jubes and Kitty laughing in their Prom dresses. Her’n Bobby thumb-wrestling, the first guy who’d ever convinced her that lethal, life-sucking skin or no she was still loveable. Logan watching her, smiling lazily, arms crossed across his massive chest, something in his expression she hadn’t a word for-

And instantly she pushed that memory aside. Viciously.

She wouldn’t remember that, she wouldn’t.

Not after what he’d done to her.

She was so intent on repressing that she didn’t even notice Jubes standing in front of her until chica cleared her throat, little stick-like arms crossed haughtily. Her face like a thunder-clap, just rearing to go. She shot Remy a dazzling smile, kissing him lightly, and then focussed her most kick-ass gaze on Marie. It made Callum skitter backwards just on general principles but she barely spared him a look.

“Hey, Jubie,” Marie muttered. “You’re looking good.”

The compliment didn’t deflect her.

“Thanks, Roguey,” Jubilee retorted dryly. “I knew that. Now do you mind telling what the fuck is going on?”

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Let’s you an’ me take a walk, homme,” Remy muttered quietly then.

Laying a hand on Callum’s shoulder and trying to lead him away. Jubie had to hand it to her man, he was smooth. “How’s about Ah walk you to your room while de ladies talk shop-”

But the douche-bag wasn’t listening. He even shot her honey a look shoulda gotten him paffinated on general principles. Marie winced, clearly uncomfortable, but she didn’t put the asshole back in his box- Which just pissed Jubilee off more. “Look, Pepe Le Peu,” Callum was snapping, “I’m going nowhere, not without Marie. Besides-” He straightened his jacket with a snap, making a grab for Rogue’s elbow. “She has no secrets from me.”

I seriously doubt that, Jubilee thought. And what’s with the grabby hands, asshole? Don’t you know who your girlfriend is? But Marie said nothing, just looked more embarrassed. Jubes felt a twitch of unease: The Rogue she knew woulda been making with the property damage by now. “Well this is family business,” she drawled, “so you’re gonna have to take a walk. Capisce?” And she let a couple of hers paffs dance around her fingertips, just to show she wasn’t kidding.

“Jubie…” Marie began. She tried to shoot her a smile. “Let’s not do this.”

Jubes narrowed her eyes. “No,” she snapped, “Lets. You really feel like explaining this to a non-com, Roguey?” And she looked pointedly at the boyfriend.

“I don’t like your tone, missy,” Callum muttered, making to take a step closer. Remy immediately tensed up, getting in his way. Jubie had always dug the protective vibe.

“You no talk t’mah wife dat way, homme,” Gambit muttered. “Even if Marie lets you talk dat way t’her.” And he pulled out a card, making it float a couple of inches above his fingers, eyes glowing just red enough to make the asshole pause. Jubes grinned, Marie winced- But Callum backed the fuck away. Let Marie go.

Rogue pulled him aside then, whispering something in his ear, her manner appeasing. One hand on his chest, the other on his arm. There was nothing of the spitfire Rogue Jubilee remembered in those gestures, and again she felt a twinge of unease, for the first time noticing her friend’s thinner build, the dark circles under her eyes. Chica didn’t look great- No, chica didn’t look happy. But then if Jubie had been going out with that dick she wouldn’t have been happy either. A moment passed and then Marie came back to her, Callum stomping off in the general direction of the kitchen, still muttering under his breath. She shot Remy an apologetic look. “Sorry ‘bout that, shuggs,” she said. “He’s cranky from the journey-”

“And the being an asshole,” Jubes griped. Marie looked pained but she didn’t correct her none. “Kitty here yet?” she asked instead.

“Yup. In Storm’s office. So you wanna..?” And she gestured towards the large oak door at the end of the hall. Gambit shot her his best rakish grin, giving Rogue a small wave goodbye. Mouthing Be nice at his wife before wandering off. The two women trudged in silence to Storm’s office, Marie’s eyes floor-wards, her posture more slumped than Jubilee had ever seen her. Again, she thought how little there was in the woman before her of the girl she’d known.

Again she felt a twinge of worry at the thought.

They found Kitty reading a book when they entered. She blinked up at Rogue through her bangs, her eyes lighting up at the sight of their friend and hugging her. Her arms went around Jubes too after a second and despite herself Jubilee’s bad mood melted a little.

“How ya doing, Marie?” Kitty asked warmly.

Rogue shrugged, looked awkward. “Okay,” she mumbled. Just ok. “But that’s not why Ah’m here.” And she reached under her shirt, pulling out something from around her neck. She wouldn’t meet Jubilee’s eyes as she did it, just placed the object quietly on the table. “Ah got this yesterday in the mail,” she explained quietly, her lilting accent restrained. Worried. “There was no message with it, but we all know what it means.”

“He sent them to you?” Pryde breathed, touching the tags gingerly. In the early days when he’d been training them, Logan had set up a system in case he was ever compromised: He’d send his tags to Rogue, along with a clue as to his whereabouts and the girls would come get him. He’d said he’d only trust them to bring his ass home. At the time Jubes had figured it was a trust-building exercise, that he’d been trying to build team moral; after all Logan was an excellent commanding officer in the field, despite what he liked to pretend around the Mansion. She’d never really thought the system would be put to use. But then in those days she’d never thought that anything could hurt Logan either. He’d been like a force of nature, the unstoppable Wolverine. That’d been before she watched him lose Rogue and saw what it did to him. Before the fights and the disappearing for days and the weird-shit, broken hearted behaviour-

A beat.

Jubes sighed then. The team (such as it was) had been given a mission and she for one was going to make sure they pulled it off. Marie might have run out on them after the Cure, but she wouldn’t abandon Logan- And she knew Kitty felt the same. “You got any idea where to start looking for him, chica?” she asked, leaning over the table, already planning.

Marie shook her head. “No. There was no message with the tags, no clue. Ah was gonna ask Storm what he was working on, see if Ah could get access to his place-”

“I’ll do that, Rogue,” Kitty muttered hurriedly, speaking over her. Shooting Jubes a warning look. They both knew there was a lot of stuff in Logan’s room he wouldn’t want Marie knowing about: photos, mementoes. Jubes even knew that he still had a pair of her gloves somewhere in his closet, left over from before their last fight in the Mansion. He kept things of hers, of theirs. And he wouldn’t want Marie to see. If the Southern belle noticed anything was amiss she didn’t say it though, just nodded numbly.

“Ah suppose you should do it,” she was saying, “You’re closer to him anyway.”

I wouldn’t necessarily say that, Jubes thought then.

But she didn’t say anything, just nodded. Smiling briskly and standing. “Kitty can check out the Wolverine Cave,” she was saying. “We’ll ask Hank what’s the low-down on any side projects Wolvie was working, of all the guys in the Mansion the Hankster’s the most likely to know. Besides, he’s dying to see ya.” And she shot Marie her most innocent, least believable smile, gesturing towards the door. “Ladies first, right?” she muttered, “Before all Beast’s Twinkies are gone.” Rogue nodded numbly, not even looking up. Tucking the tags back under her shirt like they were a magic charm. Her eyes were distant, tired. Worried. Not the eyes of the spitfire Rogue at all. Once again Jubilee wondered what had happened to the woman she knew- Because Wolvie wouldn’t recognise the girl before her now.

But then maybe he wasn’t the only one suffering from a broken heart.

Rogue didn’t look up as they left.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“How positively wonderful to see you again, my dear,” Hank said warmly. “Just give me a moment.” And he swung down from his perch on the ceiling, holding out his giant, furry paw to Marie and beaming. She gave the doctor her brightest smile: she’d always loved Hank, he was one of the people she’d been most looking forward to seeing in the Mansion.

“Yo Hankster,” Jubie muttered dryly then, “What a I, chopped liver?” But she grinned to take the sting out of her words.

“You are, as ever Jubilation, a revelation,” McCoy said courteously.

She gave a tiny bop of her head. “Damn straight. You got a minute?”

“For two such beautiful women, always.”

Jubie wrinkled her nose. “You been spending time with my hubbie again, haven’t ya?”

His expression became mischievous. “I assure you, Mrs. LeBeau, my charm is all my own.” And he gestured to a couple of the chairs in his lab. Marie took one but Jubie perched on his desk. Reached inside and pulled out a Twinkie without even asking his permission. Beast rolled his eyes.

“Ok,” she began, “I could build up to this slowly but there’s no point, so you get the Cliff’s notes version. Wolvie’s missing, he wants us to find him and we have to know what he was up to before he left the Mansion.” Beast’s eyebrows shot upwards. “I know you normally keep his secrets for him, and you know I wouldn’t normally ask, but this time I gotta.” She nodded towards Marie. “Show him, chica.”

Marie didn’t like taking off the tags, in fact every time she did she felt a slightly superstitious thrill of dread, but she did as she was asked. Pulled them out from her shirt and placed them carefully in Hank’s hand. The man’s eyebrows went so high this time that they looked like they were threatening to migrate to his scalp.

“My word,” he muttered. “These are-”

“Yup,” Marie nodded, “they’re the real deal. Ah’d recognise them anywhere.” You don’t sleep wearing something for most of your teen years and not get to know it inside out.

Hank’s expression grew troubled. “Then he is in serious jeopardy, which for Wolverine is saying something.” He walked over to his computer, began pulling up files. “We had been working on a few projects, but when he left the Mansion he was looking into this one.” He gestured to the screen, showing the women a diagram of connected lines and numbers which Marie recognised vaguely from her Biology class with Jeannie, back in the day. “These are DNA strands,” Hank muttered. “They’re related to Logan’s, but not his- Which is a mystery in itself. We’re not sure whether they were planted on purpose in order to frame Logan or draw him in- Or left behind by accident. Tony Stark got in touch with us when his internal investigation turned them up at a warehouse heist in Jersey.”

Marie frowned. “Stark? The weapons’ manufacturer?”

“The same.”

Jubes was suspicious. “Why’d Stark come to you and not the authorities?”

“We’ve had dealings in the past,” Hank said vaguely. Jubie narrowed her eyes: She knew a brush off when she heard one. “Besides,” McCoy rushed on, “Stark is married to a mutant. You might know her, Emma Frost? The telepath?” Jubilee nodded. “He was afraid that if he went to the police with this it would be used as a political football to garner support for mutant registration. And he’s probably right.”

“So he asked the X-Men to look into it on the QT?” Jubes guessed.

“Yes.” Hank sighed, standing, placing his hands behind his back. “Stark has many, many faults, but he’s tussled quite publicly with Senator Osbourne over the issue of Mutant Registration already and he’s the only business leader thus far to stand up to him. Which makes him a friend, in a roundabout way.” Though Beast didn’t look convinced.

Marie could understand the team’s thinking however: Senator Norman Osbourne had recently started making noise about bringing the X-Men under government control, had even tried to subpoena Storm to Washington to kick the process off. All in the name of turning the team into Uncle Sam’s own not-so-private blunt little instrument. None of the X-Men had been willing to play ball: ’Ro had threatened to disband the team first, which had shut the bastard up for now. But Marie knew that Osbourne probably wouldn’t be dissuaded that easily-Which meant that all Storm may have bought them was time.

And that being the case, the support of a man like Stark was worth a little cloak and dagger. Even if he was a pain in the ass.

Jubie’s gaze was speculative though. “So Wolvie set off to check out this heist?” she guessed. Nodding to Marie, showing they were on the same wave-length.

“Yes, he went to see Stark in New York. That was more than a week ago, but then his disappearing act is hardly new.” Hank walked back into his private office and came out with a building pass. “Stark sent me this when he first asked us to become involved,” Beast muttered. “Logan used his, I didn’t. Take it to the Stark Building and demand to see him- He’ll know I sent you.”

Jubes took it, tucking it into her jeans. She and Marie made to go. “Will do, Hankster. Thanks.”

Beast’s gaze was far away. His attention clearly focussed somewhere else. “Oh, and Jubilee? Marie?” The two women nodded. “If you can’t get Tony, ask to speak to Emma. Tell her… Tell her Henry sent you, and give her my regards.” He said the last part to his feet and Marie couldn’t shake the sudden feeling that whatever Beast wanted to give Mrs. Stark it wasn’t his regards- But she kept it to herself.

“Of course, Hank,” Jubes muttered. “Will do.” And then they were out of the door.

The other woman pulled her to a stop in the corridor outside before the door had even swung shut. “Marie,” she began tightly, “I know this goes without saying, but if we’re going on the road Callum can’t come with us.”

Rogue looked at her friend like she was crazy. “Ah know that, Jubes. He’d get himself killed.”

“Good, I just wanted to-”

Suddenly Marie felt annoyance rush through her, and for a moment she felt sixteen again. Who did Jubilee think she was dealing with, an amateur? “Ah know what ya thought, Jubes,” she snapped. “You made it real clear what ya think of him. But he’s not coming along so you’n Kitty needn’t worry. Now you wanna go sort out weaponry and Ah’ll sort out transportation? Or do you wanna spend time dicking around while someone flash-fries our XO?” And she crossed her arms, cocking an eyebrow. Her temper gaining the upper hand for the first time in a long time.

Something moved across Jubie’s face then, something too quick to register, and she narrowed her eyes. “Sir, no Sir!” she snapped, flipping Marie a mock salute before walking away. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, a strange smile on her face.

“It was nice to have you back, Marie,” she said. “For a minute I thought that dick-wad had removed your spinal column completely.” And with that she was gone, leaving Marie swearing in just about every language she knew- Which was a whole lotta cussing out, and then some.

She just couldn’t figure out why she was grinning while she did it.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Marie was pulling his shirt off.

Whispering soft, sweet gentle things in that sexy Southern drawl o’ hers, asking him to make love to her just like he used to. Calling him shugah and darlin’, telling him she loved him so. Logan hadn’t the heart to tell her that given the physical state he was in sex just wasn’t a possibility right now- It felt too fucking good, the sensation of her against him. Her breath like a prayer, her wet lips on his. Two whole years he’d been without her, two years he’d been dreaming of this and now- She was here. Her skin, her touch, her scent, he’d have known it anywhere, it felt wonderful-

Except for the voice that was tugging at his mind.

Telling him to breath in more deeply, to test that scent…. Was it Marie? The Wolverine within him was asking. Was it really our girl..? He buried his nose in her throat, sniffing, teeth scraping against her skin even as she moaned loudly and suddenly he had his answer-

“Sonofabitch!” he snarled.

“Wrong gender, baby,” Mystique muttered then. Letting her eyes turn yellow but otherwise retaining Rogue’s shape. Trying to kiss him again, snickering when he turned his head away. Her hand travelled roughly down his chest, the nails clawing as she cupped his hardening cock in her hand and dug them in viciously.

“Aw, look,” she cooed, “You do like me.”

She licked her lips. Logan head-butted her.

Judging by the look on her face you’d think he’d kissed her instead.

Mystique shifted her form completely back to Marie’s then. But it was Marie the way she’d looked on Liberty Island, bruised and bloody and pale. A Marie at death’s door. “Why’d you hurt me shuggs?” she asked him in Marie’s best little girl lost voice. “Why didn’t you save me from them?” She manipulated her appearance once more, Marie’s face turning bruised and swollen. A leer his darlin’ girl woulda never worn splitting her face-

“Fuck you,” he snarled.

“Only if you say pretty please.” And she let her hair flash red for a second, though she still wore Rogue’s face. Her eyes glowing red like a phoenix. “Would this help?” She pouted. “Or is the performance anxiety just because you’re an older man?”

“No, it’s cos you’re an evil bitch.”

“Aw, don’t be that way. I thought you liked it rough, Jim.” Her smile widened. “Besides, I brought you a present.” Mystique reached onto the floor behind her and held in a tiny spike, about the length and width of an ear-phone jack but much sharper. It glittered wickedly in the light. “This is what’s going to get you to betray that little fucking parasite of yours,” she told him conversationally.

Logan cocked his most cynical eyebrow. “Really?”

“Oh yeah, baby. Really.” She leaned forward, trailing kisses down his cheek. Those bitch-sharp nails raking his chest. He hissed in pain and she kissed him harder, her features transforming into Rogue’s again. But this time she was healthy, adult- The Rogue he remembered from before she left the Mansion. Despite his best efforts his body responded to the visual stimulus, and he fought back a wave of disgust. “The cuffs are dosing you with anaesthesia,” Mystique was murmuring into his ear. “When the spikes dig into your body-” she raked her nails against his forearms- “They pump a mixture of hallucinogens and muscle relaxants into your blood-stream-”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

She grinned wickedly. “Unfortunately however, that damn mutation of yours is fighting them off.” Her hands curled up into his hair, scraping at his scalp as she moaned. Logan wondered if this was how a Rampant Rabbit felt when it got put to use. “If we just switch off that damn healing factor though,” she continued, licking at his throat, “we can fill you up to the brim with every fucking narcotic known to man, and there’ll be jack shit you can do about it.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “Which is exactly what we’re gonna do.”

And quick as lightning she slammed the adamantium spike into his neck at the nape, ramming it into the bone. Digging it in extra hard as he snarled.

Fuck!

Blackness flashed before his eyes then as he felt an electrical charge tear through his body. Every muscle and sinew twitching uncontrollably as the device took hold. He thought there’d be more pain, but there wasn’t: Instead for the first time since Marie had drained him at the age of sixteen he felt woozy. Sick. Like he had a cold or something-

Which was impossible fer a man with a mutation like his.

He hoped.

Mystique grinned then. “I’ll just leave that to settle,” she murmured. “I know men don’t normally like bling but that works for you, it really does. Besides, I have a matinee performance.” And her eyes flashed blue, hair turning blond. Skin fading until it was pale as a snowflake, her clothes pristinely white. She stood. “I’ll be back in a little while, lover. And then we’ll see how friendly you get without that sense of smell to guide you-

Shuggs.”

And with that she was gone.

Leaving Logan feeling helpless for the first time in a long time. Leaving him afraid of what he might do to the woman he loved without even knowing it. Leaving him praying Marie really hated his guts as much as he thought she did- Because then at least she was probably still safe from Vic and the Blue Bitch.

Because Christ knew, she was no longer safe from him…

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Are you Batman?”

And Jubilee popped her gum, arms crossed, eyes lit up mischievously. Gestured to the large, metal suit of high-tech armour Tony Stark was working on and whistled appreciatively. They’d been in his cavernous R and D Lab all of three minutes and already she was insulting him- Even for Jubilee that was something of a record.

Didn’t like to admit it, but Kitty loved to watch chica work.

Stark shot the firecracker a charmingly cheeky smile then. “I’m more of a Wonder Woman kind of a dude,” he told her. “Bet you didn’t guess that about me.”

“It’s the hot-pants, isn’t it?” Jubie snorted. “Or is it the lasso?” Marie and Kitty both grinned. “But believe it or not your Amazon fetish isn’t why we’re here.”

He actually pouted. “That’s not what a man wants to hear from three hot women who wear spandex as work gear.”

“We don’t always get what we want, Mr. Stark.”

“Attitude like that, Miss Lee, you never will do-” And he tried to slap her ass.

The paff went off right in his face, nearly blinding him. Making him stagger back towards his suit of armour distractedly and smash into it before he righted himself. A pretty red-haired woman in the office behind him guffawed with laughter when she saw it, and Kitty decided she liked her. A lot.

“Ooh,” Stark muttered. “Feisty.” It was slightly worrying, but the attempt to blind him seemed to have turned him on more.

“Ooh,” Jubie retorted, “Dick-head. But I’m married and not to you, so let’s move on.”

“Don’t you mean get it on?” he inquired innocently. Marie rolled her eyes- they didn’t have time for this- and made to remove one of her gloves. Immediately he backed away, apparently familiar already with her mutation: Rogue didn’t know it, but back in the day she’d been christened Mean-Streak by the Brotherhood.

It was a nickname Kitty knew she’d well deserved.

A beat.

Stark shot her a little smile then. “Well, since you put it that way,” he muttered. “Why are you three charming ladies are here? Besides the desire to see me in rubber?”

“We’re looking for our sensei,” Kitty said hurriedly, before Marie could use two fingers to show him her opinion of seeing him all Bruce Wayned up. “You may know him, the X-Man Wolverine? He was looking into a robbery in one of your warehouses and we have reason to believe he’s in trouble.” She gestured to Jubie and she pulled out Hank’s security pass. Handed it to him. “Doctor McCoy indicated that he’d met with you shortly before he went missing. He sent us.”

She wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been looking for it, but Stark tensed up ever so slightly. His charming smile didn’t waver but Kitty felt the shift in his mood. Suddenly, he was edgy- Not that he showed it. Much. Boy genius had quite the game face.

Intriguing, Kitty thought then.

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen Logan since he left my office,” Stark was drawling. Marie’s eyes widened a tiny bit: she was surprised the billionaire knew Wolverine’s civilian name though she shouldn’t have been. A man like Tony Stark would have wanted to know everything about someone like Logan before he asked for his help. That was just good business, Kitty knew. “I sent him to talk to a former associate of mine,” Stark was saying, “a man named Forge. No surname, just Forge. Like Madonna. Or Kadjagoogoo. He lives in a survivalist compound outside Las Vegas-”

“And you two have history?”

His expression turned mock-sorrowful. “Me and him, it was a nasty break-up. We drifted apart. I blame myself: I chased other engineers. I got the house and the car and all poor Forgie got was the clothes on his back and stretch marks- He was bitter.”

“Bitter enough to rob you?” Jubes demanded.

“There isn’t a man alive who isn’t bitter enough to rob me,” Stark grinned. “But able to, that’s another question. Forge knew my system inside out, he could have circumvented it. He had motive, opportunity- It probably was him. Though how he managed to get something that looks like Logan’s DNA into the building is another question.” His expression turned angelic. “That’s what that hairy Canadian wanted to know.”

Marie cocked an eyebrow. “You have an address for this asshole?” she demanded.

“And what makes you think he’ll talk to you?”

“They’re called boobs,” she dead-panned. “Find me a man won’t open his door to three women wearing leather,” she continued at Stark’s cynical look, “And Ah’ll find you a kitten that yodels.”

“I would pay to see that kitten. But what if Forge is gay?”

“Ah’ll be sure and check for ya.” Marie’s smile was somehow both saccharine and wolf-like. “Now where’s that address?”

He went to his computer, began pulling a file up then. Sending it to print. Kitty was surprised that he didn’t know it off by heart. “I like that you’re butch,” he told Rogue.

“One of us should be.”

“You wound me, Marie-”

He really shouldn’t have said that.

She was in his face in a moment, one lethal, bare hand an inch from his skin. What Kitty suspected was the stress of the last few days finally coming out to play. Nobody used her given name unless she gave permission, it was a thing she and Logan shared. “Only family calls me that,” Rogue ground out. “We clear?” She’d pinned him back against his desk, one knee edging towards his groin, his balance totally shot. The speed was impressive for someone who hadn’t been an X-Man in two years. “And if Ah find out that you’re keeping anything from us, or that you had anything t’do with mah Logan going missing then Ah will personally come back here and do mah best impression of a berserker Wolverine, you got that? Shuggah?”

And with that she all but tossed him across the room.

He landed painfully before his desk.

Something moved in Stark’s face then, something almost… dangerous. Not I’ve-a-whole-load-of-lawyers-on-retainer dangerous, I-can-do-damage dangerous. She couldn’t be sure but for a moment Kitty even thought the suit was powering up- though just as quickly it died. Clearly whatever billionaire playboy routine Stark wanted to sell the public there was more to him than met the eye. The pretty red-head Kitty had seen earlier was rushing towards him, (doubtless calling security) but Marie was done for now- She was pulling back on her glove, muttering something to Jubie about her Logan and then stalking out. The use of the possessive pronoun didn’t go unnoticed by Kitty but right now they had bigger fish to fry-

“Your friend there’s got quite a temper,” Stark muttered then as he pulled himself upright. Forge’s address had printed out, he was folding it and handing it to her. “But then I understand that’s a family trait.”

Kitty took the paper off him, putting it in her ass pocket. He made a show of leering at her, she made a show of giving him the finger. Yup, the boy genius was definitely a moron. “Goodbye Tony,” she said. “You’ve been helpful- I’m sure it’s a first. But you might want to rethink the Wonder Woman hot-pants, I doubt you’ve the ass to pull it off.”

And with that she sashayed out.

Stark watched them leave the office.

Hacked into the CCTV cameras all around the building until he could be sure they’d taken the exit to Westchester and then pulled out his phone. He paused for a second, nodding minutely to his assistant Pepper and waiting until she left the room- The less she knew about this the better- before hitting speed dial. Waiting a beat.

It picked up on the third ring.

“It’s done,” Stark said softly. “They’re on the way. All three of them.”

The voice on the other end hissed with electronic interference. “That’s good, Tony. I’ll have Forge prepare the welcome wagon. We’ll be in touch-” And he hung up before Stark could say a word. Before he could ask whether he’d done enough to help the bastard’s cause. The billionaire poured himself another bourbon, clicking on his computer’s internet icon as he took a swallow. Immediately the screen filled with the same website it had held for the past week: An image of a clock counting down and behind that one of his wife, sitting huddled in a jail cell. Being… interrogated by Victor Creed. He clicked on his intercom-

“Pepper,” he said softly, “Take the rest of the day off.”

And he drained the glass of bourbon in one.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

So, her inner pain-in-the-ass rumbled, I’m your Logan.

He’d been at this since they left Manhattan. Ever since they’d agreed to head for Nevada despite all three women’s misgivings, since it was the only lead they had. Not a thought about this Forge person, not a worry about what Tony Stark obviously wasn’t telling them about his flesh-and-blood counterpart’s disappearance. Hell no: All Logan cared about was her minor slip of the tongue- it’s such a nimble tongue, darlin’- and the fact that she’d let her temper take over for the second time that day. It was annoying as fuck: Marie was strongly considering just letting him die in whatever Hell-hole he’d gotten himself tossed into but if she did that his ghost would probably fucking haunt her. So-

“No,” she said primly, (for the tenth time) “you’re mah assignment.”

Your assignment who’s also your Logan.

“Assignment!”

Logan! Yours! She heard his gravel-crunched laugh. You know this kinda denial ain’t healthy sweetheart. There ain’t no shame here-

“Clearly.”

Aw, you don’t really mean that- And before you say anything, I think you look great in the suit.

And he went back to grinning smugly in her head, having said the one thing that he knew would stop their argument. Despite herself Marie blushed, brushing her hand across the black leather uniform, staring in her mirror at a reflection she hadn’t seen in two years. An X-Man stared back at her, her stripes vivid and white against all the black, her stance confident and lithe. Outside she knew Jubie and Kit were saying goodbye to their respective boys before they took the Blackbird to Nevada: In fact, if she listened carefully, she was pretty certain she could hear Ju-Ju Bean and Remy tongue-wrestling from here. Her green satchel was sitting on the bed beside her, stuffed with everything a woman might need for a road-trip, just like it’d been the last time she left the Mansion. Except that time she’d been swearing that she’d never return-

Whereas this time she was praying she would.

“Going somewhere?” Callum asked behind her then. He had his arms crossed, his expression pained. Her inner Logan began crooning I’m A Little Teapot! soon as he saw him. It was almost as annoying as when he sang it in her head during sex.

Almost.

Marie blushed again. “Mah… friend Logan’s in trouble,” she told him. Ignoring her snickering inner Wolverine who didn’t think friend was an apt description of their relationship. Mentally she flipped him the finger. “Me’n the girls are gonna go get him,” she was explaining. “Gonna be away for a couple o’ days-”

“And you have t’do this, why?”

Yeah Marie, her inner Wolverine growled smugly, You have to do this why? Mentally she rolled her eyes- at both of them. “When mah mutation kicked in,” she explained patiently, “Ah had to leave home. Mah parents kicked me out-”

“You told me that.”

“What Ah didn’t tell you was how Ah ended up in this place.” She forced herself to look at him. His expression was best described as wary- With an extra dollop of judgemental. “A man picked me up when Ah was on the road, Cal,” she continued, ignoring the dollop. “That man was Logan.”

“What was he, a social worker?”

She couldn’t help her small laugh, even though it seemed to piss her boyfriend off more. “Ah’ve heard him called a lotta things,” she muttered, “But social worker is a first. No, he was a cage-fighter, King o’ the Ring from here to Anchorage. He took me in-”

“Took you in?” Callum’s eyes narrowed like he was looking at something real unpleasant and wondering whether it was gonna bite his ass. Instantly her inner Logan started growling.

I don’t like the way that asshole’s looking at you, darlin’, he rumbled.

Truth be told Marie didn’t like it either, but she wouldn’t give Wolverine the satisfaction of saying it out loud.

“What do you mean, he took you in, Marie?” Callum repeated. His expression had turned… sour. “What would a man like that want with a sixteen year old girl?”

She shrugged. “He was a mutant too, and he was lonely. We were- Ah don’t know. Ya might say we were kindred spirits.” And she looked away, tugging at her glove, awkward because she knew there was far more to it than that.

Callum’s snort was patronising. “A teenaged girl and a cage fighter were kindred spirits?”

“We were a Rogue and a Wolverine,” she corrected softly. “Besides, strays attract strays-”

“And you were his stray, were you?” Callum’s tone wasn’t even remotely friendly anymore, it was accusing. “That’s what they’re calling it these days? Jesus Marie, if the bastard took advantage of you when you were under-age then why the Hell are you chasing him now?”

Say what-the-fuck? her inner Wolverine snarled.

“Say what-the-fuck?” Marie repeated.

Though for once she actually sounded scarier.

“Please!” Callum snapped. “Strays attract strays? Did you think I didn’t know what kind of life you had, Marie? Did you think I hadn’t guessed that you’d done more than one unpleasant thing to survive? I know the kind of woman you are-” he wrinkled his nose disdainfully, gesturing to the leather suit, “And I wasn’t born yesterday, the sort of man who picks up a teenage runaway at the side of the road isn’t looking for a pet stray-”

Instantly she was in his face.

It was just like today with Stark only worse. More enraging. The self-righteousness he was spouting made her wish she had her own set of claws. “Listen here, bub,” she bit out. “And listen good. Ah might have had mah differences with Logan, but you do not talk that sorta shit about him, you understand me?” He made to interrupt and she spoke over him with nary a pause. “He never took advantage of me. He saved me, saved me more times than Ah can count. He took care o’ me. Not the when-will-you-be-home? Shit you spout, the real fucking deal. When it matters.” Memories flashed unbidden through her mind, Logan smiling proudly at her grease-stained self the first time she successfully put the Blackbird engine back together after a mission. Hazel eyes peering down into hers when she found out that Professor Xavier had died, holding her tight as she cried. His big heavy hands on her hips their first night together, a sky-ful of stars behind him as he pressed her back against the grass and told her she was his and he loved her, lethal skin or no. A whole lifetime’s worth of memories were flooding through her head and suddenly she felt her heart kick into life for the first time in two years, adrenaline and passion and plain old love flooding her system fit to overload it. Overwhelming because she hadn’t let herself feel it in so long-

And then-

Red hair against her- their-sheets. Two bodies tangled up like damp thread, slick with sweat. A dead woman’s name echoing through their room as Marie watched and Logan- Logan-

Instantly Marie shut her heart down. Set it to numb. She felt sudden tears prick her eyes but she held them back: She wouldn’t remember that. She couldn’t. Not now, not in this room. Not with the man she- she… loved in front of her.

A beat.

“Ah think Ah should go,” she said then. Stepped away from Callum, let go of him. Forced the pain tearing through her chest back inside its box. She wouldn’t dwell on that, she refused to. She didn’t want to remember how Logan had broken her heart. Besides her current boyfriend was staring at her like she’d grown another head and she had a Wolverine to save- Even if she hated his guts now. Her heart would have to wait.

But Callum was still making with the judging. “If you go,” he was muttering, “Don’t bother coming back.”

“You don’t mean that.” And she knew he didn’t. Breaking up with her would require more spine than Callum possessed.

“I do! I swear, if you go chasing after that dirty old pervert I’ll walk on you-”

But she just shifted the bag onto her shoulder. Pulled the zipper shut and made to go. She saw her reflection in the glass behind him once again but this time all she recognised was her tiredness. Her pinched, closed look.

You’ve been wearing it fer two years darlin’, her inner Wolverine growled. You should do.

Whose fucking fault is that?

For once he didn’t answer back.

“Ah should be back in a few days,” she told Callum then, ignoring his threat. “If ya want anything just ask Remy. You wanna borrow a car, just ask Storm.” And she turned her back on him, shutting the door behind her. Trying to tell herself there weren’t still tears in her eyes as she leaned, just for a second, against the wood before moving off. She stalked through the Mansion with the fuck-you aplomb of Magneto on a bad day, got on board the Blackbird and took her up. Kitty and Jubes took one look at her expression and left her at the controls without another word. Just began suiting up and checking their weaponry, Jubes calling ahead to her contact on the ground in Nevada and asking her to set up a cover-story. Marie focussed on the jet, on her flight-plan, on everything except the big lump of numbness in her chest-

Her inner Wolverine didn’t make a peep for the rest of the night.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

And Marie gestured to the neon-covered building before them apprehensively, her long white stripes fluttering about her face. They were standing in front of Jubie’s contact’s place, waiting beside a bouncer who made even Pyotr look short. The scene was chaotic: Every drunk in Nevada seemed to be stumbling, howling and singing less-than-tunefully at the top of their lungs, all of them giving her, Kitty and Jubes the glad eye and making with the grabby hands. One particularly dense drink of water in a White Sox shirt made to grab Jubie’s ass and she paffed the sonofabitch, blinding him and knocking him backwards-

“Fuck you!” all three girls growled in unison.

He laughed as he landed on his backside. “That mutant hooker totally used her powers on me, dude!” he crowed, high-fiving the guy to his right as he stumbled away.

Rogue shot Jubes a See what Ah mean look then. “So we’re mutant hookers now, are we?”

Jubes rolled her eyes. “We’re standing in Las Vegas’ only mutant-run whorehouse,” she retorted. “And we’re all wearing head-to-toe black leather. Of course they think we’re hookers. But we know we’re not so roll with the punches, Roguey.”

“You roll with them.” Another obviously suicidal drunk tried to grab Marie and she kneed him in the balls. Twice. Even Kitty winced. “Ah’m here to get in, find out what you need to know and then get the Hell out,” Marie was growling. “Ah ain’t getting felt up for anyone, even Logan-”

“But you could totally make a living at it, sweetheart,” a voice chimed for behind her. “The attitude and the outfit both scream dominant, you know?”

And all three women turned to see a stunning Amazonian woman with beautifully scaled peacock-blue skin standing, hands on hips. She was grinning dryly at Marie, holding her hand out. “You must be Rogue,” she said. “I’m Stacey. Welcome to my place.” She nodded to Jubes, smile widening. “You didn’t lie, chica,” Stacey drawled. “Baby girl’s a stunner. Now I can see why Logan was so smitten…” She licked her lips, shook her head. “Tamzin is going to be gutted when she sees her.”

“And Tamzin is..?” Marie demanded.

“Our headliner. That’s her there.” Stacey gestured towards the raised stage in the middle of the room where a gorgeous redhead with black, lizard-like wings was swinging around a pole. The crowd seemed enthralled by her. “Every time Logan comes here she makes a play,” Stacey was explaining, “And every time he shoots her down-”

Marie snorted. “Ah seriously doubt that; He likes redheads.” And her expression turned closed, angry. Mouth twisting in a bitter line. It was the same broken-hearted look she’d been wearing when she’d stormed into the Blackbird last night and once again Jubie felt a thrill of unease at how unhappy her friend seemed to be.

Jesus Wolvie, she thought, What the fuck did you do to our girl?

Stacey finally seemed to register how upset the young woman was because she smiled with forced calmness and gestured towards the door. “Maybe so,” she said politely. “But since you said time is a factor, perhaps we could discuss this in my office?”

The three girls were ushered into an enormous, wall-to-wall glass and champagne-white box, the kinda place where Jubes was always afraid her thoughts would stain the furniture. Stacey gestured to a plush stuffed leather couch and they took a seat. “This is everything I have on Forge,” Stacey began, handing them dossiers. A man who had once been handsome stared back at Jubes from a photo, a series of dark tats covering his neck and arms. He looked like he’d been to Hell and back but hadn’t made the return journey all in one piece. “He’s well known locally, well liked,” Stacey was saying. “No convictions, no ties with the Mob, which Christ knows ain’t easy in this town. He specialises in incarceration systems for dangerous mutants: He designed Eric Lensherr’s plastic prison, for example. And some of the more…specialised equipment here in the X Ranch.” Her grin turned leering, eyes far away. Jubie decided she didn’t wanna know. “He knows Logan,” Stacey continued after a moment, clearing her throat. “They go back to before Vietnam, if the drunken stories are anything to go by-”

“They’re friends?” Kitty blinked in surprise. “Sensei never mentioned that.”

“I imagine there’s plenty he does here that your sensei never mentioned.” The older woman sounded slightly patronising though Kitty being Kitty didn’t react. Marie rolled her eyes. “But if Forge is involved,” the older woman continued, “then it’s not voluntarily, I can tell you that now. Man wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Y’all sound awfully convinced,” Marie growled.

