It had been three months since Jean came back from the dead, three months since she had killed Scott and Chuck, three months since she had begged him to kill her.

He had waited what he thought was a reasonable amount of time before leaving; he helped Storm co-ordinate the school’s reopening, he had wished Hank well when he accepted the president’s new job offer, he waited hopefully for Marie to return - touchable or not, he didn’t care. When she didn’t, he went to Storm’s new office - Chuck’s old one - and told her he was leaving. It wasn’t a great shock to her and she didn’t argue. “After all,” she told him with a small smile “The older kids are really looking forward to being in charge.” He helped her go through résumés of teachers looking for work in the area, and most of Xavier’s former students who turned out for the service had offered to stay and help out. He said goodbye to Storm two months after it happened.

Heading in no particular direction, and with no real plan, he rode back lanes and country roads until he felt tired enough to stop for the night. Logan didn’t know how long he had been riding, but he did know that he needed a drink - bad. Once he hit the Canadian backwoods, every bar, tavern and roadhouse all looked the same: dirt parking lots, small wooden structures, disused Coke machine by the door. Pulling into the deserted parking lot and shutting off the engine, Logan checked his watch and saw it was a little after 1am. Seeing the lights on, he decided to give it a shot - at least ask if there was a motel around nearby. He looked around a moment, unsure - he’d been here before, hadn’t he?

Finding the door unlocked, Logan made his way inside and brushed snow from his jacket as he passed an old cigarette machine. He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a shotgun being cocked not ten feet behind him.

“Heard a noise.” the old man said. “Thought it might be an animal.” He stepped forward out of the shadows, his Winchester 1200 shotgun aimed straight at Logan’s heart. He turned slowly to face the old man, noting with some apprehension the look of recognition in his eyes. “I remember you.”

“Yeah?” Logan asked, clearly a challenge. All he wanted was a beer, but he stood ready to fight if needs be.

“Yeah.” the old man spoke again, lowering his weapon and moving to stand behind the old timber bar and Logan took a seat. “Kitchen‘s closed.”

“All I want is a beer.” Logan told him, watching the old man as he laid his Winchester down on the bar. He took a bottle from beneath the bar and popped the cap.

“You got caught in a hell of a storm.” he told Logan, handing him the bottle.

“Oh, yeah.” he replied, taking a long draw of his beer.

“You heading home?” the old man asked, his voice softer than it had been only a moment ago. The two men only looked at each other for a moment before Logan responded.

“Something like that.”

Marie pulled the old, black Chevy into the parking lot and cut the engine. Looking out the windows, she saw only a handful of pickup trucks and big rigs half covered in snow - not an ideal place to stop, but the blizzard was really picking up and she needed a drink.. Though she had the heating on full and wore her green winter coat, she was freezing. *Maybe Ill get lucky and they‘ll have coffee.* Marie thought as she swiftly locked her car and sprinted across the parking lot.

Once inside, Marie pushed her hood back, taking in the warmth as well as the sights and sounds. Making her way deeper into the bar, she noticed the cage in the centre and understood at once what all the cheering was about - it was that kind of bar, one of those spit ‘n’ sawdust places where drunks beat each other up for money. Then she realised it was also the bar - the place she first saw Logan.

Logan; man of her dreams, love of her life, dashing, handsome, heroical Logan. The man who had left their home only days before she had returned. She had thought about their reunion on the way home, imagining him waiting with open arms, smiling at her as he said “Welcome back, darling.” He always called her darling in her fantasies. Or Marie. But reality he only called her kid or Rogue. She secretly hated it when he called her that - Rogue was reserved for the ones who didn’t really know her, the ones she didn’t let in. Rogue was what her boyfriend called her when he thought about Kitty. He almost said the wrong name once when they were fooling around, then tried to cover it with a cough and said he had to go.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” Marie was brought back to the present when some drunk redneck spanked her ass as she walked past his table. “How‘s about you sit that pretty lil‘ ass down, hmm?” he slurred and patted his thigh. Caught off guard and somewhere between *I‘m going to punch this guy out* and *I‘m going to get raped and killed here* Marie was rather shocked when a third option suddenly, and thankfully, presented itself - Logan.

“You want to keep your hands, bub?” he asked - a rhetorical question, one would assume, but one should never assume when it came to Logan. “Keep them off my girl.”

*Yeah, exact - wait what?*

The redneck held up his hands in surrender, insisting “Hey, man, I didn‘t know she was yours!”

“Well, now you do.” Logan stated, conversation over, and wrapped a thick, muscled arm around Marie’s waist as the redneck and his two friends made to leave.

*God,* Marie thought as Logan held her tightly against him *I can feel how hot he is through three layers of clothes!*

“Come on.” he whispered in her ear, and she shivered against his hard body. It only took a couple of seconds to get to the bar, everyone parting like the Red Sea for The Wolverine and his mystery woman. He sat her down on a recently vacated bar stool and ordered a bottle of Jack Daniels as she removed her coat and gloves. The din returned to normal once the bartender placed a full bottle of whiskey and two glasses before Logan.