“You might say we have a professional relationship. In fact, I gave him a call, told him to expect you-” At Rogue’s annoyed expression she held out a placating hand. “I mean, I told him a couple of my girls would be paying him a visit. Gratis, for his customer loyalty. That way if three lookers in leather turn up he won’t be surprised.” She shrugged. “It’s the only way in: That compound’s locked down tighter than Senator Osborne’s panty drawer-”

“But if he’s such a good customer,” Kitty asked, “Then why would you shop him to us?”

Stacey’s look was calculating. “Like I said, I don’t think he’s involved, at least voluntarily. But if he is our association could bring…repercussions which I might not like.” She shrugged. “When Logan’s pissed, shit tends to go boom. He’s gonna get out of this, I have no doubt of that, and when he does he’s not going to stop and ask questions, he’s just going to attack- Especially if it involves you three. Best to be able to say I lent a hand in the jailbreak if asked.” Again that calculating look swept over the three women, though her gaze lingered slightly on Rogue. “Besides,” the Madame continued after a moment, “I still owe Jubes there, and I like to pay my debts. That’s just smart.” She gestured to the door and an absolutely massive bald man appeared as if summoned by magic. “Archibald will take you out to the compound,” she said. “You’ll use the company car, that way they’ll know I sent you. Have a talk with Forge and find out where he sent Logan.” She stood, straightening her Armani business suit. “And Jubilee,” she added with a final toss of her lovely head, “our debt is cancelled, is that clear?”

Jubie nodded. “As the mighty Mississippi.” The older woman gave a final nod and then she was gone. But Jubes didn’t like this: Her Wolvie sense was a-tingling and experience told her massive property damage and loss of limb were on their way. Besides, she’d never known Stacey to be this forthcoming if there wasn’t anything in it for her… So clearly something was. But what could it be?

A beat.

“So you’re thinking trap?” Kitty asked her quietly then. Jubes couldn’t help but notice that Archibald seemed really fucking well armed for a simple chauffeur- And that he was about to drive them into the Nevada desert, which couldn’t be a good sign.

“Fuck yeah,” she muttered, “I’ve been thinking that since we left Stark’s office.” She blew hair through her bangs. “I just don’t see another choice. If we want to find our Wolvie, we gotta follow his trail.” She nodded to Rogue, who was still staring at the redhead Stacey had said Logan kept turning down. Her expression was angry, sad. Un-fucking-Rogue-like. It was painful see. “Besides,” Jubes continued after a moment, waving her worry away, “We’re the best of the best at what we do, and we’re totally prepared: We can handle this.” She grinned tightly at Kitty, hoping her confidence would travel. “They won’t hear us coming over the sound of our awesomeness, chica,” she said with certainty-

She just really hoped she wasn’t blowing smoke up her girls’ ass.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Stacey sent us.”

And Jubes shot the nice doorman with the Kalashnikov her sweetest smile. Hiking her skirt up more and wishing for the millionth time that the boob fairy had been a little kinder where she was concerned. Behind her Marie growled and the firecracker fought the urge to roll her eyes: This was their best chance of getting inside without a full-scale attack, but if Rogue kept growling like this then they’d never get past the velvet rope-

Unless of course this Forge dude had a hankering for a Southern dominatrix, in which case they were home and dry.

“We told Stacey we couldn’t pay this month,” the doorman said tersely then. He looked more bored than any man confronted with leather-wearing women should be. “No money, no hookers. Now scram.”

“But we’re gratis, aren’t we girls?” And she tried for a dazzling smile this time. Not sure whether she was overplaying it since she’d never had to pretend to be a hooker before now. Logan had, but that was another story. The doorman didn’t budge and Jubie wished for once that Remy was here, since (prior to their marriage, obviously) there wasn’t anything her hubbie didn’t know about the social niceties of prostitution. Hell, he probably could have given them lessons if asked. “Stacey said we were a bonus,” she said a little desperately. “We even have a little something to get the party started-” And she held up three bottles of Moet & Chandon, champagne glasses twinkling in the light-

“Let them in,” a voice sounded then.

All three women turned to see a tall, slim man standing in the shadows. He was wearing thick horn-rimmed spectacles, every visible inch of his hands covered in tattoos. So this is Forge, Jubes thought.

She recognised the dude from Stacey’s files.

“Thanks,” Marie drawled, stalking by the doorman, Kitty at her heels. Her tone made her words slightly less than convincing but the man let her by all the same.

“I like your suit,” Forge said softly. Hands reaching out and closing around Rogue’s waist, pulling her to him. He was looking at her oddly- Almost like he was trying to place her face- which just made Jubie tetchy. Apparently she wasn’t the only one: Marie tensed up the moment he put his hands on her, obviously fighting the urge to push him away. Logan was the only man Jubes had ever seen Marie relax into touching, and that was probably because of his healing factor. Oh, and the whole being-the-love-of-her-life thing. Despite the fact that she’d been able to control her mutation for years, Rogue still found tactile contact uncomfortable- And the way this asshole’s hands were roaming wasn’t gonna enhance chica’s calm any. A look flashed between her and Kitty, understanding blooming on the Kitten’s face and she flashed Forge her sweetest, most innocent smile, pulling his hands from Rogue’s waist and placing them on her own.

“Hey,” she murmured, “There’s more of that to go around, isn’t there?”

Forge blinked down at her. Again with the searching look. His finger slid down her cheek, her throat, curling at her clavicle. Unlike Marie Kitty didn’t even blink, just leaned into his touch. Took a mouthful of champagne straight from the bottle and kissed him hungrily.

For the first time the doorman looked interested. Jubie didn’t blame him: She’d known Kitty Pryde since before she owned a training bra and even she was interested.

“You girls are new,” Forge muttered then. “What’s that accent, Chicago?”

Kitty’s smile widened. “Good ear. Is everything about you that good?” And Jubes watched in amazement as the littlest ninja took Forge’s hand, leading him slyly inside. Everything about her screaming Easy And Proud Of It with an aplomb not normally seen outside New Orleans at Mardi Gras. For the first time even the doorman looked a little jealous…

“Pyotr Rasputin is one lucky man,” Marie muttered under her breath.

“You said it,” Jubes agreed. Following their unexpectedly brazen friend inside and checking the exits in case they had to run. By the time they reached Forge’s room Kit had already pulled out a pair of handcuffs, still carrying the bottle in her left hand. She was pushing Forge down onto a massive couch, his shirt halfway off his shoulders, his fly open. Jesus, Jubes found herself thinking, It really is the quiet ones you have to watch. Kitty pulled the silk scarf Marie was wearing off her friend’s neck and looped it coyly over Forge’s eyes, still smiling and sipping champagne. Whispering sweet nothings into his ear. He grinned, apparently pleased with where this was going and Jubes didn’t blame him-

But as soon as she had the knot tied Kitty kneed him in the nuts.

Pulling the blindfold tighter and smacking the cuffs onto his wrists with a viciousness which would have done Logan proud. Knocking the wind out of him she yanked him onto his knees, jabbing his throat with lightning speed and stealing his voice. Marie darted away, locking the door and setting an electro-magnetic pulse generator on the floor beside him. It was just big enough to knock out any electronic surveillance equipment in the room but not big enough to wipe the entire building-

Since they knew a building-wide blackout wouldn’t exactly be conducive to stealth.

Pryde grabbed Forge’s head by the hair and yanked his skull roughly backwards then. “We have a couple of questions,” she muttered.

The man actually laughed at her action. “And what happens if I don’t answer: Are you going to punish me?”

Kitty smashed the champagne bottle against the wall to her right, shattering it, and set the broken remnant against the skin in his arm. Cutting slightly into the tissue, just enough to make him bleed a little. “I’ll only punish you if you don’t tell me what I want to know,” she said.

“And what do you want to know?” His smile widened. “Whether I’ve been a bad, bad-”

“You watch too much porn, moron,” Kitty snarled. Elbowing him in the nose and stopping his words. “Now a friend of ours came here a week ago,” she bit out, “and then disappeared. From what we’ve gathered you were the last person to see Logan which makes you the biggest suspect in his disappearance.” She slit his skin again, bleeding him a little more. This time he hissed at the pain of it. “Now tell us what you did to him or-”

“Or what?” Forge’s expression grew mocking, and something tugged at Jubes’ memory. Something about the set of his mouth. It looked familiar but she couldn’t place where from… “Are you telling me that the little girl who walked through walls for Charles Xavier is going to cut me?” He sneered. “Kill me? You haven’t the fucking stones, Kitten-”

It came to Jubes in a flash then.

Where she’d seen that expression before. Who’d been wearing it and how they’d beaten three shades of shit out of Logan and Marie without breaking a sweat. Jubes yanked Kitty and Roguey back, forcing a rainbow of spitting paffs between them and the prisoner and dropping her stance for fighting but it was too late: Forge wasn’t Forge anymore. Realising that his disguise was now worth jack shit the prisoner’s skin flashed blue, his hair turning red. Making a move no creature with a skeleton should have been able to perform he slid one of his hands out of the cuffs, swinging the dangling silver circle viciously at Jubie and then smashing a blue elbow into her cheek. Kitty slashed with the bottle but the prisoner was too quick: The thing that had looked like Forge sprang onto one hand and smashed a blue foot against Pryde’s jaw before ramming into Rogue with all her weight. Knocking her against the door-jam with a painful-sounding crack. For a split second all three women were dazed, the prisoner’s eyes flashing yellow, his- now her- smile mocking-

And then suddenly Logan was before them.

One knee forced between Rogue’s legs and pressing her back against the wall. One hand tangled viciously in her long hair, the other against her belly ready to gut. “Hey darlin’” Mystique growled, her voice a perfect imitation of Wolvie’s, “You miss your Papa Bear, did ya?”

Marie did the only thing she could do.

She head-butted the bitch.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Aw Porn Smurf,” Marie growled. “D’ya even need to ask that?”

And without hesitation she smashed her fist into Mystique’s nose, breaking the cartilage and knocking the mutant’s head back against the wall beside her with a nasty Crack! Forcing the shape-shifter’s torso into the wall again with a sharp jab and then kicking her soundly in the solar plexus. If Mystique had thought that wearing Logan’s face would put her off her game she was deeply fucking mistaken-

Because after all, she’d been wanting to kick the shit outta him for two damn years.

Jubie and Kit scrambled to their feet then, the firecracker’s paffs spitting and burning around her like a bonfire, Kitty reaching out and dosing Marie with her mutation- just like old times. Mystique dodged the plasma globes, smashing her fist into the pulse generator and destroying it: Immediately the compound’s security system went into lockdown, the automatic doors slamming shut as it registered a threat- Which meant that getting outta here had just gotten a whole Helluva lot more complicated.

The words sitting, fucking and duck suddenly seemed mighty descriptive of their situation, Rogue thought then.

“Kit-” Jubie began but Pryde was way ahead of her: She reached into her jacket, pulling out the X-Man’s version of a Blackberry and booting it up. Ducking behind the couch and trying to hack into Forge’s security system and get them out. Jubes ran interference, keeping the Kitten safe while Marie made sure Mystique didn’t stop her. It was almost easy: Marie turned her body metal, smashing one fucking heavy hand into the Blue Bitch’s face and knocking her flying. Kicking the now prostrate mutant viciously in the kidneys when she landed, then dragging her to her feet by her hair. She’d taken the liberty of borrowing Pyotr and Bobby’s powers before she left the mansion (though not Remy’s, experience having taught Rogue that explosive mutations and her were a Biblically bad mix) and she intended to use every one of her borrowed gifts on the bitch before her-

“Is that the best you got, daddy’s girl?” Mystique muttered through bloodied lips.

“Hell no,” Marie retorted, “Ah got plenty more in mah bag.” And she dug her nails viciously into Mystique’s throat, drawing on Bobby’s mutation and forcing ice beneath the tissue. Making Mystique hiss as frost raced beneath her skin and then head-butting her again. Since beating up the Porn Smurf when she looked like Logan was doing wonders for her sense of Zen. The shape-shifter rallied, dazed perhaps by the viciousness of the attack but unwilling to let Marie have this round: She slashed angrily at the younger woman but Rogue ducked out of the way at the last minute, letting her fake claws smash into the wall behind both of them. Her opponent giving a yelp of pain as her knuckles and not real adamantium hit home and Marie shot her a feral grin.

“Smarts, don’t it Porn Surf?”

“Stop calling me that,” Mystique snarled.

Marie’s smile widened. “Make me. Porn Smurf-”

And she pulled herself to her feet, holding her hands out in a come to Momma gesture which did nothing to help Mystique’s temper. The Blue Bitch snarled, making a run at her, fake claws popped and ready to slash and at the last minute Marie phased herself with Kitty’s mutation, letting her opponent run through her and straight into the wall behind with a painful smash. Jubie snickered- Even Mystique looked embarrassed at being caught out by such a rookie manoeuvre- and Marie picked up Kitty’s discarded champagne bottle. Hefting the sharp glass in her hand and smashing it down hard towards the side of Mystique’s head. Once, twice, three times. It made contact- there was plenty o’ blood spatter- but before she could round on the shape-shifter again she was forced to fall back-

As the wall beside her exploded inwards in a shower of wood and sparks.

Marie took cover behind a shattered coffee table and watched as two glowing yellow-white orbs appeared in the middle of the room. The impact having shorted out anything electronic- including the lights. For a moment all was still and then- Then- Something, some human-shaped metal thing unfurled itself from where it had landed. Standing straight and tall like a shining statue.

A statue which appeared to be listening to AC/DC, if her ears were to be believed.

Well, Rogue thought, at least it has taste.

“I can pay for the damage,” Tony Stark’s voice sounded then, the music fading out. Was he listening to a fucking I-Pod? “But in fairness, it’s totally worth it for an entrance like that.” And despite the fact that his face was covered, Marie couldn’t help the suspicion that he was grinning. Proud of himself, though they might well now be trapped in Forge’s compound and if there had been any civilians in the situation they would all be toast.

Fucking newbies, she thought viciously.

“Fucking newbies,” Jubes muttered behind her.

A beat.

The Blue Bitch seemed to recover then. It was weird: For a split second Mystique looked torn, like she didn’t wanna leave. Her eyes flashing yellow, blue edging through her veins- half Logan, half Porn Smurf, all pain in the ass- before skittering to her feet, her decision obviously made. She swung her elbow back into Marie’s face, smashing into her jaw and then clawing at one of the younger woman’s gloves, tearing it from her hand so quickly that she Marie didn‘t even have a chance to stop her. It seemed such a weird thing to do, but before she had a time to ponder it the Blue Bitch was on her feet and away. Jubes made a grab for the shape-shifter’s ankle but the Stark action figurine raised its hand, an orb of light glowing in its palm and Mystique shifted Jubes’ smaller body in front of hers to take the impact. Stark couldn’t or didn’t stop himself and the firecracker let out a string of cuss words as his beam smacked into her chest, knocking chica on her ass and stunning her. Mystique shot them one last grin as she tore out through the compound like the devil himself was on her tail-

And then she was eaten up in the darkness. Leaving the three women glaring at the Stark.

“What?” the billionaire muttered. “Wasn’t that a win? That she ran away?” And the metal creature popped its visor, showing them Stark’s handsome, mock-innocent face.

“Ooh look,” Jubie muttered, getting gingerly to her feet. “Santa Clause sent us the new Forrest Gump Transformer for Christmas. Yay.” And despite the fact that he had a metal body she smacked the suit on the back of the head before limping outside. As did Kitty. And Rogue. Though she metalled up her fist like Pyotr’s when she did it, just in case it actually hurt the bastard. “Way to go, newbie,” she muttered. “Now we’ll never find out what the Porn Smurf knows, or where Logan is-”

But Tony smiled devilishly, stopping her in her tracks. One hand on her elbow and then (after pondering how unhealthy that position was) one hand on his hip.

“Oh ye of little faith,” he said. She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Let’s just say, I only got the party started…”

Victor peered through the glass at his brother.

The Runt was a mess; Falling apart physically and mentally, talking to that little fucking parasite of his even though she wasn’t really there. It was the mixture of drugs, physical torture and having his healing factor turned off: he didn’t know which way was up, where he even was. Vic shook his head: He’d spent so long planning, calculating- And yet now that it was so close to fruition, now that he could see the Runt falling apart before him-

He didn’t like it none.

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” a voice sounded behind him then. The voice of the boss man, the one who’d put this together. A credit t’the gene pool, even if Vic did say so himself.

“Of course not,” Creed growled. “Just admiring my work is all.” And he grinned as Mystique limped by him, looking like- looking like she’d gone ten rounds with him and come out the worse fer wear. It was a mighty pretty sight.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” she muttered.

“Nothing,” he said, face angelic. “It’s just, weren’t you supposed to have someone with you, Rave?”

“Fuck you and the horse you fucking rode in on, you cock-sucking asshole,” she snapped.

His grin widened further. “You kiss your Momma with that mouth?”

“No, I fucking kiss yours. After she’s done licking me off.” And she turned to the boss man, her expression an inch away from homicidal. Embarrassed, but homicidal.“I couldn’t get them,” she was muttering. “The parasite ran me off.” And she winced, feeling at her bleeding temple. “Besides we may have another player: This metal… thing turned up. Not the fucking smartest, but a heavy hitter. He’s with the girls now.”

“So you failed,” the boss man said simply.

“Yes,” Rave muttered, “I-I underestimated them. They came looking for a fight, and I didn’t realise they’d play by Papa Wolverine’s rules. But I did manage to get a little something for your boy.” And she held up Marie’s stolen glove, still stained with the younger woman’s blood. Smiling slightly now when she saw how pleased the boss’s expression had become. “Can we synthesize the scent?” she asked him.

“Oh,” the boss man muttered. “I think we can do better than that.”

And for the first time since he had known him, Victor saw the little bastard smile.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“What are you all looking at?” Tony asked nonchalantly. Standing up straighter since he was in the suit.

The Southern Belle was hiding it well though. “We’re trying to decide which Power Ranger you are,” she drawled.

He had to grin. “Clearly I’m the Pink Ranger. See how shiny I am?”

“Are ya sure? Because Ah woulda gone with Dick Head Ranger mahself-”

“There’s no such Ranger-”

“There is now-”

“Okay, shut up, the pair of you!” And the Asian chick actually growled (it sounded kinda sexy), letting those glowing energy globe thingies she had dance along her fingers. He could tell just by the look on her face that she was thinking of killing him slowly-

Since just about every woman he’d ever known had looked at him like that at least once. Well, all except Pepper-

He pushed that thought worriedly away.

“Look, I’m sorry if I messed up your whole Faster Pussycat, Kill! Kill! vibe back there,” he drawled, “But I had to make sure Mystique was distracted before I moved in. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity ever since you left New York so when Stacey called-”

The Asian chick held up her hand in a T. “Whoa, time out,” she interrupted, annoyed. “You were waiting for an opportunity? You’re the reason Stacey rolled over on Forge?” He nodded and her expression went from pretty but pissed to pretty but homicidal as understanding dawned. “You knew this was a trap, you sonofabitch!” she snarled.

Well, duh. “You’re telling me it didn’t occur to you that you were being set up?” he inquired.

LeBeau’s fireworks went off directly in his eyes, making him fall back. He righted himself and Pryde phased her knee through his suit, smacking matter-of-factly into his balls. He shot her a dirty look but she was unrepentant. For safety sake he pulled up his visor. “Of course it occurred to us,” Pryde said sweetly. “But the question isn’t whether we’re going to beat the shit out of you for that, Anthony. The question is whether we’re going to beat the shit out of you for sending our sensei into a trap.” And her chocolate brown eyes narrowed dangerously. “Now what did you tell Logan? And please remember Marie here has at least some of Wolverine’s sense of smell, so try to be honest-”

And all three of them shot him their cutest, most girlish grins.

It was terrifying.

“Look, I told Logan what he was walking into,” he muttered defensively then. Jubes hissed, and to his astonishment one of her fireworks sparked into existence inside his mask. He actually yelped as it went off. “I’m serious! I mean, come on, do you honestly think I could have lied to him with that nose of his? And do you honestly think I’d be stupid enough to try and get the man who gutted the Hulk killed?” Jubes looked unimpressed and two more energy globes went off, inside his gauntlets this time. Those ones actually smarted. “Look, two weeks ago my wife disappeared,” he said more urgently. “We’ve managed to keep it out of the papers, but Emma was kidnapped. The people who took her told me I was to contact Logan, send him here to see Forge. That was the price of her release-”

“And you paid it?” Pryde demanded.

“Yeah, I paid it,” he retorted. “But I warned him. Told him that he was walking into a trap and we came to an understanding-” despite himself his gaze flicked to Rogue, who was staring at him in frank disbelief. The understanding had been all to do with her- “He agreed to help me. Agreed to get taken in. For a fee he’d find Emma, get her out and give me a hand if I needed one in smashing the operation. He was never supposed to be captured long-term, I swear to you-”

Rogue spoke over him.“So why didn’t you tell us this when we turned up at your office?”

“Because the people who took Logan and my wife told me not to.” All three women looked at him sharply- that Pryde woman did the best accusing puppy-dog eyes he’d ever seen- and he sighed. “Look, whoever is pulling these strings had me send you here,” he said. “They were using Logan as bait for you three, I’m pretty certain about that. So I decided that since you were what they wanted-”

“That Logan wasn’t the only person who could be used as bait,” Marie finished, crossing her arms mulishly. Giving Pryde’s accusing gaze (and his mother’s) a run for their money.

“Yeah,” he said. “I knew they’d have to come out to get you, so I gave the prototype a test run.” Jubes opened her mouth to snap and he spoke over; For once he wasn’t proud of himself, a fact which he cunningly covered with defensiveness. “Yeah, I know. Shock, horror, used you as bait. But we’re all over it. And we all know you three would do the same to me in a heart-beat if it meant getting your precious Wolverine back, so cut the self-righteousness crap.” Hell, if they had to they’d serve him to Creed in a marinara sauce. Not one of the girls disagreed: they just stared at him in angry, accusing silence. Let him stew. “Look,” he snapped eventually, that pesky little spark of guilt still eating at him, “I was watching the feed today when I realised that the woman on the screen wasn’t even my wife. That she might- That Emma might be dead.” He took in a hissing breath despite himself, still worried as Hell. “There was camera flare around the eyes-”

“Porn Smurf flare,” all three said at once.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m thinking, Porn Smurf flare. And if it’s not really Emma-” if it was never really Emma- “then I have nothing to lose.” He said this part to his boots, thoughts going once again to Pepper and how thankful he was that she was still safely ignorant of all this.

Because one dead woman he cared about was more than enough for his conscience to bear.

A beat.

To his surprise Rogue put a hand on his shoulder then. “We’ll find her, Tony,” she said more gently. “We’ll help. Just keep us in the loop next time, okay?” And she cleared her throat suddenly, moved back towards the other girls. Apparently there would be no more touchy-feely for him. “Now I’m assuming you let the Blue Bitch get away for a reason?”

Finally Tony could smile, nodding. “I totally tagged her.” He took in the girls’ disbelieving faces. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“We’ve tagged her before,” Marie drawled. “It won’t work. Mystique has a knack for realising she’s transmitting. And whoever took Logan would have to be ten kinds o’ stupid not to check her when she came back-”

Stark grinned tightly. “Yeah, if she was transmitting now. But the bug’s designed to wait until the adrenaline levels of the host go down before it starts transmitting.” His smile widened slightly, now they were on his favourite topic- His genius. “One of my better ideas, I know. Makes it almost impossible to detect…”

Pryde almost looked impressed. “So it waits until you’re calm and think you’re safe before it gives you away. Nice.” She picked up her Blackberry, threw it towards him. “We can use that to hone in on the signal, we just need the frequency.” She grinned darkly at his unimpressed reaction. “Don’t worry, it’s more powerful than it looks: After all, I hacked into your system in under a minute with it more than once.” She ignored his scandalised expression. “So how long do you think it‘ll take?”

He shrugged. “There’s no way to know: We just have to wait.”

All three women nodded. Jubes pulled out a pack of cards and held them towards Tony. “You play, cher?” she murmured, suddenly demure. Sweet and innocent. “Since we gotta wait around, non?” Marie and Kitty were grinning behind their hands, biting their cheeks.

“I’ve been known to play a hand of poker,” Tony muttered.

Jubes smile turned dazzling. “Then you will love playing with me.”

Suddenly Tony found himself wishing that Mystique would start transmitting right now. Because something told him that the cards weren’t the only thing about to be played.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Marie had flecks of gold in her eyes.

Logan remembered very clearly the first time he’d noticed it. It had been a Sunday morning, and she’d turned over to face him in their bed. Nestling against his side, mouth curving into that almost-shy smile she wore when she was still half asleep. He was cut to Hell- Bucket-head had used him as a scratching post fer about five hours before Storm and Kurt found him- but he hadn’t cared none. Not when she was smiling at him like that. Hair everywhere, skin flushed and warm and so fucking soft he sometimes wondered whether she was real. He smiled back down at her, gently pulling her arms above her head. Watching the way her body stretched out for him, back arching upwards in half-conscious arousal. She’d kissed him lovingly, lightly, eyes half open and staring into his- And in that moment, that almost perfect moment, he’d realised two things.

Firstly- Marie had flecks of gold in her eyes.

And secondly- He was happy. He was really fucking happy, for the first time that he could remember.

And it had scared the living shit outta him.

Logan frowned then, brows drawn together in pain. He tried to focus on the source of it, tried to drag himself out of the haze that his mind was in- But he couldn’t. Somewhere deep inside him he knew he shouldn’t be doing this, knew drowning in memory was a killing art; Even his inner Wolverine was demanding he get up, fight. Make with the claws and the gutting and the rage. But he couldn’t seem to leave these thoughts behind him-

And Marie’s golden-flecked gaze was still gleaming behind his eyes.

“Do you love me?” he heard her ask then. Like she was in the cell with him.

“Do you love me, Logan?”

He opened his eyes, saw her. Beautiful and young and healthy and- and here.

Logan opened his eyes more fully then.

Tried to raise his head, to focus as he watched Marie walk slowly, gently towards him. One hand over her mouth in pity, those brown eyes wide and kind. She knelt down in front of him, holding him to her, little arms wrapping tight around him and pulling him closer. Fingers tangling in his hair and murmuring his name. Logan inhaled her scent, leaning into her. So tired and hurt and fucking exhausted by what had been done to him that he hadn’t the energy to pull back. He couldn’t pretend that he didn’t want her right where she was now-

And again she said it. “Do you love me, Logan?” She was holding his face up to hers, gaze searching. “Do you- Do you want me?”

“I never wanted anyone but you.”

And it was true. Had been fer years. Ever since she’d joined the team, ever since he’d realised that she’d gone and grown up. Golden flecked eyes and round, soft flesh and a throaty, whispered drawl had been all he’d wanted. All he knew he’d ever want. And now she was here, she was close and safe and she wasn’t angry with him- She wasn’t leaving him- He hadn’t fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him, and Jesus, the relief of it-

“That’s enough,” Creed’s voice sounded then.

She turned to see Sabre-tooth standing behind the closed door of the cell. A vicious leer on his face. Logan could smell how turned on he was and their situation came back to him with sudden, blinding force.

They’d found her. They’d found her and brought her in. Fuck.

Instantly his lips drew back in a snarl. Hackles rising, strength flowing into his body as something older than thought or logic hissed through his bones: The will to protect what was his from harm.

“No, shuggs-” Marie said softly. “Don’t, he’ll hurt you-” She shifted her little body to shield him, her expression frightened- Like it had been on Liberty Island. Something tugged at his memory, some warning that that wasn’t quite right and he sniffed more deeply, testing her scent- But it was her alright. It was definitely her-

He popped his claws then.

“Move, Marie,” he muttered. Concentrating, focussing his strength. They were getting outta here right now. The idea that Marie was in danger was enough to cut through the drugs, through the haze his mind was in. She was here. She needed him.

And if Victor so much as raised a hand to her, he’d end his brother’s worthless fucking life.

Vic grinned then. “Oh look, Mean-streak: Your boyfriend’s getting broody.” And he beckoned with one nail to Logan. “Come on, little brother, try and stop me-”

And fast as lightning Creed darted forward, grabbing Marie by the hair and hauling her in front of him. She screamed, smashing her fist into his jaw but it didn’t even slow him down: Give Victor enough adrenaline and you could have hit him with a truck, it wouldn’t stop him any. Marie began to holler and thrash as Creed forced her back against the wall, his hands clawing underneath her clothes, nails raking at her flesh. The scent of her blood hit the air suddenly- And it was her blood, Logan would have recognised the smell anywhere- and maybe it was adrenaline of his own or sheer naked desperation but Logan got one arm loose. Not even noticing the pain of dislocating it at the shoulder as he swung his feet back against the wall. Pushing hard with his feet and torso against the remaining chain. He slashed downwards with his claws, the metal gleaming wickedly in the light as drove it into his arm. His blood sluicing downwards and slicking up his wrist enough to perhaps yank it loose. He pulled- once, twice, three times- the skin cutting from where the chain-cuff dug in and then suddenly he heard Victor give a howl of pain. Turned just fast enough to see his brother dart away from Marie as if he’d been electrocuted. She musta used her mutation on him-

That’s my girl, Logan thought then.

“You bitch,” Victor snarled. Grabbing her by her hair and smacking her forehead painfully into the wall before tossing her from him. Keeping well clear of her skin. She skittered back towards Logan, her breath coming in little pants. Tears in her eyes from Creed’s attack. Victor threw her a filthy look, muttering something Logan didn’t completely catch about a restraining collar before storming out. Marie crawled back towards him, laid her dark head against his chest. His free arm went around her, his mind already teeming with the idea that he would have to get loose now- “Ah can feel him inside me, shuggs,” she was whispering. “Ah can feel-”

“It’s alright,” he soothed her. “It’s alright darlin’, you’re safe. You fought him off.”

“This time. But what about the next time, Logan?” And she turned those massive, chocolate brown eyes on him. “What if next time he hurts you?”

“Let me worry about that.” A beat passed and then she smiled up at him, her anger over what he’d done to her apparently forgotten in the trauma of being brought in. Or maybe she’d seen how hurt he was and decided to forgive him. He didn’t fucking care. Her little hands were curling in his hair, her scent washing through him. Once again his inner Wolverine snarled, unwilling to accept that this was really Marie though the man in him knew her. Knew those gold flecked eyes and that Southern drawl. Besides, their nose never lied, and both her scent and blood matched up- it was her. Even the Wolverine had to allow the evidence of its own body-

So for the first time in two years he held her. Kissing her lightly as she cried. Soothing her, planning their escape. Knowing that even chained up and bruised and beaten there was no place on earth he’d rather be-

If only the Wolverine within him were as fucking convinced.

“Ain’t this a little cruel?” Vic asked.

Watching Rave cuddle up to Logan, pouting and whining like the little fucking girl they both remembered from Liberty Island. If it hadn’t been for the drugs in his system and her doctored scent Logan would have seen through it in a second- But gee whiz, he hadn’t.

Which meant that Vic’s life was about to get pretty fucking entertaining.

The boss man cocked an eyebrow at him then. “Are you serious?”

“I’m just saying. This is emotional torture fer the sake of emotional torture. We’re not even asking him questions.” He shrugged. “Why go to all this trouble?”

“Because he fucking deserves it.” And just fer a second the boss man’s calm demeanour slipped. Something even Vic thought was nasty moving across his face. “That sonofabitch deserves every kind of torture known to man,” he hissed. “And until he’s handed over I intend to deliver it.” His expression dared Victor to argue. “Problem?”

“No.”

“Good.”

A beat.

“Why’d you hate him so much?” Creed asked quietly then. At the other man’s cocked eyebrow he added, “C’mon, I’m a member of the gene pool too: I got my reasons fer hating Jimmy-boy’s guts. What are yours?”

“He left someone I loved to die.” The other man’s hands straightened, the beginnings of his claws edging through the skin. “And now he makes out he’s a hero. Him and those three little bitches of his, that family he’s never fucking deserved: They all convince the world of the myth of the mighty Wolverine.” The younger man’s hazel eyes flashed up into Victor’s, the expression merciless. Teeth drawn back in a snarl. “It’s bullshit. Everything to do with the him is bullshit. And when I’m through with him the world will know that.” And with that he turned on his heel and walked sharply away, leaving Vic shaking his head. Surprised at encountering a new way to hate his brother, when there were so many to choose from already.

“You certainly have a way with people, Jim,” he muttered.

I just hope I get to enjoy the show.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

I don’t care what fucking happens, Mystique thought. I’m getting lucky tonight.

And she shifted, the heavy body lying across her warm and comforting in the cell. Unfortunately still more clothed than she would like- But she could soon remedy that. Wolverine’s breath was rising and falling in gentle rhythm, her presence (or at least the illusion of Rogue’s presence) apparently enough to calm him into a quiet sleep. Well, that and the shit-load of anaesthetic they’d pumped into his bloodstream through the cuffs. Mystique traced her fingers across his chest, his abs, his arms: She was looking forward to this. After all, the prospect of getting Wolverine on his back was the only reason she’d stuck with this fucking gig this long. Truth was, she’d been fascinated by him from that first moment she saw him on Liberty Island: The sheer…ferocity of the man, the power and potential for destruction had taken her breath away. And the fact that the boy hadn’t exactly been tapped with the ugly stick certainly fucking helped. Mystique’s lips drew back in a feral grin at the thought: She’d wanted him for what felt like a lifetime, and now she could finally have him-

And afterwards she’d take great pleasure in showing him her true skin. In showing him just who he’d screwed screaming that parasite’s name.

He shifted in his sleep then. Arms tightening around her, like she really was that snivelling child she was pretending to be. Whispering that she wasn’t to worry, that he’d keep her safe. She rolled her eyes, disgusted: Was this what the little fucking parasite needed to be told every night? Did the girl they’d christened Mean-Streak after the Hulk-buster debacle require this much reassurance? For Chrissakes! She was tempted to let lose a pair of claws into him on general principles but she knew she couldn’t-After all, the purpose of this exercise was to drive him off the deep end, she’d have to work him up to the mental break-down. And besides, she hadn’t gotten any yet which meant she didn’t wanna ugly him up-

Since there was plenty of time for that later on.

She heard Vic enter the room then. Raven’s eyesight was impeccable, even in darkness: she could clearly see the huge blond standing, head cocked to the side and staring at her. He didn’t make any noise; even with the disruption of his healing factor and the amount of drugs in his system, they still couldn’t take a chance on Logan waking up and seeing them being friendly. The sonofabitch was smirking at her, and anyone with an ounce of sense could’ve told him that that was fucking unhealthy. He made a cooing face, mouthing Aaawww at her where she lay wrapped around Wolverine and she held one of her hands up, elegantly flipping her middle finger skywards.

He mimed putting his hand over his heart as if she’d broken it.

Despite herself she snorted with laughter. And then flipped him the other finger too.

Logan began to shift then, which was Victor’s cue to slip out. Perhaps he sensed the presence of another male, perhaps the drugs were wearing off but he was clearly coming out of it. She checked her appearance, made certain that she had Mean-Streak’s face right and let her eyes widen. Pasted a sickeningly innocent expression like the parasite would wear across her features. “Marie?” he muttered, his voice more focussed than it’d been in days, “You there, darlin’?”

She had to get the voice right. “Yeah, shuggs,” she murmured, “Ah am.” And she reached down, stroking his hair. Enjoying the feeling of his hand sliding up her cheek- Not that she’d ever admit it. He sat up, his long legs tangled in hers and Raven decided she liked where this was going.

A lot.

“Can you hear that?” he asked blearily.“My ears have been outta whack since they took me in but I swear I can hear something-” and he tried to shift out of her grasp, to stand. Rave tightened her legs about him- For fuck’s sake, this isn’t the sort of struggling I had in mind- and pouted.

“Ah can’t hear anything darlin’,” she murmured, letting her hand roam down his arm. Snaking across his back towards his ass. Nice. “But Ah was so scared in the dark- Ah thought Victor would come back and he’d- he’d-” She shook her head, as if the mere thought of screwing Sabre-tooth were too hideous to mention. Though she supposed it would mean she’d walk funny for days. “He said if Ah didn’t behave he’d take it out on your hide, shuggah.” And she buried her face in his chest, trying to keep her voice prissy and innocent since he seemed to like that shit so much. Praying the scent of her arousal over-rode the scent of her deceit. “He said he’d make you pay for what Ah did-”

“Don’t you think like that.” Wolverine took her chin between thumb and forefinger then, tilting her head upwards. His gaze so open and honest she thought she might puke. “He won’t ever touch you Marie,” he said tightly. “I promise. You don’t gotta worry about him.” And he twined his big blunt fingers around her wrist. Touching his forehead gently to hers, then his lips. It was so chaste it was almost cute. Raven reached upwards, kissing him more hungrily- call it my performance-related bonus but he’s putting out tonight- her hands sliding across his skin. But he was still distracted and she didn’t know whether to be infuriated or insulted-

“You sure you can’t you hear that?” he said again, frowning. “It sounds electronic, and I swear it’s getting nearer…”

And with that the metal asshole from Forge’s compound smashed through the wall at her side for the second time in 24 hours. Making with the grand entrance once again-

And ruining Raven’s chances of scoring tonight.

Oh, for Chrissakes people! she inwardly snarled, Don’t you know that I have needs?

Instantly Logan was in front of her, not touching her and not fucking her and unfortunately still completely dressed. Doing the growly, I’m Your Daddy thing which wasn’t what she wanted at all. The metal thing stood up, moving towards them and he started snarling, not liking an interloper on his turf. Mystique agreed: That metal bastard was such a pain in her ass that she’d have to eliminate him-

Unless of course Wolverine did it for her first.

It took less than a second for her to fake the injury: After all, she was covered in false cuts from when Vic had hauled her in, and her blood had been treated to smell like Marie’s. She manipulated her skin so that it looked like a large sliver of debris from the wall had pierced her torso, let her face grow pale and her breath begin to fade. Let her heart slow almost to a stop. A sweating brow, a wan, tremulous smile and she was finished: One dying parasite to go. She dropped backwards, Wolverine catching her, and did her bestest impression of Mean-Streak-

Because after all, she knew what that bitch looked like when she was at death’s door.

“Marie..?” Wolverine muttered, his hands going to the back of her head. Lowering her tenderly floor-ward. She felt a flare of disgust at how scared he sounded with her hurt. “Marie- Christ-” He looked around, calling for help. Calling to Victor that he’d do anything he wanted if he’d save his girl. The metal man tried to walk towards him, holding his hands out placatingly- And without a moment’s hesitation Logan slashed his still-free hand through the suit’s armour and into the man beneath.

Who yelped. Loudly.

Fucking pansy, Raven thought.

The metal dude backed up then. Swore. Moved the fuck away from the furious Wolverine and tried to get the feral calm. He was muttering in what he fondly imagined was a soothing voice that he’d come to get Logan, to free him- But the feral was beyond listening. He was swinging the metal chain which had once held him to the wall around, lashing his opponent with its length and keeping him back. Raven shot the newcomer a cheeky grin from her position behind him, letting him know that she was fine but when Wolverine looked back at her- She looked pale as the grave. Breathing one last, “Logan… Shuggah…” for good measure and then going fucking still.

“I’m toast,” the metal man muttered.

I agree, Raven thought.

Logan pulled himself free from his last cuff and popped both his claws then. Did that famous yelling-in-pain thing, which was enough to make even Victor pee his pants. If she hadn’t been playing dead Raven would have winced at the noise of it, but she was so she couldn’t. Instead she watched the fight through pretend-closed eyes-

And decided that even if she didn’t get lucky tonight she was gonna enjoy this show.

“Did you hear that?” Jubie muttered.

Stopping, wondering whether they were ever gonna find Wolvie since he wasn’t where Tony’s scans had said he was.

“Sure I did,” Kitty answered. Still in between the firecracker and Marie in case she had to phase the two. She could hear Logan’s battle-cry echoing through the base, and despite herself she felt a twinge of worry go through her: She’d nearly lost Marie back there, before she phased her through the wall. She didn’t want to lose Logan too. “So we gonna do something about it? Cos it sounds like sensei’s not in his happy place-”

“He’s not,” Marie muttered. “But we got this.” And with that all three rounded the corner to see the hole Tony had disappeared through-

Which was when the “monster,” smashed into Jubes.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

She was dying.

His Marie was dying. Just when he thought he’d gotten her back this idiotic sonofabitch had hurt her- Knocked bits of a building inta her-

And now the fucker was gonna pay.

Logan coiled the adamantium chain around his knuckles then, showing his teeth and narrowing his eyes. Pin-pointing every structural weakness in that suit of metal armour and going in fer the kill. He slashed at the joints, his adamantium more than a match for whatever compound the asshole had used in the suit. Twisting his claws like lock-picks and shorting out the circuitry nearest the surface. Then digging in and yanking it out wholesale. Making the suit useless, more of a hindrance than a help. The metal man tried to fight back but with the suit short-circuiting there was little he could do: Logan smashed his fist into the thing’s torso, sharp dirty jabs which knocked him back further before slashing his claws into the armour again. Peeling it apart like a tin can. He hissed as the pain of electrocution moved up his claws but he ignored it: it was only in the mind after all. And the pain he was gonna face when this was all over was way worse. The asshole was still yammering something about saving him but he wasn’t gonna buy that shit: Even through the haze of drugs he could smell the stink o’ the Blue Bitch off him, and he knew better than to think that thundercunt wanted to help him out-

“Logan,” the metal man muttered, “We have to get you out of here- Marie is waiting-”

“Don’t you fucking say her name, you sick prick,” he snarled. Swinging the chain at the metal man’s head and knocking him sideways. Then pummelling at him once again with chain-covered knuckles. He wondered why the dick wasn’t fighting back-

“She’s here, she’s right here and she came for you, man,” the metal moron muttered. “All your girls did. I swear, she’s hauling her Mean-Streak self up here as we speak-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me-”

And Logan launched himself wholesale at the man, wanting him to fight back. Needing him to be vicious and vindictive and a legitimate target. Because he needed to work this, this heart-wrung rage out on someone he’d the right to hurt-

And fortunately fer him this asshole fit the bill.

The metal man fell back then, bracing himself against the wall before turning his weaponry on him. Logan heard a muttered, “Next time I fit a tranq-gun to this fucking thing,” and then he was thrown backwards towards the wall. Some sorta repulsor beam knocking his adamantium ass flying. Within seconds he was on his feet, the effects of his injuries barely slowing him (and why the fuck wasn’t he healing?) but the metal man had done the prudent thing and made fer the exit. Using what was left of the suit’s technology to short the door out, open it and then slam it shut. That wasn’t gonna slow Logan down any though: His claws peeled through the doors like they were made of butter, tossing them aside with barely a thought. Speeding down the corridor after the murdering fuck who’d hurt his girl. Fer someone in a suit of armour the bastard could certainly run but Logan should have been easily able to catch up with him. In fact, he did do, getting out of the corridor just in time to see the metal man smash through a wall and make a break fer it-

And at that moment the Blue Bitch darted into the chamber.

Firing some guard’s gun and wearing Marie’s fucking face.

Behind her were replicas of Kitty and Jubie, also stinking of the Blue Bitch-

And something in Logan snapped at the sight.

He smashed into the three women, taking out the fake Jubes and Kitty first then heading for Mystique. Slamming into her, knocking her onto her back and straddling her. Taking in the stink of the metal man and eau de Blue Bitch which clung to her skin. Ignoring the hint of Marie’s own scent which he detected underneath. That wasn’t gonna fool him. He knew what he’d seen. He forced her back against the floor, his hands going around her throat and squeezing. The pleasure of hurting a person who’d helped hurt Marie giving him fresh strength. Her eyes widened- She looked so like Marie, how the fuck could she look so like Marie?- and she put one gloved hand against his where he held her. Tried to remove the glove and touch him skin on skin but he held the bitch down. Snarling, his anger beyond what words could tell of it-

And behind him he heard Vic start clapping. Saw his brother smiling at the scene. “I think Jimmy boy there likes you, stripes,” Creed muttered-

“Or should I say Mystique?”

And he darted away from them, snickering at what he’d given away. As usual leaving someone else to clean up his fucking mess. The Blue Bitch’s eyes widened- clearly she was put out with the idea that she’d been shopped by her partner in crime- and she began to swear fluently. Struggling, gazing beseechingly up at Logan, one hand still on the one that was squeezing her throat. She was hissing and gurgling, trying to talk but he ignored her: He couldn’t bear to hear that bitch talk to him in Marie’s voice-

And then she said it.

“What kind-” she muttered, breath rasping. “What kind of a name is Rogue?”

What?

Through the pain of loss and torture and the drugs the memory of that first day he’d met her bubbled up through his mind: Brown eyes, black gloves, sass though she was clearly terrified o’ life on the road. And that gaze that had always seemed to look straight through him. Through all the bullshit and the rage and the doubt. But she couldn’t be- she wasn’t- How did she know that?

“I don’t know,” he whispered. Easing the pressure on her throat a little. “What kind of a name is Wolverine?”

“Logan..?” she murmured, eyes tearing up beneath him.

“Marie,” he answered, burying his nose in her neck. Finally taking her scent, letting it envelope him as her arms went around his shoulders, her lips against his throat. She was crying and he tightened his arms around her, instinct just like always telling him to take her pain away. That he’d nearly fucking killed her-

Jesus.

He moved so she could sit up, his hands trailing across her face, thumb at those lips he’d missed so much. Holding her face in his hands. She looked thinner, tired and more careworn than he remembered and he silently wondered what had done that to his girl. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes, heart-beat pounding- And then, just as he was about to smile and tell her how happy he was to see her she reached up and smacked the side of his head. Shifting him unceremoniously offa her legs and kicking him where he lay.

“You asshole,” she snapped.

Yup, she was definitely his Marie.

His other two girls recovered then. They took one look at him and Rogue and pointedly looked away, everything about their body-language screaming I ain’t touching that with a ten foot barge-pole before falling back. Kit nodded to him, tossing him a gun and gesturing behind her with a hand. “Ready to go, sensei?” she asked him, like it was any other mission about to turn south. He nodded, ignoring the pain in his chest, in his arms, in his body. Focussing on getting his three girls the fuck outta Dodge and not the pounding of drugs he could still feel in his head. The three darted out, forming a perimeter around him and began moving forward. Marie’s hand brushing his fer a fraction of a second before moving off. They were heading towards the exit, alert sirens blaring, following the trail of man-shaped holes that metal dick had left in his wake like a bread crumb trail-

And just when they saw light ahead he realised someone was standing in their path- Make that three someones. Mystique was grinning at them, her expression viciously amused. Vic was doing likewise, arms crossed in front of him beside another man-

Who looked a lot like him.

Smelt a lot like him too.

What the fuck?

“You’re not going anywhere,” the stranger informed them then.

“Oh, ain’t I?” he snarled. Dropping his stance and getting ready to fight. The three looked more amused than anything, but Logan didn’t give a shit: They were getting outta here now. Marie and Jubes both copied his stance, their powers gearing up and surreptitiously moving in front of Kitty-

And without another word Pryde ran through the wall to her right. Disappearing without a trace.

“Aw, we scared her,” Vic jeered.

Jubie’s grin grew more wolfish. “Hell no, Farrah,” she said. “That’s not it. Chica’s just gone to get us a ride.”

And without further ado she paffed the sonofabitch.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Walk away,” Logan muttered then.

Lowering his stance, his lips drawn back in a snarl. Flicking the adamantium chain viciously in front of him, keeping the two men at bay. Jubes was grinning flirtatiously at the newcomer, her paffs flashing along her fingertips like fireworks, eyes narrowed. Most people thought she did it to look tough but Marie knew better: the paffs went where Jubes told ’em to, so if she imagined one going off inside your brain-

Well, guess what happened.

Not that the newcomer looked worried about that.

“So how does it feel to know you’ve lured your entire family into trap?” the dark-haired man asked then. “Are you proud?” And he grinned, showing sharp teeth. Two claws edging from between his knuckles, one moving forward from his wrist. Marie was pretty sure he was some sort of clone, because he looked so much like her old ma- Because he looked so much like Wolverine. And the claws just screamed Duh. But he hadn’t a trace of Logan’s…steadiness about him. His kindness or his warmth. The newcomer reminded her more of a mean, jittery dog-

The kind that attacked anything that moved just because it could.

But he wasn’t done with the goading. “I’m going to paint your cell with their blood, you know,” the newcomer growled, “The last thing you see is gonna be that bitch,” and he gestured to Marie, “On her hands and knees and begging me for your life-”

And then, just as he’d intended, Logan went for him.

Bleeding, half alive and not even fucking healing, and Logan went for him.

Marie fought the urge to her eyes: He was going to get himself fucking killed and not for the first time she didn’t know whether she wanted to deck him or kiss him-

She darted forward then, phasing herself through both Victor and the other man to brace her hands on Logan’s chest and push him out of the way. She couldn’t help herself: He couldn’t engage two opponents at once, he was too injured. And besides she was hardly gonna play the damsel in distress. Sensation burst into life beneath her fingers as they made contact, both of them tumbling together until they smashed into the wall behind. The weight of his body familiar and scorching against hers. For a split second it was like the last two years had never happened, like that red-haired barfly had never happened, like Callum had never even existed, because he was here and alive and his body was against hers and it didn’t get much better than that, there was nothing else in sweet creation could hold a candle to that-

“Do we look like we fucking have time for this, people?” Jubes hollered. “That’s what angry post-mission sex is for! Now haul ass!”

And she paffed all three of their opponents, momentarily blinding them before rounding on Mystique.

Both Marie and Logan jumped to their feet as if they’d been electrocuted then, him snarling at her questioningly while she shot him her best We got a problem bub? Look. “What the fuck..?” he demanded, but before she could answer the newcomer grabbed her by her hair, yanking him towards her. Marie kneed him in the balls good and hard and he snarled, tossing her floor-wards. Trying to kick at her head and chest but within seconds she was on her feet, jabbing at him and driving him back. Diverting his attention from her Loga- From the Wolverine.

And buying Kitty more time.

Logan swore colourfully, realising he’d have to let her play this one. Darting out of the way and engaging Sabre-tooth even as the newcomer made a grab for her torso, trying to lift her up. She slugged him, dropping her weight backward and then swinging her leg around for a mean round-house kick. Then another and another. Realising as her foot made contact with his jaw that he hadn’t an adamantium skeleton at least: the crunch she felt suggested bone. By this point Logan and Creed were fighting bare-knuckle, Logan pummelling at the massive blond with adamantium-chained knuckles and swinging onto the other man’s back to twine the chain around Creed’s throat. Tightening the garrotte painfully while Creed, being Creed, laughed. Jubes was just as busy, grabbing a sliver of metal piping from the wall Stark had demolished when he made his escape and swinging it around in readiness. Remy had taught her how to use his staff about a month after they began dating, and now she was even more lethal with it than her husband: More than one Interpol agent had had their ass kicked by Jubilation LeBeau. She swung the weapon, bringing it down on Mystique’s now prone body, the strength of the blows cracking the concrete at their feet. The weapon pounding against the Porn Smurf’s ribs and chest, cracking her cheekbone then her nose. Turned out, the Bitch didn’t bleed blue, who’da thunk it? Chica set off three paffs in Mystique’s face, causing the Porn Smurf to fall back and hiss in pain. Another two going off under her skin, the burning coloured lights showing oddly against that talented blue flesh. Mystique fell backwards, curling in on herself in pain and Jubes brought the pipe down in a flash onto her knee-caps-

At which point Mystique muttered “Fuck this shit,” and made for the exit. Flipping Jubie the finger as she went and blowing Logan a kiss.

“Ew,” Marie, Jubes and Creed all muttered.

And now it was three on two.

Which was to put it mildly better fucking odds. Jubilee focussed her attention on Creed- Not surprising, she knew what he was capable of whereas the newcomer was an unknown quantity- both her and Logan working on the massive feral. Marie still fighting doggedly with the Logan-alike bastard who’d drawn them here, though she knew she was losing ground. It wasn’t even that he was faster than her and more flexible, (She’d been out of action two years and for the first time it was starting to show.) It was the fact that he didn’t seem to be tiring: Marie could feel her endurance trailing away while he was still going strong. Her blows were winding him but not putting him down. She dropped, spinning on her back heel and knocking her leg into the back of his knees, sending him sprawling even as she pulled one glove free, preparing to use her mutation. She didn’t like the idea of having this bastard in her cranium, but it was the only thing she could think to slow him down with and they needed to know whether he was solo or working a paid gig. With one bare hand she grabbed the bastard’s throat, her fingers digging into his skin viciously while he smiled up at her-

And then suddenly she felt… it.

Something unlike any transfer of power she’d ever experienced before. Something that roared through her with the strength of a hurricane, crushing anything resembling rational thought in its wake. Images, feelings, desires. A lava-hot rush of adrenaline and sheer unadulterated lust searing through her veins. She’d never experienced anything like it: It was as if everything but the urge to make the beast with two backs had been driven from her mind and all she could bear to do was, was-

Logan. She wanted Logan. Now.

Without a second thought she kicked the newcomer off her like he was made of paper. Rounding on her former sensei and yanking his mouth to hers. Her hands going effortless under his shirt to rake them skin, the scent of him in her nostrils, the feel of him under her hands. Against her hips as she wrapped her legs around his waist. The kiss was everything they’d always been to one another, hot and reckless and passionate and Jesus but they did not have time for this- She knew they didn’t have time for this but fuck if she could stop herself- So good, it felt so fucking good-

He pulled her roughly away.

Breathing hard, hands squeezing her. Those hazel eyes she knew so well hooded and hot and fuck but if they hadn’t had an audience she knew where this would have gone. Where given a moment’s incentive it still might go. Marie didn’t know what’d come over her: what the fuck was she thinking? They were working a jailbreak for heaven’s sake! But all she could feel was her heartbeat, the drive to take what was hers- And he was hers- and wipe the memory of every other woman he’d encountered since they’d been apart away. She was even growling. Jubes was staring at her like she’d never seen her, Logan doing likewise-

And at that precise moment she realised that the newcomer had done this on purpose.

Because he’d used her little lust fest (and the distraction it caused) to make his escape.

Creed’s face was suspiciously angelic. “You gotta admire the artistry o’ that,” he muttered. “The Boss-man does good work, don’t he Jimmy boy-?”

And that when Kitty phased the SUV through the wall beside them.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Chica,” Jubes growled, “This is not Pay Per View!”

And without a moment’s hesitation she paffed Marie, the explosion just enough to make her stumble backwards and away from Logan. Also enough to remind Logan just who he was holding and how pissed she’d be at him later if he continued feeling her up. Because no matter what she was hollering now- and Christ was she hollering- whenever she came back to her right mind she’d be furious if he’d tried to take advantage when she wasn’t in control. Logan had been around her enough when she was fighting a new presence in her noggin fer control to recognise the signs: She’d gotten too turned on and too vicious too quick fer it to be natural. Or healthy. And the woman in his arms mighta looked like his Marie but she sure as Hell wasn’t acting like her: Much as he might like the idea that she simply couldn’t stand being without him he knew that momentary, mutation-related trauma was a far more likely explanation-

And he vowed to himself that if that bastard had done anything permanent to her he’d skin him alive on general fucking principles.

Marie began growling again then, her little hands raking at his chest and arms, that low-down Southern drawl murmuring the filthiest sweet nothings he’d ever heard. Yet more proof that his girl wasn’t in charge right now because despite the kick-ass tendencies she was still pretty much a Southern Belle when she had an audience. Logan took her wrists, forcing her hands downwards and then locking them against her chest, insuring that she couldn’t hurt herself and that if she stumbled backwards he’d be there to cushion her fall. Tried not to notice the scent of her arousal- there were times when he hated his fucking nose- or the way she seemed so happy to see him fer someone who, far as he knew, wanted his head on a plate. “It’s alright,” he muttered, “It’s alright, darlin’-” he began rocking her- “You try t’relax now, I got ya-”

She twisted, trying to turn those massive chocolate brown eyes on him. “Do you?” she asked, her voice breathless. Jesus he’d missed it. “Do you have me? Ah thought you did but-” Suddenly something, some painful memory flashed across her face and she squeezed her eyes shut. Curled in tighter on herself, shaking her head as the arousal in her scent was drowned out by fear. “Oh God,” she muttered, “Oh God, he’s in here- Ah can feel him-” She began shaking and Logan held her tighter, trying to remind her that she was okay and he had her. That she was safe in her own skin. “Daken,” she muttered, “His name is Daken, and he’s-” She looked sharply up at him, her face wide in shock. “He hates you so much,” she whispered. “Ah can’t see why but he hates you so much…” And too quick fer him to stop her she twisted outta his grasp, her arms going around his neck and pulling him close to her. She buried her head in the crook of his neck just like she used to do whenever she’d nearly lost him on a mission but he came home safe. Despite everything Logan felt that surge of protectiveness and love wash through him as she did it: He’d have endured a year of that cell and the Blue Bitch if he’d known she was waiting fer him at the end of it-

“Aw,” Vic cooed then, “Ain’t that cute.” And he shot them pair of them his most vicious sneer. “Gotta hand it t’ya, Jimmy, ya always did have a way with the ladies-”

“And you always did have a way with the feather-cut, Farrah,” Jubie snapped. “Now we have a couple of questions, and then you can go.” It was typical Jubes, Logan mused, eyes always on the prize- Or the mission. Taking point so he could take care of Marie. The firecracker nodded to Kitty who gunned the SUV’s engine. “Now who hired you?”

“Santa Clause.” ‘Tooth made a mock-scared face at Jubes rolled eyes. “C’mon, you know confidentiality is part o’ the deal. Couldn’t afford to get a reputation as a blabber-mouth in my business.” Kitty geared the engine up a little more at his answer and his smile widened, his claws lengthening in readiness fer a fight. He seemed to have forgotten that the littlest ninja had kicked the shit outta him in their last engagement: it was one of the better things about being able to keep the rest of your body phased while your fist was making its way inta Sabre-tooth’s teeth. “Whatcha gonna do?” Creed was snickering. “Run me over with that little car o’ yours baby? You could smash a Harrier Jet inta me an’ it wouldn’t do a lick o’ good-”

Without warning Kitty put her foot to the pedal, driving the car straight into him.

Phasing it as she went.

There was a word fer Creed’s situation and that word was FUCKED.

It took a split second before ’Tooth to realise what kind of trouble he was in but he wised up quick-sharp. Logan could tell by the way his expression went from butch-and-growly to butch-and-wetting-his-pants-but-trying-not-to-show-it in under a second. Even Marie seemed to notice how worried the sonofabitch was. Creed tried to skitter out of the way but it did no good: if Kitty’d phased the SUV through a wall then phasing it through his legs wouldn’t be difficult. Though of course the real fun would come if she decided to un-phase the car while he was still knee-deep in its hood. Pryde bore the vehicle down on him, pinning him between the steering wheel and the cell wall behind him, trapping him (literally) between a rock and a soon-to-be-hard-place. Making to move the hand she’d placed on the steering wheel away and solidifying the car once she had him trapped-

And shit but he tried to calm down then. Since Sabre-Tooth was a lotta things but suicidal wasn’t one of ’em.

Kit grinned brightly, showing ’Tooth that she knew just how fucked he was: No matter how fast his reflexes, he’d never make it out of the car’s chassis before she solidified the metal and cut him in two. It probably wouldn’t kill him but hey, you never know. And one way or another it would hurt like fuck. Vic bared his teeth at her, taking the realisation that he was trapped the way he usually did, with murderous rage. There was a pinch of abject terror, but fer the most part it was murderous rage. “Well look at that,” he snarled, “Hello fucking Kitty grew a pair.” Pryde’s smile turned angelic. “Fine,” he bit out. “Whaddaya wanna know, bitch?”

“What do I want to know… Miss Bitch?”

“Fuck you!”
“Vickie, you know I don’t go for blondes.” He hissed in rage. “Now who hired you? Because you didn’t come up with this on your own-”

“You think I couldn’t have planned this?”

“I think you couldn’t have financed it.” Jubes nodded in agreement. “Underground bunkers fitted out with adamantium don’t come cheap. Hair care products don’t come cheap when you’re fighting those kinda split ends either, and you’re knee-deep in both. So what gives?” She edged the car closer again. “Was that asshole who hurt Marie your boss or are you still on errand boy duties? And please don’t lie to me, Victor: Logan here will be able to tell if you do-”

Creed sighed like a martyr then.

Realising that he was gonna have to play ball if he wanted outta this in one piece. “Look,” he began, “I don’t know much. I never found out who the boss-man reported to-”

Jubes narrowed her eyes. “But he did report to someone?”

“He mighta-” Kitty moved her pinkie finger from the steering wheel with deliberation and he rushed on- “I mean, yeah, he did report to someone. Every day, gave progress reports, told him how the runt reacted to his medication. I even heard him offering to test the stuff on hisself before he dosed Jimmy with it.” Jubie opened her mouth and he spoke over her. “And no, I don’t know why. All I can tell you is that it was a man’s voice. Didn’t recognise it, didn’t wanna.” He crossed his massive forearms, some of his former bravado reappearing. “Now let me the fuck outta here, Miss Bitch, before I-”

But Creed didn’t get to finish.

Because at that moment his gaze went over Kitty’s shoulder to take in the man standing behind her. The man who woulda looked kinda like Tony Stark- If Stark had just spent a year in Hell. The billionaire was staggering towards them, his wife’s broken form cradled tightly against his chest. “I found her,” he was muttering, “I found Emma…” But nobody was looking at Stark. Their gaze was riveted on the skin of Frost’s arm- Where someone had carefully carved six words into the skin.

One down, it read, three to go- Wolverine.

“Like Ah said,” Marie muttered, “He really does hate ya, shuggs.”

And with that she passed out.

Stark was right where he wanted him.

Daken knew that once he reported to his superiors there would be Hell to pay for this debacle- He’d let the Wolverine and his little bitches escape, let the compound be compromised. But he wouldn’t be in the doghouse for long, not with this new…development in hand. The young feral’s smile grew wider as he heard the girls murmur words of condolence to the billionaire: By the time Tony Stark realised just how many people he’d just sold down the river up there Daken would have the revenge he’d always wanted. Would have shown the world what a pathetic fake the Wolverine actually was. His smile widened as he imagined how much suffering he could still inflict on Logan and that little family of his-

Because this was all about family after all…

He was still smiling when he caught the red-eye from Vegas and headed back to New York.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“I swear chica, you keep this shit up an’ I’m paffing the pair of you.”

And Jubes let a couple of her fireworks dance across the edge of her knuckles, just to show that she meant business. Also tightened her grip on the steering-wheel of the SUV, since driving this baby was a whole lot more complicated when you had a super-strong, sexed-up mutant in the back seat trying to pull her ex’s clothes off. And it wasn’t like that ex was putting up much of a fight. As expected her threat had exactly zero impact on either Marie or her very public quest to get Wolvie’s belt-buckle open: Chica just kept chasing that rainbow, whatever elements of that Daken dude’s personality being forced from the fore by good ole-fashioned hormones. Soon as she’d woken up she’d started making with the grabby and nothing anyone said seemed to slow her down. Whatever the Daken dude had dosed her with was powerful- Though Jubes silently wondered whether Marie was playing up the horny so that she didn’t have to deal with yet another wicked, humanity-hating presence in her head. Rogue made another pass, causing Logan to yelp- “Hands in private places, darlin’!” And despite the gravity of the situation she saw Kitty bite her cheek in amusement. Jubes fought the urge to roll her eyes: It wasn’t that she objected to Marie and Logan getting down and dirty- in fact, once they got back to the Mansion she had a few schemes to make that skank Callum totally of the past- She just didn’t enjoy trying to drive a getaway vehicle with the pair of them getting so fucking gymnastic.

It hadn’t worked during the Murdoch extraction two years ago and it sure as Hell wasn’t gonna work now.

Despite herself her gaze was drawn to Stark then. He was staring into space, his expression lost and haunted, his hands still streaked with his wife’s blood. Jubes would have thought he’d want to keep Emma with him but he’d wrapped her in a blanket they found in the boot and then trudged into the car, not saying a word to anyone. Staring at his wrecked, metal-covered hands like they could give him an answer to what he’d found back there. Jubes couldn’t blame him: The loss would hit anyone hard. But it was downright creepy to see the normally mouthy, devil-may-care billionaire so shattered. For a split second Jubes considered how she’d react if anything ever happened to Remy but instantly she forced the thought down-

Death could keep her grubby paws to herself when it came to her husband. If she had to drag his ass outta Hades with her bare hands, she’d make sure her Gambit was safe til the day she died.

The turn off to the X-Ranch came up on their right then, and Jubes gunned it. The impact tossing Marie into Logan’s lap and making the pair grin at their new position. And once again, Wolvie, getting the impression that you’re not trying very hard to fight her off. Jubes heaved a silent sigh of relief: The sooner they got to Stacey’s the better. She had to call the Mansion, brief Hank and Storm, see if Stark wanted them to contact anyone. She remembered the red-head she’d seen at his office the day Marie threatened him and she wondered if that was the infamous Pepper Potts; She’d have to ask, see if he had a number for her because the boy genius wasn’t in any state to handle transporting a corpse himself. Beside her Marie gave another growl, her hands having (once again) slipped free from Wolvie’s grasp and started roaming. Logan grabbed them again, giving her his sternest look and Rogue darted forward, kissing him lightly on the nose. Giggling.

“This is gonna get really old, really quick, isn’t it?” Jubes muttered to herself.

“Of course it is,” Kitty answered. Still smirking. “But for the time being it’s entertaining so maybe we should just go with the flow.” Rogue let out a sound, somewhere between a growl and a squeal, which not even Jubes knew she was capable of making and despite herself a small smile split her face.

“Hey, at least chica’s happy,” she murmured, “and that’s not a common situation-”

“No, it’s not,” Stark said from his seat beside her then. His eyes still on his hands. Jubes wondered why he hadn’t said anything to Logan and Marie about their behaviour- after all, it wasn’t exactly respectful of his emotional state- but he hadn’t. Just stared ahead of him… Which she belatedly realised was a bit weird. She and Kitty exchanged a pointed look and the Kitten leaned back, giving Logan and Marie her attention while Jubes whispered confidentially, “Do you want me to paff them? Because I will, it just might not slow ’em down any…”

But Stark shook his head. He was smiling this tight, sad smile that seemed to carry the weight of the world in it. “They’re happy,” he told her softly. “Once this is over, they’ll be together and they’ll make one another happy. I’m not enough of an asshole to begrudge them that, Mrs. LeBeau.”

She shook her head. “It’s Jubes… Tony.” He shot her a tiny smile. “And you’ve just lost your wife so if you wanna-”

“I lost Emma a long time ago,” he spoke over her. Anger and then guilt flickering across his face. “You might say I lost her the day I asked her to marry me. But what happened back there is my burden, not theirs.” And he shot Marie and Logan an odd look, the expression…longing. They were damn hard to be around when you had a broken heart, Jubes knew that, but this was different. This was almost… guilty. And again with the weirdness. “He’ll protect her, won’t he?” Stark asked suddenly.

“If she’ll let him.” Which Jubilee knew was a mighty big If these days.

“Then they’ve nothing to apologise for.” And a small smile flitted across his face, like he was remembering something. Probably something to do with his wife. Jubes decided to leave well alone and give him some space for his grief, pulling back and staring at the road. Leaving Kitty to stage-manage the back-seat skin show and make sure nothing got removed or inserted while they still had an audience… Though experience told Jubes that was easier said than done. The firecracker put her foot down, speeding as fast as she dared to the X-Ranch, already planning who she’d call first (she felt a sudden longing to talk to Remy) and what she’d say. How she’d handle things. She left Stark alone for the rest of the trip there-

And in the boot of the SUV something sounded. A breath being taken, heat returning to flesh that had too long been cold. The blanket moved, its occupant struggling to stretch after too much confinement-

I really should get over-time for this shit, Mystique thought.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Mystique popped the trunk of the SUV, kicked her way out of the blanket.. Took a deep breath and signalled Daken and their superiors that she was on her way inside. Pausing to grin as she imagined the feral’s petulant, recently demoted face, The meta-morph craned her neck, stretching, trying to work out some of the kinks while she planned her attack on all four targets-

Statues do not move.

Montgomery Hanson knew that statues didn’t move just like he knew that the sky was blue and his wife would fucking kill him if she got a look at their visa bill next week. But the Regional Sales Rep (Eastern Division) for Soul Style Shoes could swear that the smug, rotund Buddha sitting ten feet from him had moved since he’d come out here for a smoke-

And three seconds later he had his observation proven right when said Buddha brought its marble-like hand down on his head and knocked him unconscious. Reaching down and stealing his VIP room key and wallet before kicking him soundly in the nuts. The last thing Monty would remember before he passed out from pain was the sight of that Buddha grinning nastily down at him-

Although later he would wonder why it had glowing yellow eyes…

Jubes smiled, stretching out across the warm bench and willing the tension to drain out of her. Adjusting her towel where it was falling down and wiping her dark hair out of her eyes. For the first time in days she felt calm, happy: After all, they’d gotten Wolvie outta Dodge and managed to drag Marie’s (admittedly still hormonal ass) to safety. Not a bad day’s work, even if she did say so herself. And once Roguey slept off whatever that bastard Daken had dosed her with Jubes would set to work getting the Wolvster and her girl back together. because from what she’d seen of that Callum asshole chica did not choose wisely when left to her own devices-

Although of course she’d never openly tell Marie that: She had some sense of self-preservation.

So Jubes let out a contented sigh: Marie was stalking back into the fold, Wolvie was on the mend (he’d let her paff that electronic thing the Porn Smurf had stuck in his neck) and while Daken might be planning on killing her and her girls horribly, well if you had a problem with being on somebody’s hit-list then Jubes knew her occupation was not for you. Anymore than her hobbies were. Besides, if the Logan-alike wanted to try hurting her family he was welcome to try it: Logan’s Angels had defeated all comers more than once, and she had no doubt they’d do it again-

So if there were explosions and carnage in her future, she guessed they would just have to wait.

Jubes heard the door to the sauna open then. Heard light footsteps padding through the gym to her right, pausing (she guessed) to collect a towel. The years with Logan and Remy had taught her to pay attention to her surroundings at all times but this didn’t set her Wolvie-sense a-tingling: It was probably one of the girls taking a break between clients. After all, you needed a VIP swipe card to get into this part of the Ranch. The door to the sauna opened and a dark, male-shaped shadow appeared, wearing nothing but a towel; Instantly Jubie sat up, not wanting to deal with some grabby customer of Stacey’s. The newcomer watched her pull her towel more tightly about her (for some reason she felt self-conscious under his gaze) but he said nothing. Just let her push by him slightly more tightly then was necessary-

And as soon as she’d turned her back on him he brought a heavy, marble-like hand down on her head. Twice.

Jubes felt the crack of stone hitting bone, saw stars dancing behind her vision. Tried to turn around and fight but her opponent was ready for her, swinging a well-placed punch into her solar plexus before sweeping at the backs of her knees. She went flying, the dampness of the sauna wrecking her balance; a second after her ass hit the floor she felt a needle tear into her neck, dosing her with something that felt like the seventies. Making her gaze black out and her head swim and her tongue feel like wool. She peered up at her attacker, trying to fight off the drug-

And for some reason she could not fathom, Tony Stark’s face was staring back at her.

Her last conscious thought before he grabbed her was sonofafuckingbitch.

Jesus Trejas watched in amusement as Tony Stark dragged that little Asian piece of ass he came here with down the service stairs. Trying to keep both her hands gripped and away from his face (she seemed to be a bit of a Hellcat, this one) while she rambled drunkenly about “her Wolvie,” and how she was gonna kick his ass. The janitor shook his head, wondering idly how much a girl had to drink to get herself that wasted-

And he was so busy laughing at her condition that he didn’t pause to wonder why a billionaire with a VIP suite in the X-Ranch would be dragging an apparently defenceless young woman down into the basement. It was precisely this lack of curiosity that led to Jesus being left alive to finish his shift-

Because after all, Mystique didn’t like leaving loose ends.

But she liked hiding bodies even less.

They’d finally gotten Marie into bed.

Kitty leaned back in her seat, running her finger along the edge of her wine glass and enjoying the sheer lack of Logan-on-Marie drama inherent in this moment. Wondering how long it would be before she saw Pyotr and whether she should buy that teddy she’d seen in the Ranch’s lobby just to get her welcome home party started. Pryde took another well-deserved sip of her pinot noir, trying to de-stress: Rogue had caused absolute chaos from the moment she stepped inside the X-Ranch until the moment they’d gotten her into her room, what with the trying to get Logan’s clothes off, trying to take her clothes off, attempting to beat up those of Stacey’s customers who thought she, Logan and the other two chicks in black leather were some sorta floor-show and then suddenly crying because she saw the metal jack spiked into Logan’s neck and “her Logan,” was hurt. She’d even rounded on a couple of (now fortunately too terrified to sue) patrons who apparently looked at “her Logan,” funny-

And of course it had been Kitty who’d had to smooth things over. Because Jubes was apparently too busy explaining to the LVPD how to hone in on the tracking device they’d tagged Sabre-Tooth with and Logan-Well, Logan was having enough trouble keeping his hands to himself without asking him to do anything complicated like actually, you know, helping-

And once again she took another sip of her wine.

“This seat taken?” she heard a familiar voice ask then. She looked up to see Logan staring at her, his stance more relaxed than usual, his hands splayed at his sides. He was looking at her weirdly, speculatively, and despite herself Kitty felt a thrill of unease go through her- But immediately she shook it off.

“Sure, sensei,” she told him. “You’re always welcome to join me. Just didn’t think I’d see you here.” She frowned. “Marie’s okay, isn’t she?”

“Sure,” he rumbled, “Marie’s gonna be just fine.” And he sat down, nodding to the barman and ordering a vodka tonic. (And since when did sensei drink that stuff?) Going to place one hand on the bar and accidentally brushing it off hers. That speculative gaze raking over her and then quickly looking away. Kit frowned: Sensei seemed to be sitting a Helluva lot closer to her than he normally would do, and he also seemed to be- Jeez, was he sniffing her?- Looking at her the way he usually looked at barflies before he made his move. She felt a flash of hot embarrassment go through her because whatever adolescent attraction she’d once had to him had long since run its course and this was downright weird-

And besides, wasn’t he usually worried about Marie at a time like this? Spending his time at her bedside, growling at anything that looked at her sideways?

Kit felt another thrill of alarm go through her at the thought.

“I don’t feel well,” she murmured then. Trying to stand up, holding onto the bar for support and wondering why her head suddenly felt so light. Also wondering why she was toppling forward, why strong arms were catching her before she smashed her head on the bar. The room swan even as Logan stood up, supporting her and mouthing light weight drinker to the barman before carrying her out. His hand- and this was the creepiest part of all- snaking around to cop a feel of her ass as he carried her through the door. The barman picked up her glass, throwing it towards the dishwasher without even looking at it, his mind on whether the Cardinals were gonna suck in the game tonight and cost him his rent money-

So it’s not all that surprising that he didn’t notice the white tablet slowly dissolving at the bottom of the glass….

Daken smiled widely, shutting off his phone. Grinning at the young woman before him and letting his claws glean wickedly in the light. He strolled over to Tony’s fridge, pulling out a bottle of beer and holding it up to her in toast. Savouring it. He had to allow that it really didn’t get much better than this, despite his recent…employment issues-

“Your boyfriend’s doing wonderfully, Pepper,” he told the young woman then. Enjoying the way his voice seemed to make her skin crawl. The way the scent of her fear was wafting intoxicatingly about the room. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t do anything rash like try to grow a pair-”

Pepper snorted. “He won’t do.”

“Then we’ve nothing to worry about, so we, Miss Potts?”

And he stared out into the lights of Malibu, his smile widening-

While in the X-Ranch a woman with white streaks in her hair and an absolutely unique mutation opened her eyes to a Wolverine.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

She couldn’t breath.

The bitch was squeezing at her throat, trying to throttle the life out of her and Marie knew she just had to let her. Just had to make sure that she held on a little longer before she landed the killing blow. All around her she could hear the sounds of Manhattan, the scream and whisper of traffic but here in the parking lot nobody could hear. Nobody could stop her. Marie- no, not Marie, this wasn’t her memory- Marie let her heart-beat slow, let her breathing grow shallow. Even let the bitch push past her outer defences and into her mind for a spell. She- he, Marie told herself more desperately, this was Daken, not her- He let his body fall slack, let his hands drop to his sides like the bitch had bested him. Even pretended to respond to the telepathic orders she placed in his mind. Frost pushed ahead, heedless of danger now she thought she was in control and there, in the spot where she should have found the information she needed- She found the image of a jack-in-the-box.

Marie opened her eyes with a gasp.

Heartbeat pounding, body dripping in sweat. Feeling like she’d run a mile- if she didn’t crawl out of her skin first. For a second she was completely disorientated- Where the Hell was she and why was she naked?- but even as she tried to calm herself she felt something shift in the bed beside her. Make that someone- Someone hairy and growly and at the moment (by the smell of him) worried as all get out. She frowned into the darkness, hot recognition trickling through her veins like honey in July-

And then, as she’d known he would, Logan opened his eyes. Looked at her.

His gaze doing the sorts of things to her insides that Preacher Morgan always said led to a long stay in Hell.

Well, fuck.

“You okay, darlin’?” he muttered then. His tone protective, arms pulling her more tightly against his chest there where they lay together. He was stroking calming circles on her back like there was nothing strange at all about this situation, about the two of them curling together without a stitch between them and daylight a memory in their wake. Marie opened her mouth to reply but nothing would come out; It was like her brain had decided to freeze up-

But no, that wasn’t right, her brain hadn’t frozen up any. There was just so much heat in her body right now that she thought she might spontaneously combust.

And again, she thought, with the fuck.

Logan released her then, when she didn’t answer. Just sat up and gently laid one of those big heavy hands of his against her cheek, touching his forehead to hers before pulling away. Watching her but giving her space. Without meaning too Marie made a small moue of disappointment at his withdrawal and it was only then that she realised she had been crying: She could feel the wetness of her tears against the dryness of his hand. Feel the ghost of Daken still moving beneath her skin. She tried to drag her mind back to the nightmare, knowing that it probably contained much-needed intel’ but she couldn’t: Her brain wouldn’t let her process it. Which meant that whatever she’d gotten from the bastard would be inaccessible for at least a few more days-

And which also meant she was gonna have to deal with the current situation, since she couldn’t plead crisis management to make a break for another room.

“You wanna talk about it?” Logan asked quietly then. “Bin waiting fer ya t’come back to us, darlin’… You were crying in your sleep until I got in here with ya… ” And his voice trailed off, his other hand rubbing wryly at the back of his neck though pointedly not explaining their lack of clothing. Again she tried to answer (Why in Hell wouldn’t her tongue work?) but she couldn’t: All she seemed able to do was lean into him, letting her weight shift against his chest until his body flushed warmly against hers. He seemed to understand, tucking her head underneath his chin and wrapping his big, heavy arms around her. Rocking her softly like he used to whenever they’d gone and nearly lost one another in the field. Marie dropped her eyes downwards and as she did so she noticed the cuts on his knuckles. Realised that the spaces where the claws came out had been treated with disinfectant and patched up but hadn’t actually healed any-

He saw her looking and tried to move his hands away. “It’s nothing, Marie,” he told her, “Just a scratch’r something-”

“Then why hasn’t it healed?” Oh, so now her voice worked.

“It will do, darlin’.” Logan was as close as he ever came to squirming. “It’s just gonna take time because o’ what Mystique did to me-”

“What did she do?” And something inside Marie, the last trace of whatever possessive, hormonal thing Daken had dosed her with, growled angrily. Told her to find the Blue Bitch and pound her three ways till Sunday for the harm done to her mate. Logan tried to move away again and she blocked him, cocking a questioning an eyebrow. A split second staring contest ensued and then with a frustrated sigh he bent his head down, indicating sheepishly that she should check out the back of his neck. It looked like a map of the Rockies.

Which didn’t exactly help Rogue’s sense of Zen.

“Ah’m gonna kill that shape-shifting bitch!” she snarled. Because thanks to her borrowed feral senses she could smell the faint aroma of metal and poison underneath his skin. Tell that neither flesh nor muscle was knitting back together- which she guessed made the wound painful as Hell. Worry flooded through her, that strange superstitious kinda dread that only plagued you when your nearest and dearest were hurting and she made an unconscious sound in the back of her throat. Part purr, part growl, all protective. Running her hands unconsciously up his chest and through his hair to sooth him, her scent she knew flooding with tenderness and care. Logan took in a sudden, sharp breath, registering the change in her and without really meaning to- without even thinking about it- Marie bumped her nose lightly against the wound. Hesitated a split second and then licked gently along the skin around the bandage, her fingers tangling more fully in his hair. That purring sound still rumbling through her throat. Seemed the thing to do, although why precisely she didn’t wanna dwell on-

And once again she remembered what Preacher Morgan had told her about earning a trip to Hell.

Because Logan’s heart-beat went up a notch, arousal flooding his scent. The fact that she’d licked him apparently enough to knock all his careful controls asunder, to call that beast within him out to play. He reached around, hands tangling in her hair now, and pulled her to him. Angling her mouth beneath his and then kissing her like a man in a desert greets water. Jesus. Marie’s body shifted instinctively to curl in his lap, her little arms pulling him tighter than she’d held anyone in years, his hands squeezing her from rib-cage to hips and back again- burning, her skin was burning- and his mouth travelling hungrily to her throat. Nipping at the skin, leaving tiny bite marks. Marking her, she knew, as his. For a second he met her gaze, those hazel eyes burning with something that once upon a time she would have called love- and then he buried his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent like he wanted to drown in it. His mouth finding hers again, tender and hot and Christ but it had been so long since she’d wanted anyone like this that she didn’t push him away. Couldn’t. Just growled more deeply at the back of her throat, the warm, hard length if him pressing against her belly even as her hands roamed his back, his arms. Even as she relearned the contours of this body she’d loved as she’d never love another. The rhythm of his rocking hips was calling up her own now, her tongue sweeping into his mouth now, biting at his lip-She thought maybe one of ’em was gonna scream but she didn’t care none-

And then Logan tipped them both backwards in the bed. Spreading her out like a map of the universe beneath him. Laying her open and wanted and bare. Pulling her legs upwards to hook around his neck and growling against her skin, running tongue and hands and teeth and- Holy baby Jesus- nails down the shivering, sensitised flesh of her thighs. Muttering- “Christ I missed you, darlin’-” while he touched every inch of her like he never wanted to stop. Like he wasn’t able to. Marie gasped, hollered, the heat of him flaring against her ass even as he continued to bite and nip at her knees, her calves. Her feet. Hands kneading her flesh hotly, growling what he wanted to do to her now he had her all to himself. Now that she was his again. Marie arched her back unconsciously, the action half plea and half demand and without warning he spread her legs wide again, suckling wetly, hotly against her belly, then her nipples. His mouth full of her even as she tried to twine her legs around his waist and hold him more firmly in place. But she should have known better: Instantly he pulled away, grinning wickedly as he licked, sucked, bit his way back down to her legs. Her pussy. Nipping the soft skin at the very side of her thigh-yes!- and making her hips buck off the bed. For one second he stared up at her, his expression glittering and feral and hot enough to burn a hole through her skin. His hands pulling her hips up to meet him, muttering, “Show me how much you want it, sweetheart, show me-”

And then he was inside her. Mouth. Tongue. Fingers. Working on that tightening ball of pleasure and pressure. The joy of it hot and wet and indescribable- The sensation of it practically making her scream-

Which was when the door to the adjoining suite opened.

When the woman who was neither Jubes or Kitty walked in, naked as the day she was born. Tamzin, the red-headed stripper Stacey had pointed out during Marie’s first stay here- the one who was apparently always being turned down by Logan- wandered into the room wearing nothing but a smile and a box of Trojans XXL. Apparently completely unaware that Logan and Marie might be a Little. Fucking. Busy.

“So,” the redhead purred gamely, “Did your ex say yes to joining in with us?”

You have got to be fucking kidding me, Marie thought then.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Because sure the hours sucked and she had to work with the kinda people who proved that homo sapiens was descended from monkeys, and yes, she was pretty certain both Vic and Daken had watched too many James Bond movies because anyone who seriously contemplates building an underground bunker (let alone goes through with it) deep down wants an eye-patch and a white cat to stroke-

But every so often you got an absolutely glorious moment like this.

Every so often you got paid to convince a hoity-toity, holier-than-thou, stick-up-her-butt girlfriend that her precious ex was screwing around on her (purely so that she’d storm out of their room and into your boss’s clutches, of course) and that there was pure job satisfaction.

Because the parasite was glaring at Logan now, eyes glassy and lip wobbling like he’d gone and skewered her favourite kitten. Her little fists balled up at her sides, the anger practically coming off her in waves. It was an image Raven wanted to use as a screen-saver on her cell-phone. Or post on You-Tube. It was that fucking entertaining-

And if working for Eric had ever been this much fun, Mystique mused, I wouldn’t be freelance now.

“Something you want to tell me, shuggs?” Marie ground out then. Gesturing to Raven and her naked, red-headed state. As soon as Mystique heard the stories about Tamzin’s little fan girl crush on Logan she’d known whose form she’d take for this gig: After all, the parasite was to territory issues what Sabre-Tooth was to the feather-cut, so getting her to go Scarlett O’Hara and storm out should have been a breeze. The meta-morph made sure to smile extra pretty for the Wolverine and she was rewarded by a charming little strangling noise at the back of Marie’s throat: It sounded like she was having an embolism. “Ah mean seriously?” the young woman snarled, “Seriously? Is there something you and me ought to discuss? Because Ah for one didn’t order a skank from room service-”

“And you think I did?” Logan retorted. Raven wished she could have brought some popcorn in with her. “You think I’d make a play fer the Little Stalker Who Could with you poorly?”

The parasite snorted. “Ah think you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants around a slutty red-head in all the time Ah’ve known you,”-Ooh, Raven thought, feisty! - “and today certainly ain’t no exception-”

“But I didn’t do anything!” he growled. “I wouldn’t- Not now- Not when I just found you again-” He tried to reach out for her and she pulled away, shooting him an obnoxiously cynical look. This was better than cable. “Jesus, Marie,” he tried again, “What kinda scum-bag would try to get the woman whose heart he broke into a threesome just hours after she’d nearly been killed trying to save his ass?”

“Oh, Ah don’t know, the kind who fucks a red-headed barfly in our bed while Ah’m out saving the world?”

“But that was one night!” he snarled. “One mistake- Losing you cured me o’ being that stupid an asshole-” And he grabbed her by the tops of her arms, pulling her close. Marie struggled, but he wouldn’t let her go, even when she squeezed her eyes shut.

Though for a woman that good at kicking the shit out of her opponent she didn’t seem to be putting up much of a fight.

“I don’t want a Tamzin,” he was muttering fiercely now, face in hers. “I never wanted a Tamzin-I only ever wanted you darlin’.” Mean-Streak’s eyes flew open at his words and Raven bit the inside of her cheek- You believe that honey, you’ll believe anything- But Romeo wasn’t done with the waxing poetical. Bless. “I never loved anyone the way I loved you,” he was saying softly. “I never wanted anyone the way I want you…Two years without you, darlin’- That almost fucking killed me.” And he released one arm to stroke a platinum stripe away from her face, making her sigh slightly. Her little hands tightening against his chest, his bicep. Lips moving to tenderly meet his. I may vomit, Raven thought, rolling her eyes in disgust as the sight of the little love fest-

And at the precise moment she took her gaze off the couple the parasite swung a metalled-up fist into the back of her head, knocking her flying. The blow vicious enough that even Logan winced-

Though not as hard as when she brought that metal fist up to punch him.

It made Raven feel a little better about being on the floor, though admittedly not by much.

“What the fuck, Marie?” Logan demanded then, rubbing the back of his head. Pulling away from her, the closest Raven had ever seen him to pouting.

“That the fuck,” Mean-Streak snapped. Gesturing towards- and by gesturing, she meant kicking- Mystique. Stomping on her nose and her stomach, which Raven felt smacked a bit of over-kill. Though girls will be girls. “Didn’t you smell the Blue Bitch here soon as she walked in the room, shuggah?” Marie demanded. “Or were you too distracted by the sight of the Little Stalker Who Could to notice, hmm?”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “My senses still ain’t back,” he muttered. “Cos o’ that piece o’ shit got put in my neck.” He looked down at the now prone Raven, his stance still instinctively shifting to shield Marie. “You mean that’s-”

Mean-Streak nodded. “Yeah, Ah mean there’s a Porn Smurf in a whorehouse.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Ah mean, what are you odds?”

And with that Marie brought a lethal, bare hand down on Mystique’s throat. Trapping her and taking her mutation as her own. A beat passed, then another and another, Raven twitching as she felt body and mind and power flood into the parasite-

And then Marie gave a sudden snarl, her eyes flashing yellow in fury.

“Ah’m gonna kill Tony Stark!” she growled.

“Ah don’t want to hear it.”

Marie wouldn’t look at him.

“The excuses, the explanations, any of it,” she muttered. She was staring at her hands like she wished she had claws, like the memory of him underneath her hands was causing her actual pain. Downstairs Stacey was checking the Ranch fer Stark, Jubes and Kitty but Logan doubted she’d find them: They were probably halfway to Manhattan by now. Storm was getting back to him with the girls’ IPS locations but fer the moment it was just the two of them, just him and Marie and a room to wait in. It was killing him. “Ah don’t wanna hear how you were just trying to calm me down,” Marie continued at his silence, her voice still tight and painful and angry, “Or how your inner Logan took over and made you crawl inta bed with me naked. How all you wanted to do was make me feel better- How ya love me like you’ll never love anyone else. Ah don’t wanna hear it.”

And suddenly she stood up, forcing her hands to her sides. Making herself to look at him.

There was something hard and dead and glittering in her eyes that he’d never seen before.

“So you’re saying you didn’t feel anything back there?” he asked softly. Moving closer to her. She took a step back, hands held up before her. Not like before though, not nervous. This time she was resolute. Cold. “You honestly telling me that there’s nothing between us after that-” and he gestured to the bed.

“I’m telling you it doesn’t matter,” she said evenly. Looking him straight in the eye. “It doesn’t matter what we did.”

“It matters to me.”

“But not to me.” Logan turned away at her words. “Sex was never the problem, with us,” she said softly. “Pulling our clothes off and making with the rutting wasn’t ever where we ran into trouble- And it never solved a damn thing. It was the other shit, the everyday shit that we had problems with. And that hasn’t changed, shuggs; It never will do-”

“You were happy with me,” he insisted. He knew that.

“Yeah, Ah was. But Ah didn’t stay that way, did Ah?” He winced. “And Ah won’t ever give anyone the power to make me feel the way you did again, good or bad. No matter how much Ah might miss-” She drew in a sharp breath. “No matter what. So like Ah said, it don’t matter what we did together.” She shrugged. “You made your choice, shuggs,” she said, eyes down. “And Ah made mine. Live with it.”

And with that she gently, elegantly, moved to check Mystique’s bindings. Not even looking back at him as she walked away.

Logan wanted to stop her- I can’t be without you anymore, darlin’, I don’t wanna be- But he didn’t. Because what right did he have to argue with her? What right did he have to hurt her anymore? Her happiness was what he’d always wanted, no matter what the cause to himself. He’d done the right thing by her two years ago, he reminded himself; He’d been the good guy fer her. After the threats from Sabre-tooth, after that debacle with the Hand kidnapping her, he’d given her everything she’d needed (including a nice clean break) and now he should just do the same. It didn’t matter if he’d been through Hell the last two years without her. Didn’t matter if he now knew she was the only thing he’d never heal from because he didn’t wanna heal. She had a life now and she was better off away from him-

And he knew if given the choice between Marie’s happiness and his own, he would always choose hers. Always. It wasn’t even a contest.

He’d just forgotten how much it fucking hurt to watch her walk away.

So he let her go and ask Stacey fer a progress report. Busied himself checking the room fer evidence (there wasn’t any) and cursing the fact that his sense o’ smell still wasn’t right. He kept his hands and mind occupied with anything that wasn’t to do with Marie or how he felt about her and her not wanting to be with him-

And when she came back in five minutes later he told himself not to notice that her eyes were ringed with red. That she’d clearly been crying.

Because after all, he always did what was best fer Marie.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

I’m a fucking moron, Tony thought.

Staring at the moonlight streaked clouds out his window. Addressing the glass of bourbon in his hand- three weeks without Emma’s steadying psychic influence and he was back on the sauce- and trying for the thousandth time to fight back his wave of disgust at himself. Trying to tell himself that the deal he’d made with Mystique and her boss hadn’t been the most profoundly stupid thing he’d done in a life of profoundly stupid mistakes. But even he couldn’t make that lie fly. He’d had plenty of options: He could have just told Logan and the girls the truth when they were in the compound and taken his chances. Could have trusted them to save Pepper like they had so many others and tried to lend a hand. But he hadn’t. He… couldn’t. One downloaded image of beloved Girl Friday being held hostage and all his Iron Man bravado had disappeared. Because now he knew what they’d done to Emma- the feral who looked like Logan had shown him that- and if those people could do that to one of the toughest women on the planet then Christ only knew what they’d do to someone like Pepper…

And that being the case he didn’t give a flying fuck who he had to hurt to make her safe again. Even if it made him a treacherous, two-faced sonofabitch.

Tony sighed.

He glanced nervously at the in-flight camera relay then, checking Kitty and Jubes for maybe the thousandth time that night. Wondering when Mystique would make contact since she was following behind with Logan and Marie. The Blue Bitch had said she wanted to divide and conquer- not that Tony blamed her, putting Papa Logan and his girls together for transport would have been a jailbreak waiting to happen- so she was travelling solo. Probably stealing the Blackbird to haul in Wolverine and Marie, since that was bound to rub the X-Men the wrong way. He stared at the monitor for a moment, hand tightening tensely on his glass as he watched the two women sleep: He wanted to make sure they were actually out of it and not faking. Or, you know, armed. But so far they weren’t making a peep; The amount of drugs in their systems and the mutation-suppression collars he’d put on them would see to that. Tony knew intellectually that he was over-reacting: Every security measure his Big Damn Brain (ä ) could think of had been brought to bear to keep the two women incarcerated until he handed them over. But he also knew that every Big Damn Brain-enhanced doo-hickey would mean neither jack nor shit if either women actually woke up. Logan’s Angels had gotten out of prisons, Gorgon-run training facilities, Friends of Humanity compounds and even the Vatican Library without breaking a sweat-

So one tin can in the sky probably wouldn’t present any problems if they were conscious. No matter what his Big Damn Brain thought.

Well shit.

The onboard radio beeped then. An image of Mystique flaring into life, her lips set in an excessively over-done pout. “Concentrate, Stark,” Mystique all but growled, her arms crossing over her bare chest. “I ain’t got nothing you haven’t seen before.” It was weird, but in the little time he’d known her Tony has never seen her look that uncomfortable in her naked blue state.

Weird.

“Sorry,” he muttered sourly, “But looking at you is reminding me what happened to Emma. Talking to my wife’s murderer doesn’t exactly do wonders for my sense of Zen.”

Something flitted across her face, too quick for him to decipher. If he hadn’t have known better, he would have sworn it was… realisation? But the expression soon disappeared, to be replaced by another pout. “Am I supposed to feel bad?” the Blue Bitch purred instead. “It’s nothing personal, Anthony. You know that. Now, do you still have to girls?”

“Yeah, I still have Jubilee and Kitty. They’re asleep in the hold-”

Her tone was innocently suggestive. “Asleep?”

He gritted his teeth. “Yeah, asleep. Not everyone likes to play with their food the way you do.”

“Don’t know what you’re missing,” she cooed. “But that’s good. The boss wouldn’t want them uglied up before we get to New York-”

What The Hell?

“Wait a second,” he snapped, “You said Malibu. You said the drop would be at my place. At the Island.” That’s where Pepper was, that’s where he’d been planning to hand the hostages over. Somewhere nice and familiar and designed to respond to his voice alone in case anybody tried anything creative.

“Relax Stark,” Mystique muttered soothingly. “It’s just a tiny change of plan-”

The look he shot her was epically unconvinced. “But you said I get Pepper in exchange for them,” he muttered. “You said if I handed over Kitty and Jubilee then you’d give me back Pepper. That was the deal we made, you vindictive bitch.” He raked his hands through his hair, trying to rein in his temper. “I sold Logan and his girls down the river for you,” he was muttering. “I sold out Forge and everyone else I know in Nevada for this deal. And I swear if you’ve hurt Pepper then I’ll personally-

“What?” Mystique snarled. Her voice so loud the plane practically jumped. “What the fuck does the little prince think he can do to me?” She leaned forward, her yellow-eyed gaze furious.“Need I remind you that you have no cards in all this?” she was hissing. “You made your bed, Mr. Stark: Don’t whine at me about who you find lying in it. You’ll go where we tell you, you’ll do what we want you to, and you’ll mind your table manners while you’re at it. Because if you don’t-” She made a quick slashing motion across her throat with her finger. Smile widening. “And you can pray that I’m the one asked to do it, because if Victor’s given the job- Well, you’ve not seen anyone play with their food the way that man can.” Tony’s face went pale. “Now you are gonna make the drop in Manhattan,” Mystique continued. “You are gonna go to Stark Towers, you are gonna bring the girls to the roof and then you are gonna hand them over. And if you don’t, you are gonna have one very fucking dead girlfriend on your hands. Is that clear?”

He swallowed. Nodded. “Crystal.” Bitch.

Just for a second Mystique’s face softened, her voice turning gentler. It was- Well, it was fucking scary. “She’s going to be fine, Stark,” the Blue Bitch muttered. “You both are. But you need to do what I tell you, okay? Just do what I say and everything will be ok.”

As if. But he nodded. Tony really didn’t think annoying her was wise right now. So he cleared his throat, nodded. “Stark Towers, got it. Bring the girls, got it.” Pray Pepper’s still alive, got it. “ETA is in about three hours. You available on this frequency if I need to contact you-?”

Mystique shook her head. “Don’t call me, I‘ll call you when I’m in position.” And without another word she broke contact. Leaving Stark staring into space and praying once again that the same fate which had taken his wife didn’t take the woman he actually loved-

Because Christ knew he couldn’t live with himself if he were to have caused that.

“Channelling yer inner Blue Bitch, darlin’?”

And Logan hauled the last of the gear into the Blackbird, a frown creasing his craggy brow. The air about him practically vibrating with the strength of his glare. He was pointedly not staring at Marie- her using Mystique’s mutation was setting his teeth on edge something fierce- and trying to pretend there wasn’t a sexual white elephant the size of Dumbo in the room with them.

Not that Marie blamed him for that. At all.

And not that it was in any way working, though she wasn’t ready to dwell on that pleasant notion yet.

A beat.

“Just making sure Stark believes he’s bin talking to the Porn Smurf, Logan,” she muttered tightly instead, checking the dash-board and making sure they were cleared for take off. Going through the take-off protocols, banking the jet as she took her up. She tried to silently remind herself that thinking about what had happened back there was not wise- That it didn’t matter what he’d told her, that it didn’t matter what she’d felt- But she couldn’t seem to convince herself any. And it wasn’t exactly helping her sense of Zen, epecially now she was flying a plane. Mystique interrupting them may have been the best thing that could have happened, she told herself: In the split second before she’d recognised the Blue Bitch’s scent she’d genuinely thought that Logan was trawling for a threesome partner, and the very fact that she believed him capable of something so sleazy was proof that their parting was the best thing that had ever happened to her-

But that didn’t help the ache in her chest that was getting worse with every passing second.

And it also didn’t help to know that no matter what she and Logan did together she’d never be able to trust him again, because that shit hurt.

Another beat.

“So, I got through to Remy,” Logan muttered then. Breaking the silence. His hands clenching tightly at his palms like he was fighting to urge to pop his claws, grimacing as he said Gambit’s name. Weird. “Him and Kurt are heading out to Malibu to check out Stark’s place-”

She twisted in her chair to look at him. “Kurt can bamf inside?”

“Looks like. Ain’t no technology can keep the elf out, and the target won’t even see it coming. In, out, and get Potts, no fuss.” For a second his gaze turned feral, his grin shark-like. And then just as suddenly that pissed-and-dangerous look was back on his face, setting Marie’s nerves on edge. Suddenly he wouldn’t look at her.“Besides,” he continued, more quietly, “Gumbo’s not in his happy place about people laying paws on his Jubilation and we both know he’ll blow the place apart brick by brick if he has to-”

Marie snorted. “Not exactly stealthy.”

“Gets the job done. Ain’t a man alive would do less fer the woman he loved.” And this time he did look up at her. Gaze sharp and dark. He seemed to be working up to something, though she couldn’t guess what-

And then just as suddenly he looked away. Gaze going down to his hands. Shoulders almost sloughing, his posture almost defeated but not quite. “I’m gonna go out back and start prepping gear fer the mission,” he told her. “Call me if ya need something gutted-”

And without another word he walked off, leaving her nonplussed and confused. Wondering what the hell was going on with him-

While in the back of the cockpit Logan pulled out a piece of paper, stared at his own hand writing. Callum Montgomery, it read, 0087638817- He wants to talk to her.

And fer the first time since all of this had started, Logan genuinely thought that the pain was gonna eat him alive.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Sorry about the delay, this was a bitch to write. And that said, this should probably be read the way you’d take a shot of espresso: eyes open, attention paid and on the count of three. One, two, three- GO!

Marie’s got a boyfriend.

“You in place, Gumbo?”

Marie’s got a boyfriend.

“Great, where’s the elf at?”

“Yeah, Kurt’s been to Stark Towers, he can bamf here once ya get Potts.”

Marie’s got a fucking boyfriend, you dickhead!

“Yeah, everything’s fine here. Nuthin’ t’ worry about, Blue Bitch’s still sedated out back. Be in touch-”

And he hung up.

Tried to tell himself that his head is actually in the game, though he knew it was a Massive Fucking Lie. Because-

Marie’s got a boyfriend. Marie’s got a boyfriend. Marie’s got a boyfriend. Marie’s got a boyfriend. Marie’s got a boyfriend!!!-

“Logan?” Rogue asked then, twisting in the pilot seat to look worriedly at him. He felt his gut twist in guilt at the sight.“You say something?”

boyfriendboyfriendboyfriendboyfriendboyfriendboyfriendboyfriend-

“No, darl’- Uh, Marie. Didn’t say nuthin’.” He popped the claws, tried to look badass. “Just stay sharp, okay? This might get rough-”

And immediately he turned away from her. Went back to sounding off weaponry in his head, hoping that Stark didn’t make too much of a fuss when he realised he’d been had. He kept his eyes glued to anything but Marie, knowing he didn’t wanna look at her now she was outta reach-

You are such a fucking dumb-ass, his inner Wolverine growled.

By de time Ah’m finished, Remy thought, they gonna be able to see this place from space.

And he grinned, turning the collar of his coat up against the chill ocean breeze. Switching off the thermal imager now they’d identified which room Pepper Potts was at. Also already planning which of Stark’s expensive-as-shit cars he was gonna total first for the bastard laying hands on his innocent, defenceless Jubilee. Behind him, fourteen year old Meghan Gwynne was leaning against a hotdog stand, waiting for him and Kurt to collect Potts so she could teleport them all back to the Mansion. The distance being too great for Kurt to manage on his own. Remy wished he hadn’t had to bring de petite, she was too young for this shit, but if it meant he got Jubie back he supposed he would live with it-

Though he knew he’d never hear the end of it if his belle femme found out.

“Are you ready to do this, homme?” he asked then. Turning to the elf, holding his hand out. A glowing Queen of Hearts charging between finger and thumb.

“Remy,” Nightcrawler deadpanned, “I vas born ready.” For some reason he’d decided to wear sunglasses even though it was dark out; Clearly he’d been watching Reservoir Dogs again. “Now let us do zis fuckink thing-”

And without another word he pulled the Cajun into a bear-hug, teleporting them away from the beach and into the Mansion. Leaving behind the tell-tale whiff of brimstone in his wake. An early morning surfer blinked, clearly unsure that he’d seen someone disappearing into thin air, and Meghan grinned.

“Extra credit assignments rock,” she murmured.

Because by now she could hear the sound of gunfire from across the bay…

“Sonofafuckingbitch!”

And Kurt grinned brightly as he bamfed into the Mansion’s front room. Kneeing one of the goombahs guarding Pepper Potts in the balls, slashing at another with his tail. Picking up an umbrella from the stand beside Pott’s chair and swinging it like a rapier, unable to prevent himself from smiling rakishly as another massive BOOM! Spilled out from Stark’s garage, followed by a triumphant Cajun bellow of “laissez les bon temps roller!”

I love it ven a plan comes together, Wagner grinned.

A massive hole appeared in the floor to his right then, through which Gambit’s glee-filled face could be seen. Kurt’s grin widened as he saw what looked like Stark’s prize 1948 Vincent Black Shadow Motorcycle go careening past the bay window of the massive room, followed shortly by the remains of Stark’s 1957 250 Testarossa Ferrari sports car. And then his Bugatti Type 41 Royale. For a second he and the goombahs were awe-struck, astonished by the sheer scale of automotive destruction-

And then Kurt recovered, taking his shot and bamfing through the room with acrobatic grace. Taking out three-four-five! heavily armed men before sweeping Stark’s damsel in distress into his arms and bamfing away. The red-head seemed startled- “There there, meine Suesse,” he muttered, “I have you-” And then they were out of there. Kurt’s thoughts already on getting the woman to Pixie, his mind focussed on picking up Gambit before he blew himself back to Westchester or caught the attention of the military, whichever came first. Had he stopped for a second he might have wondered why this Daken fellow he’d been warned about hadn’t appeared while he was saving Pepper-

But it didn’t occur to him. Because right now he was on a roll…

The man heard his private phone beep, pulled it slowly from his pocket and read the text he’d just received. Potts broken out, it said. Stark no longer on-side. Caved and squealed to X-Men. Move forward with the publicity phase of the campaign?

And then, because Daken was a sick little bastard, what looked like a blood-stained smiley face, holding two thumbs up.

Visibly, the man sighed.

He should have known that this would not go quietly. Not when Tony fucking Stark was in the mix. He just couldn’t quite believe that Stark had willingly given Potts’ location away. The boy genius been so ridiculously careful with her since the organisation had taken Emma Frost-

But then maybe he was tired of being careful by now.

The thought triggered another sigh.

The man pulled his hand out of his pocket then, checked his Rolex. Dawn. Which meant that if they went public with phase two then half the news birds in the city, and the NYPD and the tourist fliers, would be in the air to witness the publicity phase of the campaign, as Daken termed it. And report just how rabidly the X-Men had gone out of control. He probably wouldn’t get a better chance than this and he knew it: He just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to regret letting Daken force his hand. Since he was not the sort of man who liked to be rushed. But he sighed anyway. Nodded. Then sent Daken a simple You have a go as his secret service handler darted forward- “Here you go, Senator,”- easing him into the limo and away. He watched the streets go by, wondering why felt so uneasy-

Because Norman Osborne couldn’t shake the feeling that his morning was about to get a whole Helluva lot more complicated than he’d initially thought…

Meghan Gwynne wasn’t really an X-Man.

She was Welsh for crying out loud! her nickname was Pixie! She had wings and naturally pink hair and she produced a cloud of hallucinogens when stressed which looked a loooot like fairy-dust. She wasn’t the type of person you sent into combat; she wasn’t even the kind of person you took with you when you wanted to complain to a manager in the mall. And she was only fourteen years old, which was way too young for this shite. So when the giant, scary, Logan-looking git with the wicked claws yanked her from behind the hot-dog stand where she was hiding, she did the sensible thing-

She took him where he told her to. After all, she’d been to Stark Towers on a field-trip before. She just hoped Mr. LeBeau and Mr. Wagner would forgive her by the time they got back to the beach with Pepper Potts-

Because she didn’t think Mr. Stark would be happy with Daken stealing his new, shiny metal suit-

It was breaking news.

Callum stared, horror-struck, as the jets sped through the air in Manhattan. Pulling manoeuvres no human would have been able to match, dancing and turning through the air with astonishing grace. The morning traffic crews had picked up the story and now half of New York was following it: Someone was engaging in a high-speed, jet-powered dog fight over the Five Burroughs-

And if his eyes didn’t deceive him that someone was his girlfriend. He recognised the marks on the plane- it was the, what did they call it? The Blackbird. And it was currently playing chicken with an Stark Industries plane. The guy beside him, the kinda camp blond who could ice up anything, grinned brightly at him, sipping his coffee. “Aren’t you proud of your girl?” he asked him. Gesturing to the screen like Marie had just gotten on Wheel of Fortune. Callum didn’t answer; he merely glowered at the TV-

Because when Marie came home she would have a looot of explaining to do…

“We there yet, dar- Rogue?” Logan asked suddenly, making her jump.

Also making her look up from the Blackbird controls for the first time in an hour.

She nodded tightly, trying to ignore the way his weird-shit, guilty-looking behaviour was effecting her- Didn’t really work, but Hell, she tried- And gave him a strained little grin. Despite the fact that she’d sworn blind to herself she’d never smile at him again after Vegas. “Sure shug- uh, Logan,” she muttered. “We’re heading in for our final descent now. Trajectory’s locked onto Stark Tower now. Kurt and Remy in position?”

“Yeah, the elf’s just gone in.” He was standing behind her, his nearness painfully distracting even through the pilot seat’s back. Fucking hormones, she thought resentfully. Ah swear they’ll get me killed. “Gambit wanted to go in like the 51st Airborne over what Stark did to Jubes-” he continued, shaking his head, “but I managed to talk him out of it- Told him that we’re tracking the girls’ GPS coordinates, that they’re gonna be fine-”

And then suddenly he trailed off. Frowning- no, glowering- at the dash.

Which was, Marie knew from bitter experience, an Apocalyptically bad sign.

Because a tiny, glowy plane-shaped icon had appeared on the Blackbird’s central monitor. And it was soon joined by another glowy, dot-shaped icon which appeared to be trailing the first. Both were blinking on and off, rapidly turning from green to red and then back again. Making an irritating pinging noise which Marie associated with more aerial dog-fights than she cared to remember. And (more ominously) her first, terrifying mission flying the Blackbird at Alkali Lake. Rogue frowned, watching as the red alert sign appeared on the view screen above her- Right next to the words opponent engaged. And emergency manoeuvres recommended. And, somewhat redundantly, fasten seat belts now.

They both thought it but only Logan said it.

“You have gotta be fucking shitting me,” he snarled.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

What the fuck was that?

Kitty Pryde winced as Stark’s jet dodged through the air, spinning fit to make her stomach woozy. Darting left then right in a manner which clearly indicated he was engaged in a dogfight. To her right Jubes was coming groggily awake, the movement of the plane and the anti-sedative compound Hank had dosed her with before she left the Mansion finally kicking in. The expression on her face enough to give even Sabre-tooth pause. Shadowcat closed her eyes, trying to focus on her calculations to escape the electronic cages Stark had packed them into- mass x velocity, the cage is what, about 15 kg including the electronics? And I can produce approximately 0.0004 ton at a speed of 3.9 metres/sec- Carry the two, bring four over- wait, should that be-? But I have to factor in dampening effects of the altitude-

“Chica, duck your head,” Jubes muttered from behind her then. Sounding pissed.

“In a second,” Kitty muttered, “I’m still calculating-”

“Calculations finished.” And suddenly she felt the back of her neck collide painfully with one of the bars of her cage- Ouch!- The impact enough to set the restraint collar tumbling from her neck. Its power source apparently having been totalled by the blow. Kitty turned to find Jubes glowering groggily at her, hand held out in invitation even as she phased her through the bars.“Now can we please go and beat the bejayzus out of Optimus Dick?”chica growled and she nodded, the pair of them stalking through the plane to the cockpit, dead set on gutting themselves a millionaire play-boy-

Only to find Stark staring at the belly of the Blackbird in his front view-screen.

Staring at some metal-suit-wearing dude who definitely wasn’t Logan but who was hanging out of the bottom of the Blackbird.

An incredibly long beat of silence descended and then-

“Now that shit is just plain wrong,” Jubes growled.

“Fasten your fuckin’ seat-belt, shuggs.”

And Marie banked the Blackbird, spinning it. Trying to shake the Stark Industries jet which was flying so tight up her ass it felt like the pilot was trying to check what colour panties she was wearing. Or maybe whether she’d shaved her legs today. Beside her she could see Logan hurriedly pulling his flight harness tighter, his skin turning a lighter shade of pale as she spun the jet 360 degrees, very nearly clipping the pursuer before it darted away and resumed its course. Apparently having figured out what colour her undies were and now after a glimpse of her bra. Rogue bit her lip, bringing the stealth modifications off-line- there were too many civilian and law enforcement birds in the air this morning, she couldn’t risk them not spotting her- before yanking the communications head-set over her ear. Opening every frequency she had access to and praying her pursuer would listen.

“Mayday, mayday,” she practically growled, “This is Sierra Romeo Seven Seven X-Ray to the dickhead on mah portside, cease pursuit, Ah repeat cease pursuit- We are not a military target, please disengage-”

But the only answer she got was a burst of static and another dart towards the plane’s belly. Forcing her to loop-de-loop yet again (“Christ, Marie,” Logan muttered nauseously, “Who taught you to fly? Bobby?” ) and causing her to nearly smash into the NYPD traffic chopper to her right- Which needless to say would not play well on the nightly news. Wolverine began pulling the weapons’ systems online, muttering viciously under his breath about how he’d really, really, really like to blow some shit up after the week he’d had while the pursuing Stark Industries jet continued to dance around her, forcing her to manoeuvre dangerously, to spin the plane and rock-

Which was actually, now she thought about it, kinda weird.

Because their pursuer hadn’t fired on her, not once, and the Blackbird’s sensors showed that it was more than capable of it; Even Logan bringing their weapons online hadn’t prompted reprisal. So why the Hell weren’t they opening fire? And if they were worried about engaging over a heavily populated area like Manhattan, why bother to chase the X-jet at all? And again, she thought, with the weird. Marie frowned, slowing the plane slightly and then dropping it vertically for a second (“Feels like a Cyclopes landing, darlin’”), letting the Stark jet overtake her- And then darting around again, levelling the plane off and using the vertical drop to keep nose to nose with their pursuer. Refusing the spin the plane, holding it steady in the air. It took a moment for the other pilot to realise what she was doing and then- then- The Stark jet dived suddenly. Going down about a thousand feet below her and then ascending rapidly, nose aiming straight for the Blackbird’s hull. Trying to make her roll again, because the easiest way to get out of its path would be to pull another loop-de-loop, and another frown creased Marie’s brow as she realised that that was exactly what their pursuer wanted her to do. He wasn’t trying to take her out, she realised, he was trying to get her to shake her ass- literally-

And that was when the paffs started exploding inside the cockpit.

It was also, coincidentally enough, when Logan started swearing really, really loudly in just about every language he knew.

Because of all the things they’d expected to face, chica’s own brand of plasma bomb certainly hadn’t been on the list. And yet suddenly the inside of the Blackbird looked like the New Year night sky in Chinatown, pink, purple and golden paffs exploding throughout the plane. “Jesus H. Christ-” Logan snapped, “Is that what I think it is?” And then, as another one exploded at his elbow and made him yelp, “I swear I’m gonna make Gumbo a widower, she keeps this shit up.” Rogue pulled the Blackbird away, desperately trying to get some distance but it did no good: Jubes’ paffs pretty much went where she told ’em to, and so long as her friend maintained eye contact with the X-Jet there wasn’t really anywhere to run. Besides, once Jubes acquired a target she was like a fucking heat-seeking missile: She never gave up, it was why she was still barred from the Avenger HQ-

It came together in Marie’s head then.

All of it. The only possible explanation for this behaviour. Because the girls must’ve gotten loose and gotten the story out of Stark about Mystique taking the Blackbird from Nevada- Marie kinda hoped that interrogation had been painful- And now Kit and Jubes were opening fire, thinking they were bruising the Blue Bitch when in fact they were nearly killing herself and Wolverine. It was probably why they hadn’t just totalled the plane: they thought she and Logan were alive inside but being held prisoner. Marie rolled her eyes, cursing the fact that she’d pretended to be Mystique when she called that last time since now no matter what she said the girls would assume it was a trick. And no matter what she did someone was gonna end up hurt. Beside her Logan hissed in pain as a shower of paffs exploded in front of him, searing his skin and damaging his eyes more than his sluggish healing factor could handle-thank you, Porn Smurf-inflicted torture bling- Burns facing across his face and throat where the paffs exploded, the pain of it enough to make him floor him- And that wasn’t easy, Rogue knew. Fury rose in her at the sight of him hurt and she opened her comm channels again, snapping, “What the fuck, chica? You tryin’ t’kill me?” despite the fact that she doubted they’d believe her. And then, when that got no answer, “Yeah, Ah’m talking to you! Because just so ya know you nearly paffinated Logan with that burst-”

“Don’t even say his name,” a voice came across the channel then, and it ran Marie’s blood cold because that wasn’t Jubes, it was Kitty. And man, did she sound pissed. “You don’t get to say our sensei’s name. The only reason you’re still in the air is that you have people I care about onboard and we’re over a populated area. But if you force me to I’ll phase through your plane and disrupt every single piece of electronic equipment onboard, Porn Smurf-”

“But Jesus, Kit!” Marie snapped. “It’s me, it’s Marie, Ah swear! The Blue Bitch is out back-”

“And I’m the Virgin Mary,” Jubes weighed in over her. Another spread of paffs exploding inside the jet to make her point. “We can see Daken hanging on the ass of your plane-” What the fuck? Marie thought - “And we know you took Logan and Marie, traded ‘em to Stark for Pepper Potts. So cut the shit and shake Claw Bearing Ken loose or we’re gonna knock you outta the sky the old-fashioned way.” And the Stark jet accelerated suddenly, bearing down on them and threatening to hit them in a headlong collision- Though Marie guessed Kitty would phase the plane before it made contact. Her mutation being enough to ensure that the Blackbird went dead for a few minutes- if Daken was attached to the plane somehow the sudden deceleration probably would shake him off- though the Stark jet itself would be fine. Marie winced, panic for a split second taking over as she saw the wing of the Stark jet come hurtling towards her, the desire to avoid impact automatically making her close her eyes. She rolled the plane and as she did so she felt Logan pull her back against him, his once indestructible body trying to take the impact for both of them, though considering the shape he was in it might kill him now. His big, heavy hands wrapping themselves around her, his familiar voice muttering in her ear that he’d keep her safe. For a second time seemed to stand still, the only thing her brain could process being panic and reassurance in that weird, jarring package they always came together in when she was with Logan and then-

Then-

Another voice crackled through the cockpit.

The sound of it enough to stop Kitty and the Stark jet in its tracks. Because-

“Once upon a time,” Daken’s soft voice came over the intercom, “There were three little girls who went to Xavier’s School for Gifted Children.” A burst of static came, and she heard Jubes swear colourfully on the other line. “And they were all given very hazardous duties, duties they couldn’t hope to perform- Just like my little friend here. My little teleporting friend. Say hello, little teleporting friend!” And Marie heard a keening sob come over the line, the voice clearly that of a child-

“Sonofafuckingbitch,” Logan snarled.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“So you have Pixie,” Logan rumbled. “I’d know that kid’s voice anywhere.”

And he inclined his head towards the intercom, where Daken’s voice could still be heard over his hostage’s weeping. His crooning threats enough to make the Wolverine’s blood boil.

“Yeah,” the feral growled, his tone gloating. “I have her by her little wings and her little throat and she’s not going anywhere- Are you, peaches?” His laugh floated over the open com channel and Logan repressed the urge to gut something. Slowly. “At least,” the feral continued, “Not unless she’s willing to leave her spleen behind-”

And with that a keening sob cracked the air, Pixie’s voice breaking in pain at whatever her captor was doing. The sound making Marie’s eyes widen in horror and the Jubes and Kitty gasp on the other end of the line. Logan hissed in rage, knuckles tightening and lips drawn back in a snarl at the wave of helplessness that washed through him-

And then he saw something flit across Marie’s face, almost too quick fer anyone else to recognise; A look he remembered from what felt like a century ago. From a thousand hair-brained missions, and a thousand nights in the field. Their eyes met, chocolate against hazel and in that second he knew-

She had a plan. His girl had a plan.

Rogue slipped out of the pilot’s seat then, gesturing for him to change places with her. Letting him sit in the pilot’s chair and then settling into his lap. Her hands on the controls, the safety harness wrapped around them both. He opened his mouth to ask what she was doing but she held a finger to her lips fer silence: Daken can hear what we’re saying, she mouthed, And I can’t isolate which frequency he’s using to do it. So just trust me, okay? Logan nodded- He’d never trusted anyone the way he’d trusted her- and tightened his arms around her. Making sure the grip of one arm was iron-clad around her little body, his other hand following hers to hold the jet controls. Her silence continued fer a second longer and then, once he was settled she opened the line to Stark. Barely paying any attention to Daken and his cruel little rant, nonchalantly drawling two words.

“Ladies,” she muttered. “Cancun.”

“Cancun?” Jubes asked, “What the-?”

“Cancun,” Marie repeated. Nodding.

And then he heard Kitty, her tone telling him that she knew exactly what Rogue was talking about. “Cancun,” Pryde muttered, “Got it, Roguey-”

And with that Kit shut off the com line, with Stark in mid-pout-

“Hold onta me, shuggs,” Marie breathed against him. “It’s about to get a little rough in here.”

“Well, clearly this is what we’re trying to avoid.”

And Senator Norman Osborne cleared his throat, speaking sternly into CNN journalist Tyler Bon-Scott’s mic. Gesturing above him, to where the Blackbird spun gracefully in mid-air, darting away from the Stark Industries jet and causing every teenager in the room to whoop appreciatively.

Callum ground his teeth at the sound.

“I mean,” the good senator continued, “These mutants claim that they’re no threat, and yet as you can see they’re willing to attack the private property of one of their most high profile defenders- A man for whom I have the utmost respect, a true American patriot like Tony Stark-” And he shot a shit-eating grin at the camera.

The rec room erupted into catcalls and jeers, the youngsters making their opinion of Osborne’s summation obvious. Colourfully obvious.

Callum sank down more in his chair.

“The… creature you can see endangering the skies above you-” Osborne continued as Bon-Scott’s cameraman focussed on the clawed, masked individual who could clearly be seen hanging on to the undercarriage of the X-Jet- “Has a file longer than both my arms with just about every government in the world. He calls himself the Wolverine, and the X-Men have been hiding him for several years, despite the fact that he is wanted in multiple jurisdictions for crimes ranging from murder and drug-trafficking to rape.” The room erupted again and even the blond Ice Dude (or whatever he called himself) scowled. “Not cool, man,” he was muttering. “Like Logan would ever do that to a chick-”

Someone switched the TV off then.

Callum turned to find himself staring at the weather goddess- What was it they called her? Blizzard? Hurricane?- and the thunderously unimpressed look she was wearing. It made him feel like floor lint just on general principles. “We’ve a situation, Bobby,” she was saying. “You saw the news, our girls are in trouble. So suit up, we’re going in-”

“And what about me?” Callum asked. Telling himself he didn’t sound whiny. He didn’t. “What am I supposed to do while you’re all off Kal-Elling it over Manhattan?”

The weather witch cocked a single, regal eyebrow at him and he suppressed the sudden urge to genuflect.“You’re a doctor, aren’t you?” she demanded. He nodded. “Then run down to the med lab and get fitted for a flak jacket- Hank could always use an extra pair of hands.” She didn’t even wait for his agreement, just stalked out of there.

“Welcome to the team,” Bobby grinned.

“You’re crazy as bat-shit,” Tony told her.

Kitty ignored him.

“There’s no way this will work, don’t even think about it-”

Kitty continued ignoring him.

“If I don’t bring you back to Logan and Marie in the pristine condition I found you in they’ll both kill me-”

By this time Stark sounded kinda panicked. Kitty went on ignoring him. Though she did feel a teensy bit bad about it-

But that feeling would pass, she knew.

“Come on, this is crazy,” the billionaire continued, “I mean who the Hell jumps out of a jet in the sky over Manhattan? Who does that, Kitty?”

Finally she looked at him. “I do.” Jubes shot her a tight smile as she held onto the jet controls with a white knuckled grip. “Now get us closer to the roof of the Blackbird, and hold her steady for me-”

“Can do, chica,” Jubie chirped. “God’s speed-”

And with that Katherine Pryde let herself tumble backwards, phasing herself through the hull of the Stark jet, the hull of the Blackbird-

And into the arms of Daken Akihiro.

Who yelped.

Loudly.

But not as loudly as when she yanked Pixie out of his arms and phased the child through the metal suit he was wearing and out into the safety (she used the term loosely) of the sky below the jet.

Kitty let herself savour the moment as she saw the lights on the bastard’s stolen metal suit flicker and then grow dark, the weight of it dragging the asshole earthwards. Her own relative lightness (a fringe benefit of being phased) allowing her to float rather than fall. Daken shot her a look of purest loathing as he plummeted past her and she grinned. Waved at him. Then flipped him the finger just in case he hadn’t figured out that she’d taken his hostage and totalled his bestest new toy-

“Miss Pryde,” Pixie, “Can I just say: You bloody rock!”

Kitty couldn’t help the grin which split her face even as Daken rapidly faded into the distance.

“That is so damn true,” she told the girl. “Now be a dear and teleport us back into the Stark jet. Okay?”

This was all going so much better than planned.

Norman Osborne knew he wasn’t a nice man. Knew he wasn’t even a good man. But by God, he was a show man, and thanks to his feral little protégé he was giving the fine state of New York one Helluva show today: Dogfights, escapes clawed criminals, people appearing and disappearing in mid-air. A soon-to-be-massive-and-female body count and it wasn’t even noon! The cameras were lapping up footage of the Stark and X jets over Manhattan, beaming yet more evidence of how seriously the mutant threat should be taken into every home in America so that by the time Daken landed he’d look so bloodthirsty and terrifying that New Yorkers would be begging Osborne to protect them from the big bad Wolverine and his multicoloured friends. And the best part? The real Logan wouldn’t even be here to dispute Osborne’s version of events: Daken would see to that. And once they got Pepper Potts back Stark would keep his trap shut too- Showing the world that no matter how much better Ororo Munroe looked in an Armani suit than him, she’d been hiding a monster all these years. Osborne’s smile widened, turning gloating as he imagined the lead this would gain him in the polls- More pull with Director Fury, maybe even a big, comfy chair and an oval office in his future-

And he was so busy dreaming of a White House Christmas that he failed to realise that Daken wasn’t flying anymore. At least, not under his own steam. In fact, Daken was falling like a stone. Of course, the two jets were plummeting too but the Stark jet at least stopped its descent after a moment, levelling out and ascending-

While the X-jet began to move faster and faster towards the ground. Picking up so much speed that it was obvious it would soon crash. Not that this worried Osborne any: Because after all, if it crashed he was pretty far from ground zero-

And the bigger the body count, the bigger the headlines, he knew.

Like he’d said, he wasn’t a nice man; But he knew how to put on a show…

And Logan swallowed, tightening his grip on the both Marie and the X-jet controls. The sky spinning dizzily in the view screen before him, every safety measure in this over-complicated damn bird going nuts. As soon as Marie had given her mysterious message there had been a flash of something moving real damn fast and smelling real like Kitty Pryde and then-

The Blackbird had suddenly begun plummeting downwards.

Its weight dragging it out of the sky as every single system went offline.

Monitors flashing dangerously, that annoying-as-fuck computer voice announcing Massive Systems Failure as they fell through the air. Marie was wrestling with the joystick, trying desperately to force it upwards and regain control of the plane manually- Kitty’s phasing always through something always shorted out its electronics fer a few seconds- while Logan wrestled it along with her and tried to think of the best way of manoeuvring her so that he could take the brunt of the crash if it came to that. Making sure that whatever happened to him she would survive. He couldn’t understand it: The Blackbird had been built with Kitty’s mutation in mind: the safety overrides should have kicked in by now. And yet- The plane thrashed and bucked, rocking and rolling and making him dizzy. Tumbling through the heavens and he closed his eyes fer a second, trying to concentrate on the feel of Marie in his lap and in his arms in what were shaping up to perhaps be his last seconds on Earth-

And then suddenly he felt it.

Felt the thud of something really heavy hitting the cockpit roof above his head. Sliding down along its length and then coming to a halt. Heard something electronic being yanked at and saw an element (he’d go out on a limb and say an important element) of the jet’s machinery go sailing past the view screen to his right. Followed by another and another, each doohickey looking more important than the last. Instinctively he bared his teeth and snarled, the plane’s descent forgotten at the realisation that something was fucking with the safety of Marie. And him, but it was Marie who was important here. Logan sniffed, senses straining, every muscle aching with the urge to fight and protect the woman before him-

And that was when he saw them. Claws. Three of ’em.

Tearing at the roof and peeling it like a tin can.

Effectively fucking the hull integrity of the plane so that even if Marie did get its spinning trajectory under control they were both screwed anyway. And not in the fun, I-didn’t-know-that-was-legal-in-the-state-of-Nevada way. The other way. The we-will-soon-be-sitting-in-the-arms-o’-Baby-Jesus way. Well, shit. Fer a second all Logan could do was watch as the skin of the Blackbird was peeled further back, the metal screaming in protest even as Marie tried desperately to wrestle control of the plane back from gravity. Her little hands holding onto the joystick in a death grip, her face white and sweat-streaked and masked in pain. Fear flooded her scent fer the first time she saw the claws and in that second Logan made his choice. It was the same choice he’d made two years ago: Him or her.

And he chose her.

So he snarled, pulling himself out of the harness and zipping it tightly back around her even as she opened her mouth to protest, the wind snatching her words from her throat. Her gaze filled with confusion, not knowing whether to concentrate on this new threat and save him or try to steer the plane as near as she could to a less populated piece of land. Fer a split second he stared into the chocolate brown eyes he’d loved so much fer most of the life he wanted to remember- Love ya, Marie, he mouthed, always have done, always will do.

And with that he reached forward, yanking at the claws- And Daken- And pulling him into what remained of the plane. Flipping him onto his back at the back of the hold and bearing down on him with a howl of fury woulda made the Devil piss his pants. The feral stood up, grinning from ear to ear and discarding the remaining pieces of Stark’s stolen prototype even as the jet spun wildly, twisting and turning fit to make Logan sick. The younger man snickering at the lighter shade of pale he’d turned. “You know,” he hissed, “I’m going to enjoy-”

“-Killing her, murdering her, yadda yadda yadda,” Logan snarled. “There’s a smack-down ’tween you and any o’ my girls, my money’s on them, asshole-”

“Why, because you trained them?” Daken sneered.

“No, because they’re all fucking amazing. And a dick like you don’t stand a fucking chance.” And with that he darted forward, slashing with everything he had. His sense of balance compensating as best it could fer the tossing and turning of the plane. Daken parried, blow fer blow, kick fer kick. His technique flawless, his strength easily an equal of Logan’s own. But then Daken wasn’t fighting fer the survival of his mate, Logan was, and that was the only home court advantage he’d ever need. The two fought, snarled, bit and gouged. Daken obviously surprised to encounter so much resistance- Apparently kidnapping kids like Pixie was more his style- while Logan pulled every nasty, dirty manoeuvre he’d ever known or forgotten to keep him away from his girl. His claws parting Daken’s flesh like it was butter, concentrating on the body parts he knew inflicted the most damage on himself. He drove his claws into the younger man’s side, gouging and twisting his hand before flicking his wrist upwards until it hit resistance- hello there, kidneys- and pulling out. Taking something dark and organ-like with him fer a souvenir. Daken gasped- surprised perhaps at the pain- and Logan used his split second distraction to grab the bastard, one hand at the scruff of his neck, the other yanking his balls, and tossing him towards the back of the plane- And good and far away from Marie. The younger man landed messily, his limbs settling so haphazardly that Logan knew at least a couple of them were broken fer the time being and he pressed him harder, knowing he would only have a few seconds before the asshole recovered completely. Diving so that he had him pinned, slashing and cutting. Daken getting in as many blows though his ones really didn’t hurt that much in comparison with the thought o’ failing Marie- boyfriendboyfriendboyfriend- Fuck the boyfriend, I’m not letting her go again- and the thought of his girls getting hurt. As if from far away he could hear Rogue yelling, “Mayday, mayday, this is not a drill, Ah repeat this is not a drill, ya haveta evacuate the area around Central Park Lake now-” even as the plane dived further. Building up momentum and speed. “Jubes,” she was yelling hoarsely, “Jubes, Ah need you to try something for me-”

“No paffs, chica, the plane won’t take it-”

“The plane will take it, just hear me out-”

And then, just fer a second Daken got the upper-hand, a nasty haymaker-with-claws punch piercing Logan’s shoulder. Marie’s voice dying as unconsciousness claimed him fer a split second. Blackness cradling him in her arms. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, I’m out… And then- Logan forced himself back to consciousness, just in time to see the bastard heading towards the cockpit and his girl. Claws blood-streaked and hungry, a smile lighting up his face and making him look scarier than Hell. Marie was unbuckling her seat-belt, eyeing the bastard warily as she moved forward- don’t even fucking think about it, darlin’- and Daken pulled his claws back, ready to slash her-

Which was when the missing walls of the plane exploded in a riot of colour, Jubes’ paffs stretching and pulling so that they weren’t globes but a transparent field. A field which wasn’t exploding, but was managing to stabilise some of the hull’s integrity. Holy fucking shit, he thought with wonder, my girls are good. Daken blinked, surprised, and in that split second Marie reached out fer the hull, her skin turning to metal as she called upon Colossus’ mutation. Silver flowing from her hand to coat the Blackbird- including the parts which were now mainly paff. She shot Daken her bestest shit-eating grin- “Wonders of auto-pilot, shuggah-” and with a snarl of rage the feral darted towards her, claws raised. So angry he was beyond caring what happened to the plane and himself if he could remove just one person who was getting in his fucking way-

Logan didn’t hesitate, he tackled the bastard with all he had, smashing him into the pilot’s chair even as the Blackbird started to slow its descent, its course evening out. The tumbling stopping as they got nearer the ground. Fer a split second he coulda sworn he saw Storm in the view screen, and beside her a pretty green-haired kid he recognised as magnetic- manipulator Lorna Dane, but that didn’t matter; Nothing mattered except the thought of keeping Daken away from Marie. The feral was pulling his claws back, ready to land a killing blow while Rogue tried desperately to keep in contact with the hull of the jet- Petey’s mutation only worked through hand-to-hand contact- And yet somehow shy away. Unable to even remove one of her gloves with the other hand full and her concentration caught. Logan gave it all he had, drawing on every last ounce of strength he possessed to get in between them, and even as Daken landed that final blow he smiled, relieved at being able to save his girl despite the fact that the younger man had just skewered him through-

Through- I’m through, but she’s fine- She’s fine-

And then-

To his horror Marie fell forwards against him. The metallic wall she’d forced into existence fading out. Fer a second it seemed as if time had stopped, as if nothing could be real as the image of this beautiful, brave young woman failing against him with Daken’s claws in her belly from Logan’s wound- Daken’s claws having gone through Wolverine to get to her- Logan couldn’t breath- No, please no, pale flesh cut and she’s only sixteen and it’s all my fucking fault, please no- And Daken was laughing in his ear and someone was howling hoarsely and on some level Logan knew it was him. She reached out fer him, both her little hands braced against his chest and pushing away so that she could get out of the reach of Daken’s claws. Falling messily against the remains of the Blackbird, blood like an angry, unnatural thing spilling outta her. That beautiful skin going so fucking pale. Fer a split second her gaze flickered up to his and Logan held his hand out, begging her to touch him, to take his healing factor and make herself whole again-

But she didn’t.

“Won’t hurt you, shuggs,” she muttered. “Ya wouldn’t survive it. Not after what- what the Blue Bitch did to you…” She let out a single long, whispering breath, one bare, elegant hand falling to her side from where she’d metalled up the plane- And then she went still. Not breathing. As terrifyingly absent as she’d been on the Statue of Liberty all those years ago. Logan felt a fist crush at his heart, felt something like madness that was love and loss and pain mixed together howl through his chest. He turned, wanting, needing to hurt anyone and anything there was fer him to take this feeling out on-

And that was when he noticed the X-Men standing before him in the view screen. Either Storm or Lorna having brought to plane to a stop without it even registering fer him. Pity on all their faces, horror etched across Jubilee’s. Daken grinned bloodily up at him, his smile malignance personified-

And with that a tall, thin young man in a white coat darted into the plane, a thunderously unimpressed look on his face and Bobby Drake on his heels. He was carrying a med-kit, his expression horrified. Laying hands on Marie like he owned her, like- Like he was her mate. Fer a second Logan glared in the newcomer, the faint whiff of Marie his clothes still contained setting off every protective, jealous instinct he had despite the fact that he‘d no right to it. And then-

“Do you mind stepping away from my girlfriend?” the newcomer snapped, gesturing to Marie. “Or do you really want her to bleed to death?”

Like an automaton Logan moved away.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Do you mind stepping away from my girlfriend?” Callum snapped, gesturing to Marie. “Or do you really want her to bleed to death?”

And like an automaton Logan moved away, his face a mask of anguish as he realised there was nothing he could do to help. The guilt of it, the knowledge that he’d let her fucking down eating him alive. Marie’s boyfriend was hissing under his breath, trying to manoeuvre around his adamantium ass and Daken to tend his fiancée while Akihiro snickered- “Nice going, gai-jin,”- and despite himself Wolverine snarled. Going to push the younger man away from Marie and release her from the claws that had skewered the both of ’em-

But he didn’t.

Because right at that moment Kitty Pryde came tearing over to him from the remains of the Stark jet, Jubes at her heels while Stark took off towards the West 97th Street Gate like the Devil was on his tail. Without a word of explanation she gripped his and Daken’s shoulders, phasing both men- though the process didn’t extend all the way through Akihiro. Daken’s expression turning surprised, then callous, his wrist twisting as he tried to gouge at Marie through Logan’s wound before he could move out of the way. For a second Logan hissed in pain, his spine arching at the agony of it-

But nothing happened to Marie.

Nothing.

Because Kitty had managed to leave the length of Daken’s claw still buried in Marie’s belly solid. Its presence the only thing keeping her from bleeding out. It clicked in Logan’s head: Every member of the X-Man team trained with Hank in basic first aid, and every one of them knew the first rule of treating a knife wound: You leave the puncturing object in until you get the patient to an operating theatre. Doesn’t matter what you have to skewer, steal, blow up or phase to get them there but you don’t remove the weapon unless you want the patient to bleed to death. The three points of un-phased bone in Marie’s stomach were all that was standing between her and an agonisingly slow death from exsanguination-

And that being the case, Logan realised they’d have to keep the bastard there for the time being. He really didn’t like it, but there it was.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Callum snapped then, trying to push Daken away from Rogue. Jubes snarled, one of her paffs exploding into life at her fingertips, another spray of them circling both Daken and Callum like so many fairy lights.

The doctor might have been oblivious, but suddenly Akihiro looked nervous as Hell.

“Watch your tone, asshole,” Jubilee muttered. “My girl probably just saved Roguey’s life-”

Callum rolled his eyes and Logan and the girls growled in unison.“In what universe did she do that?” he snapped.

“In this universe,” Kitty said. “I’m trying to stop her bleeding out: Our healer Joshua won’t get here in time and we might lose her to the delay. As a doctor, I would have thought you’d understand…” She nodded towards Daken. “Just make that jackass touch her and everything will be fine, she’ll absorb his healing-”

“I absolutely cannot allow that animal to maintain contact with Marie!” Callum snapped. Shooting both Daken and Logan the kinda disgusted look woulda gotten a man who wasn’t trying to save his girl gutted, and not listening to a word Kitty said. Fucking dumb-ass. “He could still do a lot of damage with those claws still inside her-”

“We won’t let that happen,” Logan muttered. “I won’t let that happen-”

“Why, because you’ve done such a bang-up job of protecting her before now?” That self-righteous little prick. The feral gestured to the wound in his gut with one claw, teeth bared. “You see this, boy?” he rumbled. “I got this taking care o’ her. Which is a damn sight more than you can say-”

Callum put his face in Logan’s. “Are you saying I can’t protect Marie?”

Logan put his face in Callum’s. “I’m saying you couldn’t organise a fuck in a whorehouse let alone handle my girl-”

“So she’s your girl now?”

His smile was feral. “Always has been, always will be-”

“Animal,” the whelp snapped.

“Limp-dick-”

“Neanderthal-”

“Pussy-”

“Okay, that’s it!”

And Jubes paffed the pair of them, the brightly-coloured globes of plasma temporarily blinding even Logan. The chortle he heard Daken give not helping his Zen at all. His sight cleared to show him a thunderously unimpressed firecracker, her lethal little hands on her lethal little hips and an expression on her face woulda had the Devil peeing in his pants, let alone Remy LeBeau. “Attention morons!” she snapped. “We so don’t need this: We’ve got a Wolvie-on-Rogue shish kabob going on so drop the pissing contest and deal, capisce?” Daken twitched as if he were about to make a break for it and she paffed him in the balls. Twice. Even Callum winced. “Now you two are gonna help me dose our girl with Captain Dumbass here’s mutation until she heals, and then you are both gonna get down on your knees and beg her forgiveness for being such prize dicks. Because I swear, you keep this shit up and I’m gonna talk Rogue outta staying with either of you. Or kicking your asses, whichever comes first.” She shot Logan a vicious look.

“And frankly, Wolvie,” she added in an undertone, “I expected more from you.”

Logan shut his mouth with a snap at that.

Grabbed a hold of Daken then, yanking the leather glove he was wearing off his hand and forcing his bare flesh towards Marie’s. Suitably chagrined at having been given that rarest of things: a moral dressing down from Jubilation LeBeau. Because you knew you were well and truly being a dickhead if Ju-Ju Bean felt the need to intervene, there wasn’t a man in the Mansion didn’t understand that. And it wasn’t like it was the first time he’d made a stupid decision regarding Marie: He’d made plenty of ’em already, not the least of which had involved bringing that redhead barfly home two years ago. But he’d been so convinced he was doing right at the time. Just like he’d been convinced he was doing right arguing with the whelp just now. Which didn’t make him any less of an asshole, or any more worthy of Marie. Beside him Callum was muttering under his breath, irate at how he’d been spoken to but too spineless to try and back out now. Any worry about Marie apparently having disappeared behind his bruised ego and pouting lip. Daken was putting up a Helluva struggle, for the first time looking scared- “No, I don’t want to touch the parasite,” he kept muttering, “I don’t want to touch her-” But between them Jubes and Logan managed to force the bastard’s flesh onto Marie’s. The bastard falling to his knees with an agonised screech as he made contact, Marie’s mutation kicking in and draining him since apparently it had a lot less mercy than the rest o’ her. And a lot less forgiveness too. Daken’s eyes rolled back in his head, his healing factor racing through her, knitting skin and muscles and tissue back together beneath Logan’s wondering- and the whelp’s horrified- gazes. Red rushing to her cheeks, warmth along with it. She took in a massive breath, her chest rising as if her heart were about to explode, her beautiful brown eyes opening, finding his-

And with one swift motion she was in his arms. Pulling him close to her.

Giving him the kinda kiss that starts fires-

Because her mouth was hot and wet and hungry, every inch of her pressed against him. Fingers scraping through his hair, her little body warm and soft and alive in his arms. Everything about her screaming that she was His. Arousal flooding her scent just like it had in Vegas, but under it something he else remembered, something musky and warm and honeyed that he had once upon a time called love. The scent of it sweeter than anything else he could knew in this world, the only thing he’d ever walk away from heaven to find. She let out a little muffled sigh and Logan pushed down a wave of guilt: On some level he knew this was to do with her taking Daken’s power- She’d done this in Vegas the last time it happened, after all- But he couldn’t bear to bring it to a halt. Because she was here and alive and she wanted him-

“What the Hell do you think you’re doing?” Callum snapped then.

They broke apart, Marie looking up to see the man she’d been living with glaring at her. Lips drawn back from his teeth, hands on his hips, the pose making him look like a little fucking teapot. His expression more accusing than he’d any right to, when he was using it on a girl who’d just been at death’s door. Logan felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, the inner Wolverine taking over- Nobody talks to our mate like that, bub- but Marie did nothing. Just blinked at the asshole and then tried to wriggle outta Logan’s grasp. Unable to meet his eyes, her cheeks now flaming for an entirely different reason. Guilt and embarrassment flooding her scent. Logan put her down- it wasn’t in him to hold her when she so clearly didn’t want him- And it was only when she left his arms that the pain in his gut turned vicious. The full truth of his situation finally hitting him full force as he sank to the floor. Because-

I’ve lost her, he thought, I’ve really lost her.

And considering all I’ve done to her, I don’t even have the right to complain.

Kitty Pryde reached out a quiet hand and laid it on his shoulder then. Gave it a little squeeze, her expression kind. He looked up at her and she offered her hand, unzipping the front of her uniform and pulling out a small silver flask with the other. Muttering, “Don’t ask,” when he opened his mouth to inquire how she kept that hidden there, “And don’t argue. We don’t have much time for you to tell me what’s really bothering you before the team get here, and the press.” And with that she pulled him to his feet, the pair of them seeking out a quiet place to talk before all Hell broke lose-

While behind them, Marie watched Logan walk away from her. Unable to meet her gaze, guilt wafting off his scent. She felt Callum’s hand on her waist, heard his voice talking annoyingly close to her. Smelt his fear and aggravation, his disgust when he realised that she wasn’t quite as sorry about kissing Logan as he thought she should have been. Soon she knew the team would be here, and Tony, and the press, and probably Senator Osborne (she could feel Daken’s hatred of his employer burning like an itchy, angry thing under her skin) but right now she didn’t care none. Couldn’t bring herself to care. Couldn’t even bring herself to smile at Callum as he pulled her close and checked her wounds-

Because all that could fill her head and heart was the ache of Logan’s walking away from her.

And for the first time in what felt like a century, she heard her inner Wolverine growl in sympathy at the thought.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Okay: Spill.”

And Kitty gestured towards the park bench to her right. Seating herself demurely on it, ankles crossed, and holding out her little flask of whiskey like she was offering a toy to a toddler. Logan shot her his usual cocked eyebrow- he was trying so hard to pretend he wasn’t hurt- before finally settling himself down beside her. Taking the whiskey, swigging it back. Making good steady eye-contact with the grass. Someplace far away she knew that Tony Stark was talking to the press, trying to spin this positively for the X-Men but it wasn‘t her place to help. Because here and now, Logan needed her. Here and now, she might finally get him to talk. The silence spread out, punctuated by occasional birdsong and the faraway roar of traffic-

Kitty had been around him long enough to know that he’d talk when he was good and ready, that being the case.

A beat.

“I’m an asshole,” he began then. Shifting slightly in his seat, hissing at the pain in his gut though it was very slowly healing from what Pryde could see. His heart though- she knew that was another story.

But she kept the thought to herself.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, sensei,” she retorted. “That’s a fairly general observation.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m a stupid asshole,” he clarified.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” And she smiled slightly, holding out the flask again. Watching him take another mouthful, knowing that if she tried to bully him or sweet talk him he’d shut up for good. Jubes may have been his second and Marie may have been the love of his life but Kit knew he saw her as the voice of reason and always had done-

And if he was willing to talk to her when he hadn’t shared what was bothering him with Rogue, then that probably meant Marie was the cause of it. And also that he needed to talk to someone who wouldn’t paff his ass or wail on it when they heard just what sort of an asshole he’d been. Which meant he needed to talk to her and her only-

So she let another beat pass.

“Do you remember how me an’ Marie got together?” he asked quietly then. “You remember what happened- With Banner?”

“It was hard to forget.” And despite herself Kitty smiled, picturing the first time she’d seen Logan kiss Marie. He and the girls had been loaned out to help with the Hulk-buster mission and he’d gotten his ass handed to him by the not-so-Jolly Green Giant. To this day it was the most beat-up she’d ever seen him: He’d literally looked like a walking corpse. The Hulk had held him in one fist, lifting him high in order to land a killing blow- When suddenly Marie had metalled up using Pyotr’s mutation and darted into the middle of the battle. Snatched him from the creature’s clutches and then hightailed it back to the jet. He’d argued all the way, yelling about how she shouldn’t have put herself in danger like that and how she couldn’t be so fucking reckless when she didn’t have a healing factor of her very own and how if she tried that again he’d kill her himself. He’d even tried to go back for seconds, just to prove he wasn’t beat. The argument continued all the way home in the jet, all the way up the stairs into the Mansion-

And then when they’d reached the Infirmary Marie had simply grabbed him and kissed him. Hard enough to make Hank’s eyes bug out on stalks. Hard enough to shut him up but good. The Mansion had cheered and just like that Marie and Logan were an item-

Though judging by the expression on his face now, Kitty was beginning to suspect it hadn’t been that simple.

In fact, judging by the way he was staring at his claws, at the grass, at anything but her, she knew it hadn’t been that simple.

The silence stretched out some more.

“The first time I kissed her was probably the happiest I’ve ever been,” he said then. Addressing his knuckles, his voice little more than a growl. She had to lean forward to hear. “You got no idea Kit- I never thought I’d love someone like I love her. I never thought I’d get that lucky, with all the evil shit I’ve done in my time-”

“Different lifetime, sensei,” she muttered soothingly. “Different man. You can’t let that stuff define you-”

“Bullshit. All you have is what you do, and I’ve done some fucked up shit in my day.” And he twisted his hands together, face turned away. Once again making steady eye contact with the grass. Kitty was surprised it didn’t up sticks and run away.

“Is that what you did to Marie?” she asked quietly then. “Some fucked up shit?” Because when in doubt, go fish…

“What do you know about that?”

“Nothing. Same as everyone. I just woke up one day and she was gone.” She lowered her gaze to the same spot he was staring at. Made sure to keep her voice calm. “But I’m guessing you know what happened, even if you never told anyone. And forgive me for saying sensei, but right now you’re talking like a guilty man.” She decided to push him. “So what was her name?” she asked. “Or did you catch it?”

And suddenly he let out this weird, strangled breath of a gasp. Looking…vulnerable. Vulnerable and freaked. It made Kitty nervous, because she wasn’t used to seeing him that way. “Jesus H. Christ,” he muttered. “You knew?”

What the Hell? “Knew what, sensei? Knew what?”

And then-

Anger seethed through her as realisation dawned, for Marie’s sake more than her own. He was trying to stand but he couldn’t, thanks to the stomach wound and had to settle with running a hand through his messy hair instead: He must have read her expression because immediately he started back-pedalling, fit to set her teeth on edge. “It ain’t like you’re thinking,” he was muttering. “I mean- I can’t figure out whether what I did was better or worse, but it wasn’t cheating. It was just sex, and it was just the one time-”

“How could you?” she demanded. “How could you do that to Rogue? Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve caused?” And she crossed her arms angrily, more to restrain herself from thumping him than anything else. When she’d pushed him she hadn’t thought she was right: She’d just figured his righteous indignation at being accused of cheating would get him past his nervousness to the point where he’d spill. But now- “Let me guess,” she bit out. “It was some random barfly, wasn’t it? Some skank you wouldn’t have looked at twice if Marie was there. For fuck’s sake, sensei! Did she have red hair or had you abandoned that particular cliché?”

“It wasn’t like that!”

“Then what was it like?” She stood up, for the first time in a long time wishing her power were dangerous. Like Remy’s or Jubilee’s. “Were you lonely?” she snapped. “Frustrated? Horny? Was Marie too young or too normal or not enough-”

“I did it fer Marie!” he snarled.

And he got to his feet, face in hers. The pain in his gut apparently forgotten in the midst of his doubt and rage. He had a grip on her upper arms now, so hard it actually hurt, but she couldn’t pull away. Though man, she was confused as Hell. “I did what I did fer Marie,” he was muttering. “I didn’t want- The thing with Banner, and then Sabre-tooth, and then the Hand kidnapping her- I nearly lost her too many times to let it go on.” He let out a howling puff of breath, his face twisted in frustration. The grip on Kitty so hard he’d leave a bruise. “She wouldn’t listen, Kit,” he was saying tightly. “She thought she was immortal, all three of you did-”

“But we were the best of the best-”

“Dammit woman, it’s not about being the best! It’s about being flesh and blood!” And he put a twist on those last words, spitting them like they were a curse. Which to him, she supposed they were. “Don’t matter how good you are,” he was hissing, “All we need is one psychotic little critter to have a Good. Fucking. Day. And you’re worm-food. Gone. ’Cept unlike me, you girls don’t come back from the dead.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose, shoulders shaking. She’d never seen him so upset. “It had happened before, don’t you get that?” he was muttering. “She died on Liberty Island: I felt her go. She wasn’t breathing, she was so fucking cold. The kids in the Mansion tell that story like it’s a fucking fairytale but if you’d been there-” And he shook his head as if to force the image away. Hands twisting, the knuckles turning white. Kitty winced and he seemed to belatedly realise how tightly he was holding her because he forced himself to let her go. To step away and get a grip.

They both let out a sharp breath then.

“Look,” he growled after a moment, “I don’t expect you to approve. I know what I did was stupid and shitty- But it wasn’t about getting some. And it wasn’t about her not being enough, or any o’ that shit. It was about not wanting her to die because she seemed to be in love with an asshole who’d done nothing to deserve her his whole life and had a job that kept her in danger pretty much every day.” The hazel eyes looked into hers, as close as she’d ever seen him to pleading though what he wanted her to give him she didn’t know. “Ya gotta believe me, Kit,” he was saying, “I couldn’t protect her. I tried but I couldn’t. So I did the one thing I knew would make her run far enough away to protect herself. I planned it, I- I let her catch me with someone else-”

And just like that he sat down. Fight gone out of him.

Leaving Kitty to close her mouth with a snap and sink back into her seat.

They were quiet for a really long time after that. Logan scowling straight ahead of him, Kitty staring into space and trying to process what she’d heard. A couple of joggers passed them but sped up when they saw Logan: His expression was apparently scary enough to put people who’ll run through Central Park for fun to flight. Kitty tried to make sense of what he’d told her, but it was useless: How could he have trained Marie, how could he have had her on the team, if that was the way he felt? How could he ever have led her in the field? And yet- He’d never been able to deny her anything. He might make her work for what she wanted, but he’d give it to her eventually all the same. And he adored her, even now that was obvious: You didn’t need to be a telepath or a genius to understand the way he looked at her. The way he’d looked at her even as she’d walked off with the idiot boyfriend of hers today. Kitty tried to put herself in his place: If it had been her in Logan’s shoes and Pyotr in Marie’s, would she have done the same thing? If, like Rogue, Pyotr had developed a knack for getting the crap kicked out of him on missions and still walking away would she have handled it any better than the Wolverine? And the answer was obvious: Of course she wouldn’t have. She’d just have talked it through with him instead of going off half cocked and punishing herself for the things she hadn’t done. Stupid asshole is right. Inwardly Kitty sighed: The weird thing was that she could understand Logan- Though she couldn’t agree with him. Because she still knew she wouldn’t have wanted the choice taken from her, and if she loved someone she wouldn’t have wanted the choice taken from them either, no matter how much it cut her heart. But then things looked different to you, when you were a girl who’d spent most of your life fighting for the chance to make that choice for yourself-

A beat.

“Well,” she said softly, “I guess you’re right then: You’re an asshole.”

He lowered his head, shoulders hunching. Mouth twisting into a thin, straight line.

“Told you,” he growled. “Least I’m honest.”

“That you are.” And she took one hand, pulled is towards her. He tried to give her a smile but it came out strained. “The thing of it is, though,” she said softly, “You’re our asshole, Logan. Me, Jubes and Marie: You’re ours. And when you’re hurting- that means we’re hurting. When you ache, we ache. That’s what family is.” His face twisted in pain at her words and she laid her head on his shoulder, gave his hand another little squeeze. He gave a puff of breath that was almost like a sigh as she did it, resting his cheek on the top of her head. Man, he felt tense. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do to change that,” she continued after a moment. “Not to me, Jubes- Or to Marie. And that’s what this is really about, isn’t it, sensei? You want to tell her the truth but you think she’ll hate you- And if you don’t tell her the truth you think she’ll hate you anyway and leave. Whichever choice you make you feel like you’ll lose us-”

“I don’t deserve you.” He sounded like he was trying to keep his voice even but he wasn’t quite managing it. His hand was tight in hers. “I never deserved any of you. What I did- Heart in the right place and all but I still made Marie cry… And that’s just not fucking good enough. Not fer my girls.” And from sheer frustration he pulled his hand free, let lose the claws.

A passing jogger yelped.

Kitty cocked an eyebrow. “So why tell me this at all?” she countered. “Why get upset, why get into a pissing contest with that dick she’s dating if you’ve accepted that you shouldn’t be in her life?”

““Dick”?” he muttered. “You really don’t like that guy, do you?”

“No, I don’t. And you’re trying to avoid my question.”

He gave a ghost of a smile. “Shit: That trick works on Jubes-”

“Well I’m not Jubes. And you’re not answering.” Again she gave his hand a squeeze, claws and all. “So stop squirming and tell me why.”

He stared at her hand on his for a full three minutes before he finally answered her. “Because I still love her,” he said eventually. “Because- Because I’ve had two years of life without her and I don’t like it none. Won’t ever fucking like it, I get that now. Maybe it makes me selfish, but I don’t care anymore…” And he squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head heavenwards. His free hand suddenly pressing hers down against the blunt side of the blades. “She’s wasting her life, Kit,” he said softly. “It was okay when I thought she’d be better off, but that boyfriend of hers is a prick. And if she wants to waste her life on a prick then at least she should waste it on one who’d do anything fer her.” He looked up at her, the gaze clear and hunter-bright and honest. “I guess what I’m saying is- I want her back. I want her back and I think I need your help to make that happen.” A beat of silence. “Please, Katherine. Please.”

And with that he dropped her hand. Went to move away.

Kit couldn’t let him: She’d never heard him say please before, not even to Marie.

So she met his gaze, calm and measured, and then very slowly nodded. Laid one hand on his cheek. “Okay sensei,” she said. “Okay. We can do that- We can work on getting you back with Marie.” He opened his mouth to thank her and she spoke over him. One finger levelled at his lips. “But understand something: You ever hurt her like this again and I’ll feed you to Sabre-tooth. Hell, they probably won’t even find the body: The Hand will be the only people who know what’s happened to you. Understood?”

“Understood. If I’m ever that stupid again I’ll hand myself over to them gift-wrapped.”

“That is a very disturbing image, sensei.”

“Thank you, I try.”

And with that they shook, nodding. Both understanding exactly what they were asking of the other, and starting to make plans.

While to their left, surprisingly unnoticed, Callum Montgomery frowned and put his camera-phone away. Making sure to save the photos as he did. Because after all, he’d only taken one picture of that animal and his current prospect-

But one picture should be more than enough to convince Marie.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

What on earth did women see in that Neanderthal? Callum wondered.

And the doctor folded his camera away, smoothing his clothes as he did so. Moving quickly, careful to check over his shoulder and ascertain whether the hairy Canadian and his newer, more docile piece of tail were following behind. Because after all, he couldn’t risk that degenerate making it to Marie before he did. Thankfully, however, they weren’t: they were probably still back there sucking face or licking one another’s toe-nails or whatever else they did to get their freak on. And doubtless doing it in public too, in a place where good, honest, dog-walking people could see them- Which was just plain wrong. Callum shook his head disgustedly: It was sick, the way the older man was clearly playing on the feelings of a younger, more innocent girl like Kitty. Disgusting the way Logan was so shameless when it came to getting what he wanted from the women around him. And they let him! Didn’t even make him pester them or persuade them: All he had to do was throw one of those annoyingly machismo-saturated looks their way and the girls practically swooned. Even Marie. No, especially Marie. The Doctor humphed in annoyance: Even before Jubilee and Kitty’s intercession with Daken he could see the effect being around Logan was having on his girlfriend. See the way her eyes lit up when she realised he was alive. From the moment she got out of that jet she’d totalled her gaze hadn’t strayed from Logan’s for more than a second-

And as soon as she’d had a chance she’d jumped the guy. Literally. Slobbering all over him like a fat man slobbers over chocolate, or a drowning man greets air.

The moment she’d opened her eyes after Daken healed her (and on a side note, what the Hell was that about?) she launched herself at Logan like Kennedy had launched the Space Race at the Russians- And the effect had been similarly spectacular. In fact, considering how far she’d stuck her tongue down the feral’s throat Callum was actually impressed she’d managed to get it back out again-

Not that it had bothered him. At all.

Not that he was at all jealous that never once in their two years together had Marie kissed him like that. That he’d never once seen her…glow for him the way she lit up for “her,” Wolverine. And he wouldn’t have wanted her to, he told himself. After all, his Marie was sensible, steady. Not flighty or overly emotional like most girls he knew. No clinginess, no dangerous, upstart passion marred their relationship; She was almost epic in her detachment from the romance most women saw as their due. And for that reason he was sure that once he got her back home they could put all this leather-clad nonsense behind them. Start making plans to buy a house and have a family and maybe a dog. Everything would be fine so long as he got her away from these people- especially Logan- and once he showed her the photo he’d just taken he knew that would happen. Knew she’d come running back to him with open arms. Because once Marie realised that Logan was fooling around with young Kitty Callum doubted she’d ever speak to the feral again-

And that was precisely what hr wanted, even if it meant that he’d know he would always be her second choice. After all, two years was a lot of time to invest in someone without any hope of return on your investment-

He saw her up ahead then.

She was picking her way through the remains of the X-Men’s jet, her face a mask of concentration. Expression troubled, breathing through her mouth from what Callum could see. Her hands were still gloved, the fingers digging into her palms so tightly that if it had been bare skin she would’ve drawn blood. She looked tense and worried and beautiful- Though not in a way that Callum liked. Because this was the Marie he knew belonged to Logan, the Marie who’d called herself Rogue. And Callum knew as sure as eggs were eggs that this Marie wouldn’t let him away with any of his usual manoeuvres or tricks when he spoke to her-

Which meant that he’d take a smidgeon of pleasure on showing her what was really going on between Kitty and her precious Wolverine.

He didn’t like that fact about himself, but there it was.

“Hey, you,” he said softly then. Stepping up to her and pressing a light kiss to her temple, shooting the bloodied leather uniform a disapproving look.

She noticed. “Hey yourself,” she retorted. And then, realising how rude that sounded, “Sorry shuggs, Ah’m just trying t’keep outta trouble until the worst of Daken’s mutation wears off.” She shrugged. “It’s making me grouchy. That and the Stark versus Osborne smack-down.” And she gestured to the right, where a large crowd of reporters had gathered around Tony Stark and a newly-arrived Senator Osborne, hurling questions at them and demanding to know what had happened with the X-jet today. Also demanding to know whether the reports that Stark had been seen kissing Miss Pepper Potts by Central Park Lake were true. Osborne seemed nonplussed by the attention though Stark didn’t looked fazed by it. In fact, he was so relaxed that he actually shot Marie a cheeky grin, too quick for the gathered reporters to notice-

Forcing Callum to remind himself that soon she would be back in Lawrence, Kansas with him and out of harm’s- and the charming boy billionaire’s- way.

“Look, Marie,” he said then, spurred on by that thought, “I have something I want to show you, but I’m not sure how you’re going to react.” Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “But I still think you deserve to know, so- so I’m just going to come out with it and let you make up your own mind.” And he took his phone out, pulling up the photo of Logan with Kitty Pryde. Telling himself he wasn’t feeling at all gleeful about doing this- Even thought he knew that was a crock. He pressed the cell into her hand, screen up- showing the feral with his arms wrapped around Pryde and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head- and then took a step away. Waiting for her to explode, for the tears and the anger and the tantrums to start. But Rogue didn’t do any of that, not even for a minute.

Instead she turned to stare quizzically at him. “Why are you showing me this?” she asked.

“What do you mean, why am I showing you this?” he said. “It’s Logan. With Kitty.”

He didn’t mean it to, but he suspected that last sentence made him sound like a fourteen year old girl.

“And your point would be?” she retorted mildly.

He rolled his eyes. “That they have their arms wrapped around each other and they’re kissing- he’s kissing her-”

And then Marie did the most unbelievable thing she’d ever done in front of him: She started laughing. Loudly. So loudly in fact that she stopped the press-conference going on to her right.

For a second silence reigned as the entire group- reporters, passers-by, sundry superheroes- stared at Callum and Marie like they were crazy. The doctor’s embarrassment mounting with each second that passed. But Marie didn’t seem to care, because by this point she was bent over double, trying to catch her breath. Not even looking at the picture, just laughing for all the world to see. “Oh darlin’,” she puffed out in between giggles, “If you think that’s what kissin’ the Wolverine looks like then you’re one innocent little Yankie!”

And she slipped on the muddy ground, landing on her ass because of her laughter. Not even stopping to sit upright because apparently she still found it funny as Hell.

Callum was scandalized. “So you’re saying that he behaves this way towards all of you?” he hissed. “What are you, his harem?” And he tried to grab his phone back- no, he wasn’t being petulant- though she kept holding it out of his reach. Still laughing like a little kid. He’d never seen her so amused in the two years he’d known her, and something about that thought made him uncomfortable, though he didn’t want to investigate why.

“We’re not his harem, darlin’,” she was telling him breathlessly, “We’re his family-”

“Family?” Callum snapped. “And what does that make your relationship with him, then? Incest?”

That sobered her some. “Hey,” she said, “There’s no need to be nasty-”

“You just laughed at me in front of all these people and you’re saying I’m being nasty?” She was unbelievable.

“Ah didn’t laugh at you,” she said soothingly, “Ah laughed at what you said. You were making out like there was something going on between Logan and Kitty-”

He narrowed his eyes. “And how would you know there’s not?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Because Kit wouldn’t do that to Pete,” she said primly.

“And who’s Pete? Her boyfriend?” he snorted. “Because having a boyfriend doesn’t seem to stop the Wolverine-”

Marie got to her feet. “He’s her husband, Cal!” she snapped. “And for your information it takes two people to cheat-”

“Well, you would know.” Now it was his turn to laugh. “Is that why you’ve been eye-humping that hairy animal since the moment you got here, Marie?”

Now she sputtered. Now that Logan’s honour had been brought into disrepute. Slut. “Ah have not been “eye-humping,” anyone!” she snapped.

“Could have fooled me! After all, what the Hell else is skin-tight leather for?” And he went to grab her arms, rage finally boiling over. The stress of how far this was going from the way he’d planned robbing him of the ability to see how epically stupid that would be. Because as soon as he made contact with that leather-clad arm she flipped him. Knocking him onto his back and then placing a single high-heeled boot to his chest. She hadn’t even broken a sweat doing it, and once again Callum felt a surge of embarrassment at how public she was being with all this-

But then, he supposed he shouldn’t have expected anything less, considering how much he now knew about the kind of woman she could be.

“Nobody manhandles me,” she bit out then, “You got that?” She was staring at him like she’d never really seen him before, and something in Callum twisted at the sight. “And nobody insults me or mah family, because that way lies a world o’ pain.” She was wearing her Rogue face now, and Callum had to be honest: it scared him a little. Something told him that Rogue would never put up with him the way Marie had done. “Now Ah’ve spent the last two years with you,” she was saying tightly. “Ah’ve spent the last two years pretending you’re what Ah want. And Ah’m sorry Ah wasn’t honest. Ah’m sorry Ah let you think Marie was all there was to me. Ah’m even sorry that Ah hid mah heart away after what Logan did to me, because it would’ve have been braver and more honest to just go through the pain and deal. But you know what, Callum?” She put her face in his. “You’re not what Ah want. Haven’t been for some time now. And it took nearly dying- again- for me t’realise that Ah’m wasting mah life with you in Kansas-”

Somehow he found his voice. “Why?” he snorted. “Because your precious Logan’s not there?”

“No,” she said softly. “Because Ah’m not there. Not me, the real me.” She gestured to the suit, pride colouring her face; in his peripheral vision Callum saw Jubilee give a bright grin. “Ah’m an X-Man, shuggah,” she said. “An X-Man. That’s who Ah am, who Ah’ll always be. Ah’ve been saving the world with Logan and mah girls and mah team-mates for longer than you were in medical school, and to be perfectly honest, that means Ah fuckin’ rock.” She moved her boot from his chest, shook her head sadly. “But you can’t handle that, can you? You’ll always need me to pretend this part o’ me doesn’t exist. And that being the case, you’re gonna haveta hit the road, shuggah-

Because frankly, mah dear, you’re wasting mah Goddamn time.”

And with that she strode away from him. Head held high, white streaks glinting in the light. Ass swaying as she sashayed away, making every male head in the place- and quite a few of the female ones- turn. Callum watched her go, not quite able to believe what had just happened to him-

While about twenty feet away, puffing on a stogie, Logan let out a small puff of breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Smiling to himself in recognition of the woman who’d just passed him by. Because it looked like he wasn’t gonna haveta romance Marie away from Callum after all-

Kitty rolled her eyes. “Don’t get cocky, sensei,” she told him. “This doesn’t change much.”

His smile widened. “It changes everything.”

And then he shot Jubilee and Remy an absolutely rakish grin.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Well, let’s hear it for Rogue!”

And Tony Stark whistled appreciatively at Rogue’s exit. Shooting a shit-eating grin at the collective cameras and giving her a little clap. To his left Storm, Hank, Jubes and Remy all rolled their eyes, the latter keeping a restraining hand on his wife though Tony didn’t care any. After all, that had been waaay too entertaining for him to keep his opinion to himself. To his right he could see Pepper put her head in her hands, the oh-so-familiar expression somewhere between horror and amusement on her face. She had a black eye, her arm was in a sling and her business suit looked like it’d been through a tornado but he could honestly say he’d never seen her look more beautiful than she did right now: No matter what that Daken bastard had done to her she’d come through it in one piece. She stuck her tongue out at him for staring and his grin widened. “Yeah!” he whooped. “Let’s hear it for the hottest X-Man on the planet, yeah? Look at her go!”

As she passed his podium Marie shot him the finger.

“Just a little ball o’ Southern sunshine!” Tony cooed. Then ducked when she turned momentarily back and tossed the wing of the Blackbird his way before sashaying away.

You deserved that, Pepper mouthed at him.

I know, he mouthed back. But I’m totally hot so you don’t care.

He couldn’t help but notice that Miss Potts didn’t contradict him on that, so he decided to grin some more.

The boyfriend was struggling to his feet then. A bitter look on his face, the expression almost a mirror of the one Senator Osborne was wearing. Apparently neither man liked the idea of an empowered woman wearing leather- Or tossing around bits of aeronautics. (Though strangely enough, Tony was willing to bet that Rogue and her leather uniform would feature prominently in both men’s late-night reveries for years to come. After all, it was usually the ones who liked self-possessed woman the least who fantasised about them the most.) Osborne was grinning smarmily at the cameras, going to help the boyfriend up. “You okay, son?” he asked stoutly, making a big deal out of helping him stand after the big, scary mutant babe kicked his ass to the curb.

“I will be, sir,” Callum answered, laying the pain on a little thick. After all, he’d only been winded: Tony knew first hand what Rogue could inflict if she took it into her head to hurt you. “I just tried to tell her the truth about someone-” he sounded bewildered, “And then Wham! She went for me-”

Osborne looked into the nearest camera. “Isn’t that always the way with these mutants, though?” he said, doing his best impression of Charlton Heston. All serious and sonorous and like he should be leading the Roman Legions into battle. Unfortunately it was a tone that would play well on the Evening News, Tony knew. “Aren’t they always reacting with violence to the most general of actions? Always hurting those they purport to care about?” Osborn shook his head mournfully despite the murmured misgivings of the crowd around him and Stark’s skin literally crawled. “Tell me, son-” Son? Tony thought, Why hello Pa Walton- “How long were you with that little…Hellcat?”

“Two years, sir,” Callum answered. “We’d moved in together.” He lowered his head, trying to look Aw, Shucks and Tony silently wondered what drugs Marie had been taking to make this creep appear anywhere on her radar. “She said she had to come up here to a, “family emergency”- he shot Logan and the girls a sullen look- “And then the next thing I’m on the ground and she’s abusing me. Saying a nice, normal guy like me- who’s a doctor, by the way- isn’t what she wants. Isn’t good enough for her. All so that she can get back with that bastard there, the guy who picked her up in a bar when she was only sixteen years old and started… grooming her-”

That had not been a wise choice of vocabulary on Callum’s part.

Because in the space of a second Logan had cleared the clearing and was standing by the younger man, pinning him to the podium. His adamantium-laced fist placed tightly against the underside of the young man’s jaw, Callum’s shirt-collar tangled in his other hand. The younger man’s Adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he tried to swallow and suddenly they had the attention of every reporter in the place. Tony shot Osborne a look and the bastard was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

Not for the first time during all this, Tony suspected that things were going exactly as he’d planned.

“What was that, boy?” Logan growled then.

“No- Nothing,” Callum babbled. “I- I-” his gaze met Osborne’s and he suddenly seemed to gain some bravado. You could practically see his ball-sac growing in size. “I just repeated what she told me,” he said, his voice getting stronger. “She said she was sixteen when you picked her up. Only sixteen. And you-” The younger man shook his head- “It’s like Senator Osborne said on the news, the X-Men have been hiding you for years. You’ve an arrest history as long as my arm- murder- drug-trafficking- r-rape-”

“Say what the fuck?” Logan snarled and the claws came loose. The rest of the X-Men moved forward, obviously preparing themselves for trouble, Osborne’s shit-eating grin widening in glee as he indicated to his security detail to hold them back. Inwardly Tony sighed: Logan was absolutely playing into his hands with this big n’ scary routine, and while the feral didn’t care one look at Ororo Munroe was enough to convince Stark that she did. Just as he was sure the rest of mutant-kind would do if this shit made the nightly news. Jubes and Kitty were moving forward, trying to get to their pack-leader but one of Osborne’s Secret Service goombahs stood directly in their path: They couldn’t reach him. And since Osborne knew that those girls couldn’t afford to attack a member of the armed forces on national television it was a good bet they wouldn’t get there any time soon. Which left precisely one person who was near enough to Logan to have a snowball’s chance in Hell of getting through to him-

And that person was Tony Stark.

Yay me, he thought dismally. And sundry other epithets that mean I rock.

“Take it easy, man,” he said then.

Moving forward and putting his hand on Logan’s shoulder as if he wasn’t at all nervous. Which was a crock because Logan was one scary fucker, but if there was one thing Stark understood it was the power of a photo op. “C’mon, Wolvie,” he said softly, “That moron’s nothing but a bigot. It wasn’t him Rogue kicked all that butt for, now was it? It wasn’t him she went into Hell to find. So who cares what he thinks?”

“They’re trying to make out that I hurt my girls,” the feral bit out. It really seemed to be bothering him, and from the corner of his eye Tony saw Daken grin. “They’re saying that I abused Marie, that I’m like Daken-”

“You are like Daken,” Osborne called from that nice safe bosom of his body-guards. Jubes and Kitty glared at him with unmitigated loathing. “You’re nothing but an animal, nothing but a menace to society, you proved it today.” He began to pace, hands behind his back, playing to the cameras. Liberally pouring salt onto a wound which was still so clearly fresh. “Everyone knows the stories about the Wolverine,” Osborne was saying, “Everyone’s heard of the things you’ve done. The mighty Wolverine, the man who brought down the Hulk! The man who brought Elektra Natchios back from The Hand! At least when you tagged yourself to the X-jet today you actually left witnesses-”

“That was Captain Dumb-Ass over there!” Jubes snarled.

Osborne’s look was patronising. “Prove it,” he said. “Go ahead, Missy. Prove it. Prove that it wasn’t your beloved Wolverine hanging from that plane. Prove it wasn’t your beloved Wolverine endangering all those civilians in Central Park. Because a mutant’s word won’t stand up in a court of law-”

“Then how about my word?” Pepper snapped. She’d darted through the security detail’s perimeter and she was holding her Blackberry like it was a lethal weapon. Despite her frail build in that moment Tony thought she looked scary-and sexy- as Hell. “I’m an upstanding citizen, and I’m pretty sure I pay my taxes,” she was saying. “And yes, I work for a war-monger like Tony Stark but someone’s got to keep him out of trouble and I guess that someone is me.” There was a smattering of polite laughter at her joke, but then she’d known there would be: She learned to play the press from a master after all. “I’m a good, decent, law-abiding citizen, Senator Osborne. I’m one of the people you say you’re trying to defend. And you know what?” She stepped in front of Osborne, towering over him. Tony sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whoever had invented four inch heels. “I know that it was Daken and not Logan who kidnapped me,” she said. “Tortured me. And then tried to murder a kid to gain leverage against his enemies in a remarkably public display of spite.” Osborne narrowed his eyes at the unspoken accusation but said nothing. He really didn’t need anyone discussing that. “And do you know how I know? Because I was there for it. I have the bruises, the cuts. The burns. The photos. And if you want to call me a liar, or try to keep this circus going on any longer then bring it on Normie.

Because I work for Tony Stark and believe me, you don’t scare me-”

And with that the Kick-Ass Goddess formerly known as Pepper Potts stalked away from Senator Osborne, leaving him to nurse what was left of his balls in peace.

The clearing collectively… blinked then.

Took a deep breath. Let the reality of what Pepper had said sink in. Logan seemed to recollect himself, letting go of Callum and moving slowly to stand beside Kit and Jubilee. Muttering about how blind the boy was and wondering what Marie ever saw in him, though the rage seemed well and truly dissipated by now. As if she’d been prompted, little Meghan Wynne darted forward and wrapped her arms around Logan, smushing her young face into his side and saying something which made him smile. Her little wings flapping- she’d already started healing- making her look cuter than a barrel of kittens playing with a bunny-wabbit. On Christmas Day. Wolverine wrapped one of his big arms around her, pressing a heavy hand to the top of her head and the cameras went wild, camera flashes appearing everywhere. The image of the tiny girl and the huge feral the kind of thing that made the cover of Life magazine. Osborne glared, looking about as far from his happy place as Tony could ever remember him looking, making for his limousine-

And as he did so, he turned to look at Daken now everyone else was focussed on Logan and Pixie.

Giving the feral a tiny, almost imperceptible nod-

Which was when all Hell broke loose.

Tony only had a second to register that gesture, to think how weird it was and how unfortunate that they didn’t have it on camera and then something- some terrifying, out of control thing- seemed to leap in his chest. Dart through his blood-stream, moving through him with the strength of a hurricane. Smashing his self-control to smithereens. And it wasn’t only him, everyone present felt it: They were all suddenly bent double, their eyes rolled back in their heads, their bodies twitching in barely suppressed rage. Some of the reporters fighting each other, going at their colleagues with the callousness of wild dogs. Even Logan seemed to experience it though not as badly as the others, and instinctively he drew Pixie to him. Watched as Jubes made for Gambit, as Kitty made for Colossus and Storm. With the distraction in place Daken easily slipped his bonds, knocking his guards away and trying to run. Letting his claws loose and slashing them at Pepper, hissing and spitting at Pixie as she sheltered behind Wolverine. Tony forced himself to his feet, trying to combat the emotions careening through him- where did this rage come from? Where? And why did it arrive so suddenly?- and forced himself towards his beloved Girl Friday. Told himself to ignore the urge to attack everything in sight- Including her. He felt rather than saw a shadow- make that two- pass behind him, heard the lightest of sounds as two bodies leapt lightly into the fray. Felt a sudden easing of this new emotion, though it was by no means gone. And then before anyone could know what was happening he saw Marie grabbing a hold of Daken, Mystique behind her. Knocking him down and securing him more tightly as the Porn Smurf snickered about who was whose bitch now-

“That’s enough playing with people’s hormones, darlin’,” Marie cooed then. “It ain’t mannerly.”

“What kept you?” Pepper grinned.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

The gaijin was hurting Mother.

Yelling. Threatening her with his claws. Marie- not Marie, it wasn’t her- curled in on herself, her little hands covering her ears. Trying to drown out the sound of that foreign bastard. Trying not to hear what was going on. Blood was wafting on the air, hurt and worry and arousal thick like perfume- Mama pleading with the gai-jin, begging him to stop. Begging him to leave her alone. He didn’t listen though; he struck her, his big fist terrifying and obscene against her cheek. Telling her that she was nothing, laughing as she tried to get away from him. Following, kicking at her on the ground. Mama let out a sob, eyes widening, turning glassy with tears and then- Daken heard it. That awful, hideous sound- snikt. The same sound his own claws made to this day. For a split second nothing happened, Mama just stared at him and then- Blood was spilling out of her like it would never stop. There was death everywhere, redness everywhere- On his hands, on the floor, on the ceiling and Daken wailed- screamed- howled like an animal. Like another Wolverine. His fault, he couldn’t save her- It was all his fault- But it couldn’t be, couldn’t be- he wouldn’t let it be that-

“Ah know what you think the Wolverine did,” Marie said then.

Not looking at Tony. Or the team. Or even Osborne- though she now knew that that bastard would need to be watched like the snake he was.

Not looking at Logan. Or her girls. Or even Pepper- though she knew it was rude not to answer the woman who’d just kicked so much butt on behalf of her Wolverine.

No, Rogue’s eyes were fastened on Daken Akihiro where he lay at her feet. His teeth drawn back in a snarl though Mystique was subduing him nicely- And taking a worrying amount of pleasure in the task. The feral hissed, turning away from her, and she shook her head, trying to clear it. She could feel his memories hammering at her, feel the ache of everything he thought he’d experienced screaming through her mind. When she’d detected the flood of hormones he’d let loose in the clearing- thank you feral super-senses- it had somehow acted as a recall trigger for his memories, caused her to access all his rage and humiliation and self-justification and doubt. Caused her even to access the fact that he knew Logan was his father, and while on some level she wasn’t surprised- she’d suspected, in some way, ever since she caught his scent- on another she was horrified. Horrified that Logan should be asked to take responsibility for everything, for the feral monster beneath her and everything he had become. Rogue had no doubt that that was what Daken wanted: He blamed Logan, it was why he’d been so eager to take Osborne’s proposal despite the Senator’s obvious anti-mutant leanings. If it could be staged that Wolverine went mad and killed his family- and the world and his mother recognised herself, Kit and Jubes as his family- then people would see the older man for what he really was. People would finally believe that he was the bastard who’d taken Daken’s mother away. And of course if he was then that scared little boy Daken had been might not feel so alone anymore. Might not have to live with the things he’d done. Might even convince his mother’s ghost to stop haunting him-

And Marie knew there wasn’t a man, woman or child on the planet that Daken wouldn’t tear asunder if it meant he could have that.

So she forced herself to breath deeply, centring herself. Walking around to nudge the feral with the toe of her boot, crouching down when he looked up to spit at her and meeting his hazel eyes- The establishment of dominance being an important issue right now- and letting him take her scent. For a split second he held her gaze, probably trying to psyche her out and when he realised it wouldn’t work he thrashed, earning another mocking punch from the Porn Smurf- Marie really wished there’d been someone else to help her subdue him but everyone else had had the ragies- and muttering vindictively in Japanese. It didn’t scare her; one little boy with Daddy Issues was hardly gonna terrify Logan’s Mean-Streak, after all. But she needed him to go on the record about what Osborne had paid him to do- her mutation-gained testimony would probably not be legally admissible- and she needed him to do it yesterday. So little as she might want to Marie knew she would have to play nice until she spilled something… No matter how much it set her teeth on edge.

After that, far as she was concerned the crows could have him. He’d hurt her, he’d hurt her man and he’d hurt her family: The sonofabitch could burn.

“Ah know you think he murdered her,” she repeated then. Drawing his attention back to her. “Ah know you think he killed…Itsu? That was her name, wasn’t it?”

“You don’t know jack shit, you worthless fucking slut!” Daken snapped.

Marie heard Logan give an angry hiss of breath, felt more than saw him take a step forward but Kitty stopped him: The kitten knew better than to let him walk into a situation like this half cocked.

“Woulda thought you were above name-calling, Daken,” Rogue said conversationally instead. “Ah mean, ain’t that what was done t’you? Name callin’? Daken means mongrel in Japanese-”

“Red-neck bitch don’t know what she’s talking about,” he hissed.

“Red-neck bitch knows precisely what she’s talking about,” Marie retorted- in Japanese- “Just like Ah know what’s going on inside that wicked, sick little mind o’ yours. Just like Ah know the things you tell yourself at night, to make yourself believe what you do is okay.” She tapped her temple, eyes narrowing. “Ah got you in here, little man. Ah got you crooning inside mah head, whining about how it’s not your fault and Logan got what was coming to him. About how you never had a chance until Osborne came your way.” She hunkered closer, her bare skin tantalisingly, frighteningly close and she smelt his panic spike, however much he tried to hide it. He really didn’t like the idea of being in her skin. “But that’s all bullshit,” she hissed. “All of it. You took that mutant-hating bastard’s money and you turned on your own kind-”

“They were never my kind!” Daken snarled. “There are no others like me, except for the Wolverine.” To her right Marie heard Tony Stark whisper to one of the reporters to turn her mike on and was relieved to detect the whirr of movement as it burst into life. It was quickly followed by several others, enough to insure that even Osborne couldn’t pay off every source. “You’re too fucking right I took Osborne’s money,” the feral was snarling. “You’re too fucking right I screwed that bastard Logan over when I had the chance!” To her left Marie saw Pepper and Jubes smile in relief that he’d admitted something, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think this was over yet. Because man, Daken was pissed. “Where the fuck was “my kind,” when my mother was murdered?” he was snarling, “Where the fuck were my kind when I was being kicked from foster home to foster home because nobody wanted a haafu gai-jin dog?” And he began struggling, for the first time making the Blue Bitch look nervous- since she knew she was no more popular with him than Marie. “I can tell you where my father was,” he hissed, “He was busy fucking his three foreign whores and calling it family- Family, as if he even fucking knows the meaning of the word-”

And suddenly, without the slightest warning, Daken popped the claws on his right hand and wrist. Forcing the shard of bone through his own shoulder- and into Mystique. Causing her to hiss in pain and fall back, using her wound for leverage as he swung himself to his feet- and making for Kitty and Jubes.

It was a family reunion of the worse kind.

Instantly Marie jumped back, tumbling out of the way of a nasty swinging slash and getting distance. Stumbling to her feet, stance ready for fighting. Jubes, Kit, Gambit and Pete- kin all, in one way or another- preparing themselves to fight even while Logan swung the still-nearby Pixie out of the way and joined the fray. His claws out and ready, the fact that he still wasn’t fully healed no bother to him though it sure as Hell bothered Marie. For a second the little girl looked pissed but then Rogue saw Storm nod to her, heard Hank mutter that she needed to start transporting this crowd now. The stench of rage and anger had suddenly flooded the clearing again, heady and musky and sweet. Daken was clearly trying to amp up the crowd again only this time he didn’t seem to care whether he made them turn on each other- or him. It was the problem, Marie belatedly remembered, with using his mutation to summon emotions: While he could trigger the hormone surge which controlled rage or lust he couldn’t control who the victim felt it towards- Anymore than he could magically make it go away once it had served its purpose. The human body just didn’t work that way. Right now the entire clearing was angry at him: Rogue couldn’t be sure whether he was suicidal or just plain wanted to kill people but clearly his own safety was no longer important to him, he was determined to go down with the ship- And determined to take everyone with him.

Which, she thought, ain’t gonna happen on mah fucking watch.

So Marie started breathing deeply, trying to remind herself that whatever she felt right now was just a manipulation: She’d a bad temper on her, she knew that, but she didn’t need to let it take control. Anymore than the rest of the team did. To her right she could see Pixie trying to organise the crowd into groups, the little one obviously releasing her own brand of hallucinogens to keep them calm. Neither Daken, Logan nor Marie (at the moment) could be affected by Pixie’s mutation but that was less than could be said for the rest of the crowd- who were suddenly grinning, laughing at whatever shiny, happy scenario the junior X-Man had conjured. Trying to hug- a couple of the girls even tried braiding one another’s hair- while the men tackled one another and rough-housed like kids. Storm and Hank shushed them like stern parents, the little girl ordering everyone to hold hands, telling them that she was going to bring them a surprise-

And then Meghan muttered something, her eyes turning black, slashed wings fluttering, before the entire group-senior X-Men included- disappeared. The car which had been holding Senator Osborne and the remains of the Stark jet vanishing too, with an unnatural sounding pop! For a split second Marie let herself be impressed- once that kid learned how to handle her emotions she’d be quite the X-Man- and then instantly she was back in the game. Facing off against Daken, her, Kitty, Jubes Gambit and Pete at Logan’s back. The LeBeaus tried their hands first, Jubes’ paffs blinding Akihiro while Remy tried to charge one of his playing cards but Daken easily handled that: He went straight or Jubilee, slashing at her with both claws, digging his claws into her side and drawing blood. She let out a low, harsh scream, a string of choice cuss words and a barrage of paffs but instantly Gambit was by her side, his opponent forgotten. Nothing more important to him than his belle petite. Inwardly Marie growled: It was why Remy and Jubes never fought on the same team when they were X-Men, they couldn’t be relied upon to concentrate when one or the other was hurt. Remy scooped Jubes up- “Take her, Gumbo, she’s bleeding,” Logan hissed- and making off in the direction of the Mansion. Already calling for backup, demanding the team’s healer Joshua be teleported in right away. Daken used the distraction to slash at Logan, swinging low and clipping the tendons in his knees, knocking his legs from under him. Another vicious, clawed blow digging straight into his throat and severing the tendons there. Wolverine fell and instantly Marie went to him, placing herself in front of Junior and keeping him away from his father until he could heal. Trying not to notice the way he was bleeding, trying not to remind herself that his healing factor was still screwed- Oh no, shuggs, no- Ah just found ya- Ah don’t wanna lose you again-

Daken grinned. “Nice move, red-neck-” he growled.

Marie glowered. “Go fuck yourself, asshole-” she growled right back.

And then suddenly Colossus swung his heavy, metallic fist forward, his speed greater than would be expected from a man his size or weight. Kit’s grip on his shoulder keeping the rest of him phased even as his knuckles made their way towards Daken’s teeth. The punch hit Akihiro’s jaw, his foot going instantly to the feral’s balls in an unmercifully hard kick: It might not have been gentlemanly but it got the job done. Just as picking him up by his ball-sac and tossing him a couple of feet did. Daken hissed in pain, stumbling backwards and then suddenly he was back on his feet, taking both sets of claws, driving them upwards towards the vulnerable veins on Pyotr’s neck, his roar of rage uncannily like Logan’s own- For a split second Marie thought nothing would happen- the younger feral’s claws weren’t adamantium after all- But then in a move far quicker than she’d yet seen from him Daken reached out and yanked Logan towards him. Grabbing him by the wrist and swinging the adamantium claws right through Pete into Kit. It was a smart move: the molecular denseness of the metal was one of the few things that would disrupt Kit’s phasing ability and instantly both she and Pete became solid, Pete’s metal no match for Logan’s own, the giant Russian suddenly realising he had a bellyful of adamantium in his gut. He stumbled though he didn’t go down, pulling back and launching himself at Daken again, trying to beat him through sheer superior strength and bulk. Knowing he had to keep the bastard away from Kitty or God only knew what he’d do. Daken slashed at him- his claws, though they looked like bone, actually managed to cut the metal- and while Pete was reeling Logan suddenly forced himself forward though his legs were unsteady, cannon-balling into the younger feral with all that he had. Digging his claw into his sides, twisting and gouging just like he had on the plane. Marie darted after him, her gloves off- she might not wanna be dosed with that bastard again but if that was what it took then she’d do it- and just as she reached the two ferals she saw Daken dig his fingers into Logan’s neck, the scent of rage and fear and sheer adrenaline spiking as he did so. The hissing, cloying perfume of it drowning everything else out. For a second the world seemed to stand still, the stupidity of what he’d done shocking Marie into silence-

Because he’d given Logan every hormone and pheromone he had.

He’d essentially over-dosed the feral, and now there was no way to stop its effects- the hormonal surge would have to run its course-

“Get Kit out of here,” Marie hissed to Pete then.

Because Logan let out a howl, an ancient, angry, feral, vicious sound unlike any she’d ever heard him make before. The sound seeming to be dragged from his toenails, or maybe his entrails, the anguish and sheer animal rage in it unlike anything she’d ever seen in him before. Daken had to know that this was suicide, had to know that the Wolverine would turn on him- It was why he usually used lust as a distraction, it had less of a body-count attached- but the stupid bastard didn’t seem to care any. Or maybe he just hated his father that much. Because he was laughing as Logan turned to look at her with eyes that were not those of the man she knew or loved. He was laughing as the Wolverine gave one lethal jerk of his wrist and chopped all three of Daken’s claws off at the root, laughing as he howled in victory and took his prize, holding the claws aloft. The younger man was breathing hard, the effort of what he’d done taking the last of his strength- “Family,” he was whispering, “It’s all about family,”- and then, more loudly- “She hurt you, father,” he said, “Don’t you remember that? She hurt you and broke your heart- Surely that’s worth a little payback, isn’t it? Surely it’s right to show the bitch what you can do?” And his laughter grew louder as anger and fear- confusion- bled through Logan’s scent, turning it sickening. Making it cloying with fear and rage and lust. This wasn’t him, Marie knew this wasn’t him: it wasn’t Logan staring at her, eyes glassy and lit with something she’d never seen before, something that was older than spoken word or human custom. Something that wanted to be free. But still- he wanted to hurt her now, she could feel it. The animal wanted to pay her back for every ounce of humanity she had brought out in the man. Every time she’d made him feel weak, every time she’d made him feel loved. If there was one thing Marie understood it was the desire for vengeance, the will to hurt someone who’d badly hurt you: What else had the last two years been about? What else had disappearing and moving in with Callum been? She’d wanted to punish him for breaking her heart and now the animal in Logan, the thing that didn’t care how justified she’d been, wanted to do the same to her. Wanted to punish and frighten and kill- Because after all, she’d broken his heart in return. Daken grinned at her, raising his head, winking- And then making a half-hearted attempt to slash at Logan, knowing doubtless what it would bring. Without even glancing backwards Logan slashed his neck hear clean from his shoulders, the blood spattering everywhere. That mocking, wicked laughter finally dying in the younger man’s throat. Marie had seen a lot of death in her time, some slow, some fast but this was so calculated. So nonchalant. It was almost as if the Wolverine thought it were swatting a fly. Logan ghosted towards her, bloodied claws out, teeth showing and out of his mind on someone else’s hormones-

And Marie didn’t move.

Held still. Made sure to turn her skin’s mutation off.

Because whatever Daken had dosed her man with, she…knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

She couldn’t have explained why she knew this; it made no earthly sense- But she still knew it was true.

After all, they were family through and through.

So she took a step towards him. “Logan,” she whispered softly, “Logan, Ah know you’re in there-”

The Wolverine snarled- didn’t like his human name, apparently- and padded ever closer to his prey. Bringing his claws up against her throat, staining her with Daken’s blood- But not cutting her and not moving away. Just staring at her, the feel of it devouring. The sense that the rest of the world had ceased to exist one she couldn’t push away. Marie knew that her heartbeat was hammering, knew he must be able to smell her terror- But she didn’t falter. She just reached gently up and ran three small, bare fingers down the edge of his left claw. Let her hand rest on his knuckles, there where the claws came out- “It hurts, right? It hurts when they come out?”-

It was the right thing to do.

Because the Wolverine hissed, jerking at her touch as if he could actually feel through the metal- But not pulling away. Marie took her opportunity, stepping closer to him. Running her other hand up to touch his cheek, the bristle of his mutton chops harsh against her skin. Stroking, coaxing him gently. Whispering soft things she didn’t remember saying, the hand that was at his knuckles threading through his fingers and joining palm to palm. For a second he snarled defiantly and then- His big warm hand raked against her back, pulling her to him. The weight of his hand heavy and possessive against her ass, the hands shed twined together hanging at his side. She cocked her head, offering her throat- she knew he liked that, he’d never have admitted it but he did do- and as she did so she felt his warm, soft mouth land on her skin. Felt his kiss there. Felt his breath and his tongue warming her even as his arms wrapped around her waist and she wrapped hers around his neck. For a second it seemed like time had completely stopped and then- “Marie,” he said, very softly, like he was afraid the word would bite him, “Marie, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry darlin’…I never meant to hurt you…Jesus, I’m so sorry…”

And then he was holding her so tightly she thought she’d never breath again. Rocking her in the only arms that had ever been strong enough to hold her, telling her he was sorry and that he loved her over and over again. Pleading with her not to hate him, that it really hadn’t been him. As if she didn’t know that. Marie wrapped her arms around him just as tightly, holding him in place like she thought he’d disappear. Trying to show him that she was okay, that he hadn’t hurt her. That she’d never, ever believed he would turn on her like that, no matter what Daken did. At some point Pixie returned with Kit and Jubes (Joshua had had a lotta repeat business today) but Marie couldn’t say she noticed. She was too busy relearning the emotional topography of this- of her and Logan- to even notice when Callum came back to collect his med kit and humphed in annoyance at what he saw. Later on there would be questions, arguments, explanations- She was pretty sure she’d throw some stuff and she was pretty sure he’d employ the kinda language he felt bad using in front of Storm. But here and now everything was good. Solid. Here and now they were them again-

And it felt fucking great.

Gambit reached into his jacket and pulled out a fifty. Then another. Handed it to his wife as he watched them, muttering vindictively under his breath in French. A beat of silence passed and then Pyotr did the same- minus the en Francais swearing. Bobby, Storm, Hank, Lorna, Joshua, Loa, Cannon-ball, even Pixie grinning and joining in. Handing over a bunch of money that pretty much meant the beers were on Jubilee. In fact, thanks to the pool the only person who didn’t owe Jubes money was actually Kitty-

But then you should never bet against Marie and Logan, Kitty knew that-

It was a fringe benefit of knowing your family through and through.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

It had all gotten kinda quiet, after that.

Reporters, cops, recently-caught-out-and-unfortunately-still-breathing-Senators, they all disappeared back to whatever holes they’d crawled out of. Some quietly, some not so quietly. Some demanding access to a lawyer (that’d be Mystique) and refusing to roll over on what she knew about Osborne until Stark offered her a massive bribe- Or, as Pepper Potts insisting on calling it, “a proportionate and fair contribution to her legal defence fund.” S.H.I.E.L.D had shown up to clear the area as expected, Nick Fury personally coming over to say hello to Logan- Though not Stark, which Marie thought was kinda funny considering how far up the billionaire’s ass she suspected Fury had his hand. Pete Parker had swung through to help with the clean-up, stopping only to say hello to Rogue before getting to work. The amused grin he shot Logan over his shoulder not helping the Wolverine’s mood any though it made Marie smile for the first time that day. It had all felt so awkward: In the two years she’d been civilian Marie supposed she’d just forgotten the weird, wired vibe everyone had in the aftermath of a fight. Forgotten the jagged way your emotions tended to race, the way nobody could sit still or relax. It was why the X-Men had accepted Stark’s invitation to come back to his place once the scene was released: Nobody wanted to go back to the Mansion. Nobody felt like pretending they were fine. They weren’t fine, that was the point. Kit had nearly lost Pyotr, Gambit had watched Daken slice through Jubes. Marie had nearly seen the man she loved (albeit in a complicated, fucked-up way) murdered before her eyes and Logan-

Well, Logan had come face to face with his worst nightmare. He’d turned into an out-of-control animal, the kind that attacks anyone who cares for it simply because they do. Didn’t matter to him that he’d stopped himself from hurting her. Didn’t matter that he’d probably saved her and the rest of the team. Didn’t even matter that it had taken a shit-load of synthetic hormones and a vindictive super-villain with a death wish to even get him to the place where he’d contemplate attacking her. Hell no, that didn’t matter at all. Marie had seen it on his face when he finally pulled away from her: He was ashamed of himself. Ashamed of the beast he’d let to the surface, and what it had wanted to do. He’d saved her life and nearly killed himself in the process, and he was ashamed of it-

There were times, Marie thought darkly, when she really didn’t know whether she wanted to kiss that man or beat him to death with one of his own cigars.

She heard the door to the balcony open then, heard his footsteps. Didn’t need any lingering feral senses- though she had ’em- to know that it was him. He was limping slightly- healing wasn’t at 100% and he wouldn’t let Hank or Joshua take a look- but he still managed to pad out onto Tony’s balcony. Still managed to ghost into place beside her, his beat-up body comfortingly warm and solid beside her in the cool evening air. For a second he just stared out from the balcony, the lights on New York twinkling like stars before him-

And then, very slowly, he reached out and put his hand on hers on the rail. Left it there.

There heat of his skin on hers burned through Marie with an intensity she hadn’t thought she still possessed.

“You okay?” he asked quietly then. He was staring out into space as if he thought it might turn on him or something. His shoulder felt very warm against hers.

“Ah’m good, shuggs,” she answered, “Dandy even.” And she gestured over her shoulder to the party still going on in Tony’s living room. Trying carefully not to register the worry in his stance. He was so easy to read, even after all these years. “Optimus Dick behaving himself in there?”

Logan shot her a small grin. “I think Stark’s days o’ misbehaving are well over, darlin’- Potts is gonna see to that.”

She snickered. “So romance ain’t dead- Good for them.” And despite herself Marie shot him an answering grin, forcing down the slight edge of unease that rose when she did it- After all a week ago she’d thought she’d never smile at him again. But then a week ago she’d managed to convince herself that she was gonna marry Callum and that she loved the asshole. Turned out, a lotta things could change in a week. Besides, ever since she’d kicked Callum to the curb she’d felt different. More centred. Like… Like she was finally back inside her own skin after a lifetime away. Whether she and Logan got back together or not- and she had to admit that given how good he looked right now the deck was kinda stacked in his favour- didn’t matter. She was herself again.

She’d just forgotten how to do that for a while, without Logan and her girls in her life.

Maybe he registered the change in her expression, maybe his sense o’ smell tipped him off but Logan turned to look at her then. Taking in her thoughtful expression, the slight tenseness in her shoulders, the way she was biting her lip. Marie forced herself to meet his gaze, something telling her that the moment she’d been hoping for and dreading ever since she’d found him was coming. The moment where they had that talk they’d never had and he tried to explain what the Hell he’d done. It didn’t scare her the way it once had though; It didn’t feel like the kinda thing that would break her in two. But still, it took him a full minute to do anything but look at her and when he did move, it wasn’t to speak but to brush one of her stripes gently away from her forehead.

“I’d forgotten what it felt like to do that,” he muttered then.

His fingers were hovering at her cheek, the lock of hair still between thumb and forefinger. The heat of his skin reaching out to her in the cool night air. “You smell the same, you know that?” he continued after a moment. “Thought you wouldn’t- But you still smell the same.” And he smiled this weird, half-sad smile she’d never seen from him. The ghost of worry- of sorrow and regret- stealing through his scent. “You know what I wanna talk to you about, don’t you?” he said.

She nodded. “You wanna- We gotta have The Talk.” And she suddenly felt a spike of the old pain twist through her chest, unexpectedly sharp despite everything. She stiffened at the sensation and he moved abruptly away.

“I been thinking about this all night,” he began then, “And I still don’t have a clue how t’do this. I mean, I’m no good with words Marie, you know that. And half o’ me just thinks I’m gonna end up making this a hundred times worse-”

“But you have to tell me.” She spoke over him, arms somehow finding themselves crossed over her chest, holding her heart in place. Suddenly it wasn’t the night air making her feel cold. “I deserve an explanation, it’s more than fair after-” And she waved her hand randomly, still not sure how to put what he’d done to her into words.

“After I broke your heart,” he finished softly. “After I-” He said the words real quick and fast, as if he were pulling his claws out of a wound but Marie still heard them- “After I let you catch me in bed with someone else.”

A long, snarling beat.

“So you-” She wasn’t quite able to believe she’d heard that. “You let me-”

“I let you catch me,” he repeated quietly. “I knew- Hell, Marie, I could smell you soon as you got off the Blackbird. I always knew when you came home.” He managed to tear his gaze away from her, looking once again out over the lights of Manhattan. Pain and regret and guilt pouring offa him, knuckles white with tension there against the rail. Marie could feel anger beginning to coil in her belly but she pushed it down: She wanted to hear what the fuck else he’d done. “I chose a redhead because I knew you’d think it was about Jeannie,” he was saying, real quiet-like. “I made sure nobody else knew, because if they had they’d probably have tried to stop you heading to our room and beaten the shit outta me in the Danger Room the next day.”

“So Kit, Jubes..?”

“You think my head would still be attached to my shoulders if either of them knew what I was up to?” he demanded. “They’da killed me- Or better yet talked me out of it before I did anything as dumb-fuck shitty as I did.” And again he looked away at the lights of Manhattan. Again he took in that deep, hissing breath. “Look, I got exactly two fuckin’ settings when it comes to people I care about, Marie,” he told her. “Angry and Protective. You know this. So do Kitty and Jubes. So does every unfortunate bastard who ever tried to date any of you-” And he turned from her suddenly- he couldn’t look at her- yanking his hands angrily from the rail. Marie could feel herself shaking but she couldn’t seem to make herself stop. “When I realised how you felt about me,” he was saying, “When I realised you weren’t afraid of what could happen- I guess I thought I had to be afraid enough fer the both of us. I thought I needed to drive you far enough away that you’d be safe- Even if it was safe from me-”

Marie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Safe from you?” she snapped. “Why the Hell would Ah need t’be safe from you?”

“Because I’m no good fer you!” he snarled at her. “The people who wanted a piece o’ me, they were always gonna be a threat to you! Christ Marie: You think the Blue Bitch would’ve tortured you so many times if she didn’t have a score to settle with me? You honestly think the Hand woulda taken you, he didn’t know you were on my team?” Logan was getting worked up, the tension of having to tell her pouring outta him. She’d never seen him so worked up in her life.“I already know what it feels like to lose you,” he was muttering, “Don’t you get that? I’d already watched you die. I felt you go on Liberty Island: You don’t remember that but I do. And before- that first night in the Mansion, when you drained me. I knew you were a split second from passin’ on because I’d stabbed you in the chest. How do you think it feels to remember that, Marie? Do you think I coulda done anything this fucking stupid if I didn’t have those memories rattling around inside my head?” And he hissed, finally letting the claws loose. Slicing through Tony’s nice, innocent balcony rail with a mere flick of his wrist.

“So you’re telling me this isn’t your fault?” she bit out. Her voice could have cut adamantium, let alone glass. “You’re telling me you hurt me because you had some nasty Goddamn memories in your head? You’re unbelievable.” And she pushed close to him, jabbing him in the chest with every syllable; She honestly didn’t think she’d ever been so fucking mad. “How about the memory o’ you being beaten by Banner, how’s that for a memory?” she snarled at him. “How about watching Magneto- the only bastard who can kill you with his brain, by the way- twist you like a pretzel because you were trying to save mah life? How about-” and she forced her face into his, making sure to make her voice as vindictive as possible- “How about waking up on Liberty Island with the only person you’ve cared about in a year bleeding all over you, and the knowledge that your mutation probably killed him rattling inside your brain? How about them memories Logan?” And she pushed him roughly away from her.

“It’s not the same thing-” he snapped.

“You’re damn fucking right it ain’t! Because Ah didn’t let it be. Ah didn’t let being an X-Man and the shit that goes with it define who and what we were!” And she turned to walk away, suddenly so angry she wasn’t sure what to do- except maybe push Logan off whatever-the-fuck-floor-this-was and see if the bastard would bounce. She made it roughly five steps before he grabbed her and swung her around to him, their bodies colliding, the force knocking the breath outta her. She swung her fist back, tempted to punch him but before she could he wrapped her smaller hand in his massive one. The other arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her until she was against him. Growling all the way. Marie struggled- she wasn’t above kicking or hair-pulling, and she was getting outta here Right The Fuck Now- but it did no good. He had to much of a hold on her. And wasn’t that just the perfect fucking metaphor for their relationship? she mused darkly. Wasn’t that just her and Logan to a T? For a second he didn’t say anything, just kept that vice-like grip on her body and then-

He sighed. Laid his forehead on hers gently. Eyes closed, breath coming sharp and heavy, apparently not even caring that she could now give him a jolt with her skin. “Just stop,” he was saying, “Just stop- That came out wrong-”

“Go to Hell!”

His eyes snapped open at that. “Been there two years, darlin’,” he said quietly. “Don’t intend on going back.” And despite her rage Marie registered the way he said it. Saw his serious, grave look, so different from the cocky bastard she normally knew. What the Hell was going on with him? “Listen to me, Marie,” he was saying tightly. “Listen to me and listen good. I love you. I know that’s not what you wanna hear- I know maybe I gave up the right to tell you that after what I did- But I promise I do. You’re balls-to-bones deeper in me than anything those fuckers from the government ever messed with. Deeper in me than adamantium, deeper than the fucking claws under my skin.”

“Ah don’t care,” she muttered.

“And I don’t believe that.” She opened her mouth to retort but this time he was the one who spoke first. “You came looking fer me even after what I’d done,” he was saying. “You fought fer me- You even saved me from myself when nobody else could reach me back in Central Park.” And he let go of her fist, fingers trailing across her cheek instead. The expression on his face everything she’d ever wanted from him, but nothing like she’d admit to wanting now. “You love me, Marie,” he was saying, “I know that. I’ll believe that til the day I die.”

For the first time she felt her throat tighten, tears threatening; He’d managed to do with gentleness what he couldn’t do with rage. “So what?” she muttered, “So fucking what, Logan?” And she stiffened, the pain in her chest jolting right the way through her, an ache she hadn’t believed could still hurt this creeping through her like a hurricane. “It’s done, we’re through, you saw to that. There’s nothing you can do about it now-”

He shook his head. “Not fucking true, darlin’-”

“You know it is-”

“I don’t know jack shit.” And suddenly, very gently, she felt his lips on her skin. Felt that warm, wanted mouth brush across her collarbone, lips trailing down until Logan was kissing her right where that ache of emotion was centred. Kissing her right on the plane above her heart. It wasn’t like in Vegas: it wasn’t mouths and tongues together, a struggle for dominance and heat. It wasn’t a kiss between lovers exactly, nor was it a kiss between friends. But it was her kiss- no, their kiss. The kind you only experience when you were with someone you actually fucking loved. Logan didn’t push it, he didn’t force her back against the railing or let his hands wander across her skin. He just kissed her softly, his arms around her and his scent in her hair and when he let her go he was shaking ever so slightly, just like she was.

Rogue really wasn’t sure why she wanted to cry now.

“I know what I did to you, Marie,” he said. He was looking straight at her. “I know because whenever you talk about it I see it there-” And he laid that big, heavy hand over her heart. Resting on the spot that ache inside her spread from, the epicentre of her pain. Now she knew why she wanted to cry. “This is a wound, darlin’,” he was saying. “I know a lot about those- And I know this one’s not even ready to heal yet.” Despite herself Marie shook her head slightly, not ready even now to admit to being hurt. But Christ, she was. “You’ve barely admitted it’s there,” he was saying, “You couldn’t let yourself do. If you’d had your family around you then you mighta done but I was dumb enough to deny you even that.” And just for a second she saw his anger again, that same rage he directed at himself when he’d spoken about being no good for her flashing behind his eyes. “You need time to heal, Marie, I get that,” he was saying, “And I’ll wait until you’re ready, I’ll wait for you. I just can’t pretend that I’m not gonna fight fer you.”

And with that he finally let her go.

For a second Rogue felt completely disorientated, the loss of his closeness a wrench despite how angry she felt. The night air jolting her like an electric shock across her skin. She didn’t know what she wanted to say to him, she didn’t know what to do; Logan had padded back over to the balcony door and was pulling it open; she could see the stress he was trying to hide from her in the set of his shoulders but she didn’t try to stop him go. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She didn’t know what on Earth she wanted to do. She just stared out at the Manhattan skyline, at the lights of the offices twinkling and she tried to work out what was going on inside her. Tried to work out what was Rogue and what was Logan and what was Marie. She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring out at the lights of Manhattan but it felt like centuries-

And then she heard Tony clear his throat behind her.

“Jubes and Kit are heading back to Westchester,” he said. Man, he sounded nervous. “They wanted to know if you needed a ride?”

“Ah ain’t going back to Westchester,” she hissed without thinking. Westchester meant the Mansion and the Mansion meant Logan, and she really didn’t think she could handle that right now. Tony seemed to understand because he nodded, raking a hand through his dark hair and making it stick up all over the place. It made him look about five years old.

“Thought you might say that so I had house-keeping make up one of the spare apartments for you. Should be enough for one night.” He shot her a tiny smile. “You can decide what you wanna do in the morning.”

Marie blinked, surprised at his thoughtfulness. “Thanks,” she said softly. “Ah just-” She shrugged. She didn’t have a clue how to say what she felt. “Ah just need some time, ya know?”

Stark nodded. “Believe me, I know.” And he reached into his pocket, pulling out a key card. Handing it to Marie brusquely, apparently as nervous as the average man around an overly emotional girl. It was almost endearing, and suddenly she could see what had Pepper Potts so hooked on him. There was more to the man than just a shit-eating grin. Marie gave him a tight nod as she took the card, checking the room number and trying to work out where it was in relation to Stark’s place. The billionaire backed towards the balcony door, his job apparently done for the night; He pulled it open and muttered something quietly to Kitty, before going to pull the door shut. But at the last minute he stopped, seemed to steel himself. Walked back to her, his expression almost like it’d been back in the underground compound. Grim and ready for a fight.

“I knew I loved Pepper about ten minutes after I met her,” he told her then. “Just kinda- clicked. Like the way you know your math’s right, or you’ve worked out the answer to a problem that’s been bugging you.”

Marie knew she was scowling. “How nice for you.”

He looked at her, real straight and steady. As game faces went, his was among the best. “It wasn’t nice for me, Rogue,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t nice at all. Pepper’s- human. Fragile. I thought she was so easy to break. I convinced myself that she couldn’t handle what life with me would throw at her, so I married someone who could. Or at least, I thought I did.” He shook his head. “Emma Frost was the toughest woman I ever met: I respected her, I might have even loved her- But not like I loved Pepper. Never like I loved her.” And he looked away, as if lost in his own memories. Guilt threading through his scent.

Marie narrowed her eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”

He turned back to her and for the first time since she’d met him Tony looked like an adult. It was the face of a man who knew his inventions cost lives. “Because I did something stupid,” he said, “and someone else paid for it. I know I got Pepper hurt, and I probably got Emma killed. Didn’t mean for things to go down like they did but shit happens and you can’t change it. You can only know you’re an asshole and try to do better next time.” He leaned closer to her, his expression intent. For a second the ache in her heart felt really far away. “I don’t know if this has anything to do with you,” he was saying, “Or to do with Logan, but I just thought I’d tell you what happened to me. Because there’s no point in being alone if you don’t have to be- And there’s no point in letting go of someone you love until you’re sure it’s the right thing for you. That’s just stupid, and you’re not stupid, Rogue-”

And with that he went back into his apartment. His expression flirtatious and happy as if nothing had happened at all. Marie waited a beat before following him inside, her expression confused, her head still reeling-

But three hours later, in the middle of a sleepless night Logan got a text message.

Stark Towers is forty five minutes from you by bike, it read.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

She was asleep when he finally got there.

Curled up on the couch of a weird apartment, the comforter from the bed wrapped snugly around her legs and her hair falling around her face. Her breath coming slow and gentle and even, her little hands curled in on themselves where they lay beside her chest. Logan shook his head ruefully: He’d run every red light between Stark Towers and the Mansion, had gotten into the building without setting off a single security alarm, had picked the lock rather than clawing the door open and after all that-

His Marie was asleep. Dreaming.

But he padded quietly into the room all the same, unable to walk away even if she was unconscious. Her phone was lying in her hand, still open, the screen still displaying an image of a tiny envelope and the words message sent: She’d probably used the last of her strength to get in touch with him before her body finally forced her to rest. It was classic Marie, post mission: jittery energy fer ages and then a crash-down. Followed by a period wherein she slept like the fucking dead. Logan had to smile: When they were together he’d often found her like this, had often picked her up and put her to bed before crawling in beside her himself. Not, of course, that he’d be doing that tonight- No matter how tempting the idea was. He’d promised he’d give her time and that’s exactly what he intended to do- Even if it killed him. He couldn’t shake the memory of the way she’d tensed when he’d touched her earlier: The ache of what he’d done to her was literally written into her body, he’d seen that when she flinched as he laid his hand over her heart. He wasn’t bastard enough to forget that, wouldn’t let himself be bastard enough-

As if she’d heard his thoughts Marie raised her head sleepily then. Opened her eyes, looked right at him. Her expression confused and sexy as Hell. It sent a shot of lust right through him and for a split second Logan actually considered barging out the door and letting her think he was an hallucination but before he could move-

“Logan..?” she asked through a yawn, “Is that you?” She was looking around, a cute little frown puckering her face. “This ain’t the Mansion…” she murmured.

“No, darlin’, it ain’t.” And despite all his good intentions Logan found himself crossing the space to sit down beside her. Reaching out and rubbing her back soothingly, the skill to calm her second nature even after all these years. “I got your message,” he told her, “And I came to see you- Though I think I mighta gotten the wrong end of the stick.” Again he shook his head ruefully, the urge to press a kiss against her forehead- and a lotta way less chaste places- making itself felt. “You go back to sleep now,” he found himself saying gently, “And I’ll head back to Westchester-”

“Like Hell you will.” She’d pushed herself into a sitting position, rubbing her eyes again. Though she was trying to sound badass the sleepy tone just made it sound cute. “Ah remember texting you,” she was saying, “Ah remember wanting you here. Ah thought you’d be asleep so Ah wouldn’t hear from you until tomorrow, but if you’re not then Ah can tell you what Ah decided-”

“Decided?” That sounded way too certain fer his liking. “You don’t gotta decide anything, darlin’, I told you that-”

She shot him the kinda look you gave a backward child. “But Ah wanna decide something, Logan. Ah wanna do a something-” She moved slightly towards him.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea-”

She rolled her eyes. “You haven’t even heard what Ah want yet-”

He rolled his eyes. “You called fer me at three in the morning, I’ve a fair idea what you want-”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” She shook her head, her expression somewhere between fond and pissed. “No wonder you’re so damn muscley,” she muttered, “The weight o’ that big head o’ yours must be something else to carry.” And she moved away from him, scrambling outta the comforter until she was standing, her little arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Look,” she said bluntly, “This wasn’t a booty-call. Ah didn’t get in touch cos Ah wanna get jiggy, Ah called ya cos Ah’ve decided what Ah wanna have happen between us.” And she put her hands behind her back, the movement doing all sorts of interesting things to her breasts. Once again pitting his inner Wolverine against his best intentions- Though who’d come out on top in that fight right now was anybody’s guess. “Look, Ah’d be lying if Ah said that we’re okay,” she was saying, “And Ah’d be lying if Ah said it could go back to the way it was before.” She looked him straight in the eye. “It won’t be like it was before, Logan, it can’t be. This ain’t two years ago, and Ah can’t forget what you did.”

He felt her words hit him like a punch in his chest.

“So do you want to leave?” he asked quietly. “Go back to Kansas?”

If she truly didn’t want him anymore he’d deal with it, but he had to hear her say it first.

She shook her head, exasperated. “No! Ah just ain’t going back to the Mansion. Ah ain’t re-joining the team- Yet.” And she raked her hands through her hair, her expression now less confident. Fer the first time Logan could see the girl he’d met in Laughlin in her. “Look, you were right when you said Ah’d a wound that needed healing,” she muttered. “You were right when you said Ah needed time. Ah do need time, Ah will need time. Time to remember who Ah am, time to figure out what Ah want. We’re talking heaps of fucking time here, shuggs, Ah know that.” She took a deep breath. “But what Ah don’t want is a life without you in it-”

Immediately Logan was on his feet. Hands on her shoulders. “No matter what you decide,” he said quietly, “I’ll be here.”

“But that doesn’t mean you’ll give me what Ah want.” And without a moment’s hesitation she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his forehead. Her arms coming up to twine around his neck. He opened his mouth to question her and she kissed it softly- It felt so fucking good- Her tongue sliding through his lips. Glancing slowly, elegantly across his own. Nibbling at his bottom lip, sucking it sweetly between her own even as her hands glided across his skin. He took in a sharp breath and as he did it she moved away to kiss his eyelids, his chin, his temple. The scratch of stubble across his cheek, tingling with the contact even as her nails kept up their delicate, torturous journey across his chest. “Ah want this,” she was murmuring, “And this-” she kissed his throat- “And this,” she twined her fingers through his and pulled them palm to palm, kissing each knuckle, “Ah want this all so much…” And she gave a little pleasure-drenched moan, the kind that sent a shot of heat straight through him. That by-passed his brain entirely and went straight to his cock. “Ah want you so much Ah can’t think,” she was saying, “Ah can’t sleep, Ah can’t see straight. But what Ah want more’n anything else-” she trailed tiny, butterfly kisses up his face towards his mouth, “Is some control Logan-”

And suddenly she pulled away. Breathing heavily. Staring at him to make sure he’d heard what she said.

Fer a second Logan couldn’t really register anything except the fact that the Miracle of Marie had pulled away and that that this was a bad thing- A Very Bad Thing- But his brain, thank Christ, caught up with him in a moment and relayed what he’d been told.

“You want control?” He couldn’t help but notice the way the word made his voice drop a register; It seemed to naturally rumble in his chest.

“Yes.” She was looking straight at him. “Ah want some control this time.”

“But you were always-”

“No, Ah wasn’t.” She held up a hand to silence him when he tried to disagree. “Ah didn’t have control when you decided to break mah heart shuggs,” she said quietly. “Ah didn’t have any control when you decided to “save,” me from the Big Bad Wolverine.” And she sighed, going to move away from him; His hands moved instinctively to hold her and he felt rather than heard her give a little sigh. “You were always good to me,” she said after a moment. “Even when Ah was a kid, you always let me make mah own decisions, mah own mistakes. It’s one of the first reasons Ah loved you, you know- same with Kitty and Jubes. Same with all the kids. You never went on with that Ah-know-what’s-best-bullshit-”

“Things were different then.”

She gave a small, sad laugh. “Yeah, they were. Because back then Ah really was kinda helpless. Back then Ah couldn’t control mah skin. Back then Ah couldn’t fly the Blackbird and or hotwire a car or kill you seven different ways using only mah thumb.” And despite himself shot her a quick smile at that memory: Kitty had taken to Thumb Murder 101 with a worrying amount of flair. “But that was back then,” she continued, her voice harder. “That was when Ah was still a kid. When Ah became big and bad and kick-ass you changed tactics, you started making decisions for me. And that wasn’t fair, shuggs, you know it wasn’t.” She looked away. “That wasn’t a decision you’d a right to make.”

“So what?” He growled, “You wanna punish me now?”

She rolled her eyes again. “No! Ah’m done punishing you, you should know that. That’s why Ah kicked Callum to the curb. But Ah wanna have some control over what we do. Ah wanna decide the pace for a while. Ah wanna-” She took a deep breath, “Ah wanna- Ah wanna be chased, Logan.”

He couldn’t have heard that right. “Chased?”

“Chased. Pursued. Lusted after.” She sounded confident, but he could hear the uncertainty underneath her words. Her body was practically vibrating with the strength of her nerves, trembling beneath his palms. This was hard fer her. “Ah wanna know that Ah’m wanted,” she was saying, “Ah want you to show me how you feel about me- With all mah clothes on this time.” At his (probably horrified) expression she rolled her eyes. “You don’t haveta sing me show-tunes!” she snapped. “Ah ain’t asking for poetry, just… romance me a bit. Let me take mah time. Ain’t had much of that in mah life, think Ah might like it. And if you can do that- or try to- Ah think we’ll be good again shuggs. Someday.” A beat. Her voice sounded tiny. “It’s all Ah really want…”

Well, there only was one answer to that.

“Where do we start?”

And she blinked at him, eyes wide as saucers. If it hadn’t been so damn attractive it probably would have been funny as Hell. But Logan didn’t laugh; instead, he ordered himself to stop stroking her arms. To move a fraction away from her. To cock an ear to her body’s responses, to start listening to-fer- her the way he hadn’t in years. He was pretty sure that this would take some getting used to fer him, but he was willing to try it-

“We start in the bedroom.” She held out her little hand, biting her lip nervously. She didn’t quite believe him yet, he could tell. “Ah wanna sleep with you,” she said softly, huskily. “You want that, Logan?” And she stared up at him through heavy lashes, chocolate brown eyes warm enough to drown in.

“No funny business?” he guessed.

“No funny business.” She bit her lip. “Just…”

“Romance?” He took a step closer to her, his arms around her. “I can do romance- fer you.” Or die trying, but she didn’t need to hear that. And he kissed her once, very quickly, like he used to do before she learned to control her skin. Squeezing her tightly, touching her over her clothing. That swift flash of heat and cloth and warming, pleased Marie beneath his hands making the beast within him growl with pleasure. The man in him doing the same. It seemed like the right move: Marie purred, began pulling him towards the bedroom. Her fingers threading gently through his. She didn’t flick the lights on, just pushed him back onto the bed, her expression somehow soft and hungry at the same time. Her form nothing but a silhouette against the pool of light spilling in from the main room. Fer a split second they just stared at one another, breaths sharp and heady and then- She was on top of him, breathing soft somethings as her nose ghosted up his throat, his face. His temple. So soft, so sweet, she was Marie…His fucking Marie… Logan growled, his hands sliding up to touch her ass, her back, skipping lightly over her shoulder blades but refusing to squeeze her. Every touch gentle, teasing. Soft against that skin that was warming to him, her breath coming in little pants now. She reached down and kissed him deeply, her hands raking through his hair, holding him close to her and moaning with pleasure but then-

She stopped, breathing heavily, and pulled away from him.

Turned so that they were side-by-side, his arm around her. The only sign of what they’d been doing the slight scent of her arousal and her erratic heartbeat.

Logan couldn’t help but feel that this was somehow a test.

“Control,” she murmured quietly, at his cocked eyebrow. That tenseness-that wound- was still there, in her chest, when he stroked her. Logan could see it only because he was willing to look.

“Romance,” he corrected, cupping her face with his hand. Fer a beat they just looked at each other, him smiling, Marie’s expression trying fer confident but hitting worried, and then-

“Control,” he said softly, kissing her forehead. “I can do that.”

And he pulled her more tightly against him, spooning her. Waiting until she was comfortable before letting himself drift off to sleep. The smell of her hair in his nostrils, the tremble of her and the hope of her warm against his chest. No nightmares came, no visions of Alkali Lake or even Daken. No horrors to frighten him, no Porn Smurf or Creed threatening those he loved. Logan fell into his sleep like he’d fall into the arms of a lover-

And though he’d never know it, Marie spent that night wrapped in his arms, truly smiling for the first time in two years.

It was a start.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Sonofafuckingbitch!”

And without a moment’s thought Marie sat bolt upright in her bed, her body flaring into life in response. Unable to remember for a moment what had happened or why she’d woken up from such a wonderful dream. Cold, biting air nipped at the uncovered flesh of her arms as her blanket fell away from her shoulders. The light from the half-closed curtains felt way too bright to her eyes. And worst of all- She was lying in a strange bed, in a strange apartment, Logan-less. Logan-free. A No-Logan Zone. There was no growling feral lying beside her; The sheets were barely warm, he’d clearly been gone a while. Marie closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose, trying to make the difficult choice between bursting into tears (What the Hell did you expect?) and killing him (What the Hell did he expect?). The memories of last night’s tenderness making her chest ache. For a beat she just lay there, awash in her own misery but then-

She noticed something.

Something white- it smelt like sugar- and delicate, which had been carefully drizzled like a trail of breadcrumbs around by the bed, its path too straight and deliberate to be accidental. Marie frowned, surprised, and despite her best intentions she padded through the apartment, following it. Stopping to note the large, palm-shaped smudge on the drapes in the bedroom, registering the vague smell of cigar smoke which hung around the front door. The sugar trail petered out there, the white powder disappearing into the hall outside; Without any hesitation she pulled open the door and looked down at her feet-

There was a bowl of strawberries sitting there.

It sat alongside a massive carafe of what smelled like coffee- good coffee- And a brown paper bag filled with beignets. Actual, New Orleans beignets. Which smelled so delicious that they made her mouth water, and were so covered in sugar that Logan had been able to use them to make that trail through the apartment that led her here. Marie tore into one, taking a greedy bite- And as she did she noticed the note at her feet, underneath the beignet bag. It was covered in sugar and thumb-prints. You were too fucking pretty to wake, darlin’, she read, so I did the smart thing and didn’t try. Storm needs a favour, had to haul ass. Will be in Wakanda until Wednesday. Enjoy the breakfast, I’ll be back soon. Logan

Marie bent down to pick up the strawberries and tried not to grin too wide.

Marie bounced out of bed- she’d overslept- and went tearing through Tony’s loaner apartment like the devil himself was on her tail. Picking up jeans (yeah, she was pretty sure those were clean) and her favourite AC/DC tee, tossing a brush through her hair and grabbing an apple out of the fruit basket housekeeping had left before thundering towards the door. Pulling out her keys, checking her cell phone. Bringing up Kitty’s number to call and say she was on her way. In fact she was in such a hurry that she almost tripped over the small box which had been left at her door-

The small, wooden box with the Wakandan writing on it.

Her heart literally skipped a beat at the sight.

Marie scooped down and picked it up all the same though, all thoughts of Kitty momentarily forgotten. Opened the ornate lid and peered inside. There was a necklace there, made out of some form of weather-beaten wood, the chunks cut roughly and pieced together but the natural patterns of the tree’s growth left intact. Here and there between the hollows in the wood there were pieces of amber, flashing brightly against the wood’s mahogany. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen before, flawed but perfect, utterly unique. And there was a note at the bottom- In Logan’s handwriting.

Saw this, she read, and thought of you. Seemed right, you know? L.

Marie walked slowly back into her apartment. Staring at the necklace, un-gloved hands running over its beautiful, rough wood. Unable to resist putting it on and looking at her reflection in the early afternoon light. She ended up being twenty-five minutes late to see Kitty, but when KitKat saw that necklace she really didn’t mind one bit-

And when she went back to the Mansion she made sure to shoot her sensei a proud grin before she headed upstairs.

“For the last time, Bobby, he’s not a fucking Skrull!”

And Marie heard a chortle of laughter behind her as Kitty hustled the newly-pregnant Jubilee towards the showers. Leaving Marie- not for the first time- to deal with Iceman’s theories on Logan’s current good behaviour. Seemed that Drake was completely unwilling to believe that a smiling, non-homicidal, apparently monogamous Logan could be the result of genuinely trying to patch things up with her and not a plot to assassinate the President. Or an attempt to corrupt the X-Men into the thrall of the Hellfire Club.

“But it’s not natural!” Bobby voice cut over her thoughts. “I went out with you, Marie. You’re good in the sack, but you’re not that goo- Ouch!”

And he winced as Logan smacked an adamantium fist into his solar plexus, the blow just harsh enough to wind him but not knock him over. The fact that he hadn’t seen it coming probably more ego-bruising than the actual blow. The blond pouted up at the feral. “Not cool, man,” he muttered, “Not cool at all-”

“Neither’s talking about my girl like that,” Wolverine growled. “You think what you like about me, Goldilocks, but reminding me you two have history ain’t fucking wise, that clear?” Bobby nodded, shooting Marie a petulant look but agreeing all the same. “And I ain’t a Skrull, you got that?” he yelled at Drake’s rapidly disappearing back. “Cheeky little fucker,” he muttered, before pressing a quick kiss to Rogue’s fingers. “You don’t listen to him, you hear?”

And with that he disappeared off into the showers, still muttering about how Bobby was an idiot, and how Betsy had proved the Skrull thing was a crock three weeks before. Because Storm had asked her to.

He didn’t see it, but Marie couldn’t help her smile.

“You want it done properly, you send in Marie.”

And Logan glared at Nick Fury, daring him to suggest otherwise. A map of the suspected H.Y.D.R.A. compound flickering like an electronic ghost to their right, the experimental manned craft they wanted to use to get inside gleaming and ready to go. Behind him Tony Stark was grinning in barely suppressed glee, the idea of Rogue being sent in to look for the Richards children ahead of one of Fury’s own clearly tickling him pink. Not that he was foolish enough to say that though; Since he’d started dating Pepper his sense of self-preservation had come on in leaps and bounds.

Wasn’t like it was before its time, Rogue mused.

“You’re sure she’s that good?” the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director barked then, eyeing Logan. He hadn’t looked at anyone else since they arrived and it was really starting to piss Marie off.

“Rogue’s the best,” Logan said quietly, “Ain’t nobody better.” And he shot her a quick, sharp smile, giving her hand a squeeze. Earning a disapproving snort from the notably gorgeous, notably lethal, notably red-headed Agent Romanov who (Marie was notably pleased to note) had barely earned a glance from Logan since she sashayed in. “So why don’t we cut the bullshit,” the feral continued, speaking over her thoughts, “and let the best person fer the job get on with it.” And he glared at Fury, daring him to contradict him. One hand still on Marie’s wrist, stilling her, the sense of delight at knowing what confidence he had in her making her grin. The silence stretched out, Fury unwilling to give in without some semblance of a fight and then-

“You have five hours,” he muttered, finally looking at her. “Then I send in Romanov.”

The Richards kids were back with their parents by dawn.

“Three words,” Marie told an admiring Pepper as she helped her try on her wedding dress, “Genuine. Samurai. Sword.”

And she grinned, unable to hide the excitement Logan’s latest gift had brought: She’d wanted one ever since she started training with a blade but she’d never been able to get one- And Logan had always refused to but one for her, in case she ended up on the wrong end of a fight. Kit could have something long and pointy, she’d often groused, but not, apparently, his girlfriend-

Though she supposed it was one Hell of an act of trust, if he was giving her something lethal and sharp now.

“He’s certainly going out of his way in the romance stakes, isn’t he?” Pepper’s voice chimed then, an amused smile splitting her face. She seemed to think Logan’s quest to earn Rogue’s trust back was entertaining as Hell, but that was only because it made her look slightly less whipped when it came to Tony “Optimus Dick,” Stark. With whom she was nauseatingly, cutely in luurve. “You two dating again?” the redhead asked, holding her hair up off her face and checking the effect in the mirror. “Or are you taking it really slow?”

Well, Mare mused, What an annoyingly good question that was.

She felt an actual, honest to goodness blush begin creeping up her cheeks then, making her feel like an adolescent. Like she was still that inexperienced, untouchable girl pining for Logan she’d once been and not the kickass, kinda-sorta-girlfriend of the famous Wolverine she now was. Because she and Logan had never dated the first time round, per se; They’d just done stuff besides sex every so often. Their life had been the X-Men and each other, and there had seemed to be no time for anything else. But now… Restaurants were involved in their romance. Meeting for coffee. Texts that he’d got home safely, phone calls that weren’t about saving the world. He’d started taking her to movies, a first in their relationship since the only thing they used to do together in a darkened room sure as Hell hadn’t involve following a plot (though it had sometimes involved ice-cream)-

And truth be told, Marie didn’t know how she felt about it.

Truth be told, she wasn’t sure what she wanted right now, or what she was doing, and that scared the living daylights outta her.

Because she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to essentially keep going steady (with all the chaste, junior high action that term implied) or whether she- Well, whether she just wanted to jump on Logan and get on with the getting it on already. Wasn’t sure whether that was a good idea, and was terrified to find out it was not. Every time she let herself imagine things changing between them the image of him with the barfly would pop into her head, or worse, the image of his face as he’d explained that he’d let her catch him cheating through some misguided sense of chivalry. And nothing put an end to thoughts of getting jiggy as quickly as that. It was so confusing, and there seemed nothing she could do to help it: It really was one of those situations where she would just have to sink or swim. But which to choose, what to do, how to handle it?

And how would she deal with finding out that things between her and Logan just wouldn’t- couldn’t- work?

A beat.

Pepper seemed to finally notice her embarrassment then because she didn’t press the point. Just let her hair down and wordlessly gave Marie a massive hug. Rubbing her back as she did so- They’d gotten tight in the few months Tony had employed her to bodyguard his Girl Friday- and shooting her friend an understanding smile. “Maybe it’s best you just go back to describing your new weaponry,” she said matter-of-factly, “And I’ll go back to worrying whether Tony will turn up at the church without an entourage of strippers or a gaggle of paparazzi-”

“He’ll turn up, shuggs,” Marie said soothingly, “He loves you.” In the last five months she’d never doubted that was true.

Pepper’s eyes met hers in the mirror. “And Logan loves you. Just have some faith in him.”

But faith was the one thing Marie knew she didn’t have.

And she supposed that was the real problem, after all.

And so it went.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. Dates became a regular fixture on Marie’s calendar, and always when they finished Logan left how they finished up to her. There were a few quick kisses- New Years’ Eve, the moment Kurt and Storm announced their engagement- but for the most part it was quiet. Placid. Exactly what Marie thought she’d want. Every so often Logan would lay his hand on her heart, in the same spot he had that first night in Stark Towers and watch her reaction, telling her when she finally asked him whether that was Semaphore for “Get me a beer, darlin’,” that it was actually Semaphore for “Rogue’s not getting lucky tonight.” But he never pushed things any further than that, he never tried to pressure her. Never even- and this was the truly surprising part- tried to run. It should have been perfect. But even Marie could see it was not.

And that was scarier than anything else.

Because every so often she’d catch him watching her, his expression somewhere between worry and hope, and her faith would fail her. The love in his expression a pain and a wonder because she didn’t know whether she’d ever be ready to return it. Didn’t know whether she’d ever be in that place ever again. She tossed and turned at night, the questions plaguing her: Was she leading him on? Was she punishing him? And sometimes, in her darkest hours- Was she still even the woman he loved that much?

Could she ever be her again?

But she kept moving, she kept trying. She kept going out with him and laughing with him and doing her best to heal. Until one night, when fate- and by fate she meant a giant, feral, magnificently coiffed and pissed off man-kitty- decided to intervene and knock her upside the head, and set her life back on course, which annoyed said man-kitty no end.

But ain’t that always the way with true fucking love?

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“I don’t need a Goddamn nurse-maid!” Logan snapped.

And he marched over to the door, yanking it open. Wincing in embarrassment and anger because the motion clearly hurt. Marie stared, putting the basin of hot water she’d fetched from his bathroom down, her expression telling him in no uncertain terms that this was the last situation in which she would indulge his Me Big Bad Wolverine Bullshit Routineä and that if she had to tie him down to make sure he got whatever help he needed she would do- Not that he would admit to needing help at all. After all, it wasn’t like being set upon by Pyro, Domino, Avalanche and Toad could be counted as much of a fight. Not by the mighty Wolverine’s high standards. But he looked like Hell, and he had to know it: Those bastards in Ryker’s had had a hold of him for nearly three hours and it was obvious what damage they’d done. Turned out, Sabre-tooth had taken Jubes’ posting footage of Kitty beating the shit outta him on Facebook and then entering it on America’s Funniest Downloads a teensy bit personal, so personal in fact that he’d staged a riot in The Vault Special Containment Unit then threatened to break out and come looking for Jubes. Knowing full damn well that she was pregnant and less able to defend herself- not that he gave a flying fuck. Cue half the NYPD and almost all the X-Men being called in to stop the riot before it got outta hand and Logan and Gambit going off on a John Wayne riff to find Creed before he could break out and go through with his threat to the Ju-Ju Bean-

And leading to Marie being woken at one in the morning to come act as chica’s bodyguard in the Mansion, in case things turned nasty. Because it wasn’t like something happening to Jubes and little Serendipity Marie-Katherine Ororo LeBeau was Marie’s worst nightmare or anything, she thought caustically. Hell no! And it wasn’t like seeing Logan limp in the door the way he had done five minutes ago was the kinda thing that made her see red neither-

Rogue, of course, being well known for her saintly sense of fucking Zen.

“Come on, darlin’,” Logan muttered then. “Get your Florence Nightingale ass back to your own room…” And he gestured awkwardly to the hall, all but dismissing her. Everything about him screaming that he was tired and worried and hurting- But still too proud to let his guard down and ask for her help. For a moment they glowered at one another, this oldest and longest-lasting argument raging between them, its manoeuvres so familiar that they could conduct it with just glares and cocked eyebrows, not even having to holler or -Christ forbid- communicate at all. She matched him glare for glare, snarl for snarl, his anger unwieldy and impossible and unmoving-

And then, as if all the strength had drained outta him Logan suddenly broke eye-contact. Turned so his back was against the wall, voice dropping an octave.

“Please don’t make me do this, Marie,” he said softly, “Please, darlin’…”

She sighed. “Ah ain’t making you do anything at all.”

And padded over to him, laying her hand gently on his cheek anyway. Rubbing soft circles with her thumb as she watched him try to force himself to relax. She belatedly realised that this was the closest they‘d been since she came back to Westchester and immediately she went to pull away from him-

This time however Logan didn’t let her.

This time he wrapped his big, blunt hand around her wrist and held her close as he could.

A beat.

“I don’t need your help,” he muttered gruffly then, still gripping her tightly.“My healing factor-”

“Is sluggish, has been ever since our adventure with Porn Smurf and Daken.” And she leaned into him more, a sense of butterflies buzzing in her belly, the need to see him well over-riding all else. She was waiting for the usual sense of awkwardness to arrive but apparently it was otherwise engaged, or maybe she was just too ragged with worry to give a shit. She could smell the stale sweat and blood on his skin and it was making her belly heat. “Why are you fighting me, shuggs?” she murmured. “Are you mad at me..?”

His eyes flashed at that. “I’m not angry at you,” he muttered, “I’m angry at me.” And he shook his head as if trying to clear it. The pain of the movement making his breath hiss. “You being…tender with me, taking care o’ me, it’s a lousy idea,” he was saying. He gestured to the basin of hot water she’d been holding.“You getting me wet in any way is even fucking worse.” He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath like he was about to do something painful. About to admit something he didn’t wanna give up. “I promised you control Marie,” he whispered finally, “And I wanna keep that promise. I wanna give you everything I promised and more. But if you start touching me I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself…”

And as if he’d admitted to a terrible weakness Logan gave her a tiny shove away, head dropping. His expression as close to defeated as Marie had ever seen-

While Marie’s heart burst into life in her chest.

Because in that second of apparent defeat she finally realised what was wrong, what was keeping him away from her. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to give her what she wanted, it was because he did. Seven months ago, when she’d asked for time he’d given it to her. When she’d asked for control, he’d given her that too. And now, when he was hurting so badly he could barely stand and was so worried about Jubes that he could barely keep the claws in check- He was still trying to give her what she wanted. Still trying to put her needs before his. She didn’t know why she hadn’t seen it before, didn’t know what made tonight so different from any other night. But in that moment she knew, knew with a certainty she’d never felt before: She was first with Logan. Always had been, always would be.

It just took seeing him this hurt and still trying to take care of her that finally got that through her thick head.

She took in a deep breath then, feeling it filling her. Feeling it push away two and a half years anxiety and misery and redhead barflies and doubt. Feeling it push away the fear that he wasn’t what she wanted anymore and that she’d never be what he’d wanted again. Feeling it push away everything but the desire to take his heart in hers. Adrenaline began to surge, her pulse hammering: The last time she’d felt this excited she’d discovered the off-switch for her skin. But this was more than that, more than the joy and hope of control or even normality. This was knowing you were in the one place in the universe you were supposed to be and you knew why. She reached up on tiptoes and kissed his forehead, his eyelids, then his cheek again. Ignoring the hand he’s placed back on her heart- “This hasn’t healed, Marie,” he was muttering tightly- “It is healed, shuggs. Now let me touch you-” and pulling him closer. Kissing him, her mouth finding his as if she’d done this every day since she got back here. Her tongue sliding out to taste him, to swallow him down. For maybe a second Logan held still, determined not to respond but then- Then-

His mouth was on hers, his breath coming in sharp and quick and hungry. Arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her so close she thought she might collapse. He reversed their positions, the full, delicious length of him pressing her against the wall and she pulled him close, letting him bury his head in the crook of her neck. That warm, wet mouth working against her skin, his hands coming up- yes!- to cover her breasts. Heat flooded through her, wetness pooling between her thighs; His tongue flicked into her mouth, those warm hands moving all over her and making her squirm. He was bruised and battered and perfect and Logan-

And he was hers. Hers. Always had been. Always would be.

In that moment she couldn’t imagine how she’d thought anything else.

So she took his hand, pulling him towards the bathroom. Reaching down to remove the last of the X-suit and throw it outside. Logan’s gaze followed her as she moved to turn on the shower, as she began slowly taking off her own clothes. Eyes darkening fit to make her belly quiver as she removed the last of her underwear and stepped inside the shower’s warm spray. She took the soap and began lathering her hands- “You still wanna play nursemaid, darlin’?”- before holding them out to him. Her soapy, slick fingers tingling with the thought that they’d soon be touching him again. After a second’s pause he stepped under the spray, making to take the soap off her-The desire to give not take as strong in him as it had always been- But she held the soap out of his reach and began rinsing his shoulders instead. His smooth, warm skin every bit as perfect as she remembered against her own. She kneaded his arms, shoulders, pressing her fingers and then the heel of her hands into his trapezius, working her way down along the latissimus dorsi and the vertebrae until she reached his ass. Her arms snaking around to hold him to her, the hair of his chest scratchy against her palms as his nipples rose. The friction of his back unbelievably erotic against her breasts. He groaned in pleasure and she buried her face between his shoulder-blades, pressing small, butterfly kisses against his skin even as her soapy hands reached down to stroke his hips, his belly, his ass. He was hard, she could feel that, and getting harder, but when she tried to take him in her hand he slid his fingers through hers and pulled them away. Gathered them against his stomach to make sure they behaved. “You start washing down there,” he growled as he nipped along her neck, “Then this is gonna be over real quick-”

“Maybe Ah want it quick,” she whispered.

“Maybe I don’t.” And he kissed her again, wet and hot and searing, so hard she thought that maybe her heart stopped for a beat. His arms lifting her easily off the ground, his face buried in the valley between her breasts. Tongue darting out to taste her nipples, hot breath searing them and making them rise. Before she knew what was happening she had one leg hooked around his waist, her mound pushing wetly against him. Her soapy hands roaming around to anchor themselves in his ass, drawing a tiny hiss of pleasure outta him as her nails dug in. The hot water pounding down on them like rain. “Tell me,” he was growling into her skin, “Tell me what you want, Marie- But don’t say you want this over- Don’t say it has to be quick-”

She put her hand on his face, staring down at him. Letting those painfully intense hazel eyes meet hers and stare. “Ah wanna feel you inside me now,” she murmured, taking his hand and guiding it down between them. Blinking rapidly as she felt his warm, heavy hands against her wet curls. “Ah wanna feel you inside me so fucking much-”

“That I can do.” And she took his mouth for another kiss, even as one long, thick digit slipped inside her. Her wetness coating his fingers and making the most delicious, slippery friction against her skin. He broke the kiss, his tongue tracing its way down her torso even as his hands continued moving within her. His hair slick with the shower’s spray, water drops hanging on his lashes and beard. Marie moaned at the sight, a stream on incoherent pleas and orders tumbling outta her mouth; She knew what he was about to do before it even started but that didn’t stop the jolt of pleasure and sheer lust go through her as his tongue joined his fingers’ exploration. The flat, rough broad-side of that nimble muscle running across her clit in one quick stroke, his other hand gently caressing her inner thigh. She gave a strangled gasp, felt more than saw his mouth pull into a grin against her. Felt his lips and teeth find her clit and suck-hard- the sensation making her hips buck against his jaw. A pleased rumble went through him as she did and suddenly the most important thing in the world was his hands, his fingers, his tongue in her. The rhythm he was setting making her spasm and shake. Marie arched her back, her hands raking through his hair- “Please, Logan, please”- while her fears slipped away and her body took over. Riding higher and higher on waves of pure sensation, the fire in her belly singing through her blood. He sucked at her clit hard one last time and she shattered apart, screaming so loud she probably woke half the Mansion- But she was beyond caring. Beyond anything but the feeling of Logan between her legs. She slid down to the floor, her legs finally going out from under her and he came with her. Still lapping at her pussy as if she were his favourite dish, kissing her with her juices still on his mouth. Marie let out a sigh of pure satisfaction, every nerve in her body tingling with release and he kissed her again. Caressed her. “That was-” she breathed.

“Romantic, darlin’?” he grinned, biting her ear-lobe. “Worth the wait?”

“Totally fucking awesome was what Ah was gonna say.” And unable to help herself to burst into giggles, the stress she’d been carrying finally winding away, her fear with it. His expression softened at the sight. “Ah’d forgotten how much Ah loved doing that with you,” she murmured.

“I couldn’t forget how much I loved doing that with you.” He was nuzzling her thigh now, his grin mischievous. The hazel eyes glinting as they looked up from her lap. “So you didn’t mind being in control fer a bit?” he teased.

“If Ah knew control felt like that Ah’d have tried for world conquest years ago-”

He nipped at her hip. “Not too late.”

“Way too late.” She growled playfully. “Besides, the only control Ah want right not is here- with you.” And she moved to straddle him, delight shooting through her at the look on his face. Because he wasn’t horrified or angry that he wasn’t leading, he looked like he thought this was really fucking…hot. Hot enough to let her push him onto his back, his rough laughter spilling through the bathroom. Hot enough to not complain when she yanked a towel down to the floor and set about drying him- “Don’t want you catching a cold, shuggs-” the soft cloth removing the last of the grime and the blood, as well as the last of his bad mood. Within moments they were a tangle of towels and legs and biting, nipping kisses that made her pulse race. The desire to do more than get dry making them scramble back towards his bed in another tangle of kisses and laughter and sweat. For a few minutes they just made out there on the floor, Marie breathless, Logan purring softly in his chest the way he used to do. The vibration of it travelling through her hands, her lips where she kissed across his heart-

And then he reached beneath his bed pull out something.

A single, long opera glove that she remembered wearing two years ago, its silken green sheen glimmering in the light. For a second he just held it against his nose, breathing in the scent- “The live you smells better, darlin’,”- and then without any explanation he twined the fingers around one hand and the end around the other. Holding it out to her, stretching it as if trying to illustrate its length. Grinning like a kid who’d just thought of the best game in the world and wanted her to try it- Better yet, wanted her to play and win. For a moment Marie frowned, not understanding-

And then Logan placed the glove face down in her hands and turned away from her. His eyes closed, his breath held in anticipation. Smiling as he lowered his head and tugged her playfully towards him, at which point Marie finally got what he wanted her to do.

She placed it across his eyes and pulled it taught, letting him adjust to it.

And then, with a single stroke, she pulled the ends together and tied the knot.

There weren’t words, at least none that she knew of, for the sound he made then. A…shiver went through him, the feeling of being temporarily blinded pulling the reaction outta him as she doubted anything else would have done. The look of…peace? Contentment? Which crossed his face unlike anything Marie had ever seen. For a moment she couldn’t help herself, she just stared at him, unable to match this new and mysterious creature with the man she’d loved all these years. Unable to believe that this gruff, commanding person would give so much of his trust to her. And this was about trust, she did not doubt it; He was giving her his, just as surely as he would be asking for hers when she took him inside her again. A strange, heady, erotic feeling stole into her stomach at the thought, nervous butterflies of energy dancing up her spine as she watched him. The feeling growing stronger as she moved to gently kiss him. As she wet his lips, blowing gently on them before moving to kiss him again. Repeating this with his throat, his back, his shoulder-blades. Twining her hands in his and pulling them above his head on the floor, tracing the path of his claws beneath his forearms with mouth and teeth and nails. As she teased her way down to his heart. He gasped at the sensation, hips bucking, heavy arms twisting until their most sensitive spots were bared to her. Letting her bite and nip and suck until he growled deep in his chest from frustration, his hard cock pressed into her belly with need. “Tell me what you want, Marie,” he whispered, “Tell me…”

“All Ah want is you,” she whispered. “All Ah want is us…”

“Then take it, darlin’,” he said, voice husky with arousal. “Take it all.”

She started gently stroking him then, caressing, teasing. Using tongue and teeth and nails on his prick as she had on the path of his claws. The sensation of him thrusting into her mouth as arousing- as wanted- as it had always been. The velvety, warm cock-head a welcome weight against her jaw. His hands tangled in her hair, a snarl of pleasure exploding through him as he tugged her head upwards to kiss her, his tongue greedy and tangling and deep, drawing pleasure from every inch of her skin. She moaned into his mouth, keeping time with her fingers as pumped his cock slowly, wetly, as they ghosted across his nipples, his cock and thighs and ass. So good, so good, he felt so fucking good, and he was hers just like she was his. Every inch of her wanting every inch of him and determined to have him, so far inside this feeling she’d found with him that she couldn’t even begin to want to stop. She tugged his cock again, earning a hiss of pleasure and this time without warning she took him deep inside her. The length of him stretching her, filling her, the look on his face as he thrust his hips up to stroke her cunt almost enough to make come there and then. He growled as she began riding him, slow and steady. Growled again as she tugged his big, heavy hands upwards and cupped them against her breasts, her ass. One greedy, wet mouth latched onto her breast, his teeth taking the nipple; His other hand ghosted down to stroke her clit and thumb it, sending shocks of pleasure through her and making her shake with need. She showered darting, butterfly kisses on his face, his throat, his body even as he pinched and sucked her nipples. Even as he stroked deep inside her with that velvet-skinned, hard-and-wanted, deliciously pleasing cock. There was so much heat now, so much feeling. So much emotion in her body she thought she might burst. Their movements got faster, their kisses more heated. He was saying her name over and over now, his voice harsh with longing, the desperate need to come making him growl and grind into her, making him howl and hiss and shake how much he fucking loved her even as she screamed that she loved him. Marie let herself go, let the tension and pressure building in her fly apart even as she felt him coming deep inside her. Even as she heard his own sharp hiss at his spending himself inside her. She collapsed against him, eyes closed, breath heavily-

And when she could see again hazel eyes stared down at her, his smile almost but not quite shy. Dazzling.

A long, languid, luscious beat.

“Enough control?” Logan murmured then, stroking her back, her cheek, her belly. “Or do you need more, Marie?”

He held the glove out like a promise against her skin and grinned.

“No,” she whispered. “Ah think maybe only thing Ah really needed was you.”

And she buried her face against the crook of his neck, the wave of emotion at what had happened finally hitting her. The need to look away because looking at him would be too fucking much right now apparently something that Logan got. He held her close and rocked her, whispering soft, meaningless things into her hair that she knew meant the world to him. Trailing feather light kisses along her temple, her jaw, her cheekbones as he slowly caressed her into peace and sleep. They whispered and loved until the sun came up and never once could Marie find a shred of doubt within her about them, about what they’d just done together. She fell asleep in the dawn’s buttery light smiling at the thought.

And somewhere, deep inside her psyche, her inner Logan let out a deep, contented purr. Surveying his real-life counterpart through Marie’s eyes and satisfying himself that the moron was on the up and up. And that if it came down to it, he could totally take him in a fight.

Knew all that patience would get to her in the end, the inner Logan muttered, feeling smug as all get out.

And I didn’t even have to sing “I’m a little teapot,” once.

Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Senator Norman Osborne lost his seat in the next election, mainly due to his being caught in a sex scandal with gorgeous mutant exotic entertainer Tamsin Le Rapture and her pet sheep, Bert. The senator’s many denials regarding getting down and dirty with said mutant hoochie-mamma receiving scant notice from jaded New Yorkers. He has never however stopped proclaiming his innocence-

Though coincidentally, Mystique had been temporarily released to help the X-Men the week the story of Osborne’s fall from grace made headlines. Apparently she was shocked and appalled at Tamsin’s poor taste in johns. Though she was notably grinning as she re-entered The Vault to finish her sentence...

Gotta admit it, the Porn Smurf does have style.

The footage of Victor Creed having the shit kicked outta him by Kitty did not in fact win America’s Funniest Downloads: He was beaten by footage of a tangoing monkey wearing a sombrero hat and chaps. However Jubes’ next Facebook project, an online petition to get Creed cast as a snarf in the upcoming Thundercats live action movie, was far more successful. Rumours that he will be playing Crookshanks in the final Harry Potter film are, however, completely without merit- Yet.

Nothing of note happened to Callum Montgomery; He’s actually that boring. And just because he’s a doctor it doesn’t mean that’s likely to change. Still, he does have some interesting dreams involving the X-Man Rogue and black leather-

But he doesn’t like to talk about that. Ever.

Jubilation LeBeau delivered twins six weeks after the riot in the Vault, and about ten minutes after her husband passed out in the delivery room. She named the girl Serendipity and the boy Logan- Not that she’s hoping her son inherits his namesake’s temper but it’s kinda cool to tease the Wolvster about being a good influence and shit. Storm has already ordered the entire Mansion fire-proofed and is awaiting the onset of the twins’ powers with bated breath-

As is the Westchester fire department.

Marie and Logan were married about two years ago, somewhere outside Las Vegas. The wedding ceremony being real fucking private, real fucking successful, and apparently one Helluva good time. It was hosted by Stacey X and attended by just about every superhero in New York- Which is saying something when you think how unfriendly the groom usually is. And how many many of the guests have tried to kill or maim him over the years. Kitty and Jubes were bridesmaids, Hank gave the bride away- Though the rumour that AC/DC actually played their reception because they owed Kitty a favour is apparently completely false. Rumours that Logan has taken to actually, you know, smiling and shit these days should likewise be taken with a pinch of salt-

Though he says he prefers a pinch of Marie…

And finally…

In case you’re wondering? Roguey totally got her groove back.

And her Wolvie.

And her place on the team.

In fact, she’s back in black and really fucking happy about it- So let’s give her’n the big lug some privacy, yeah?

Because they all lived as happily ever after as the X-Men can do-