“You want to be careful, honey.” he told her, handing Logan a wad of cash. “Angel like you alone in a shithole like this? Doesn‘t bare thinking about.” He leaned in close, cocking his head in Logan’s direction as the other man unscrewed the bottle cap and began pouring. “This one gets out of line, you let me know.” he told her in a stage whisper. “I just got a new shotgun I want to try out.” With that, the old man disappeared along the bar to tend to another customer, but didn’t miss Logan’s reply.

“Yeah, because that worked out so well last time, didn‘t it?” Three fingers of Jack in each glass, Logan capped the bottle and moved a glass toward Marie, brushing her bare fingers as he did. A long moment passed before he spoke again. “What are you doing her, kid?” he asked, more gruffly than he intended. He watched her thoughtfully as she fidgeted before answering.

“I didn‘t do it.” was all she could think to say. Logan’s brow creased and he eyed her curiously. “The cure. I thought about what you said and…I couldn‘t do it.”

“So, where were you all this time?” he asked, swallowing his drink at once and pouring himself another. She smiled at the tone in his voice - not angry like Bobby, or distrustful like Kitty - he was just asking.

“I went to see my parents.” she answered, somewhat sadly, and sipped her whiskey. She didn’t have to go on, after everything she had told him about her family, he could guess what had happened.

Anyway, what he was really interested in was the fact that he could touch her. The Wolverine was chomping at the bit to get free, already filling Logan’s head with thoughts and images - Marie on her knees before him, *I bet she tastes like honey* writhing beneath him, *I wonder how she‘ll sound screaming my name* her hands fisted in his hair.

“So,” she said suddenly, only now noticing Logan was sweaty and shirtless, obviously having just stepped out of the cage. “Your girl?”

“Well, nobody‘s going to lay a hand on you if they think you‘re mine.” he stated matter-of-factly.

*Dead God, Marie, stop staring at his magnificent, shimmering, perfectly hairy chest!*

“What‘s the matter, darling?” he asked, downing his drink and pouring another. “You don‘t like the idea?”

*What idea are we talking about here, the one where I belong to him? The one where we pretend? Was that disappointment in his voice? Did he just call me darling?* “I don‘t exactly hate the idea.” She told him truthfully and threw back her own drink, smiling sweetly at Logan when he refilled it for her. “Logan there‘s something I need to tell you, but I‘m not sure how.”

“Just say it, Marie.” a concerned look spreading across his face as he spoke. She thought for a moment, sighed, then stood and closed the space between them. Logan only stood there as Marie - his Marie, woman of his dreams, the other half of himself - pressed her slight body to his own larger, muscled one, her arms winding themselves around his neck. Before he could fully comprehend the meaning of her actions, Marie pressed her soft lips against his. For three whole seconds, he did nothing, unable to believe it was real.

*Oh, God, he doesn‘t want this!* thought Marie sadly. *He doesn‘t want me!*

*Oh fuck! I‘m dreaming. That‘s it, I‘m dreaming!*Logan thought angrily. *Any second now, I‘ll wake up in bed, alone. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts, I suppose.*

Wrapping his arms securely around her waist, he pulled Marie tightly against him, returning her kiss with the same intense passion he did every night while he slept. She moaned against his lips when Logan ran his right hand up her back, fisting it in her thick, auburn hair. They were oblivious to the wolf whistles and crude comments being thrown their way, focusing solely on each other. Marie whimpered as Logan nipped at her lips and forced himself not to thrust against her when he smelled her arousal.

“We have to go.” he mumbled against her lips, letting her go only long enough to grab his clothes from behind the bar and shrug his flannel shirt on. Marie did the same with her coat, then grabbed the bottle of Jack form the bar.

When they pulled up outside Logan’s motel twenty minutes later, he took his arm from around Marie’s shoulders, put the car in park, and told her to stay put. Running to unlock the door, he then returned to the car and quickly ushered her inside. With the rest of the world securely locked out, Logan pulled Marie to the bed where he removed both of their coats, throwing them on a chair near the door.

“So,” Logan started “How can I touch you now?”

“When I got back to the mansion, Jubilee pounced on me and filled me in on everything I‘d missed.” she told him, barely resisting the urge to climb Logan like a tree - a sturdy, buff tree. “We were in her room and she tripped over the blow-dryer cord.”

“Okay…” Logan nodded, if for no other reason than to show he wasn’t solely focused on the inevitable sexy times ahead.

“Well, she landed right on me, my shirt kind of rode up when I fell back and her skin touched mine. There was no avoiding it really - you know how she dresses. We were both about to freak out when I realised nothing was happening.” Logan’s expression changed then, his eyes more inquisitive.

“So, you were both on the bed.” She nodded. “And your skin was touching.” Again Marie nodded. “What did you do next?” he asked, eyebrow raised. Marie pressed her body closer to Logan’s.

“You know that thing you‘re thinking?” She bit her lip seductively and Logan grinned at her. “Not that.” He growled against her lips then.

“We should really get out of these wet clothes.” Marie giggled as he slipped his fingertips under the hem of her dark grey thermal shirt. He then set about unbuttoning the collar, admiring Marie’s soft, fair skin as he pulled the shirt over her head and a single thought graced his mind. *She‘s fucking stunning!*

“Are you just going to stand there all night?” she asked, biting her lip and looking far more innocent than she had a right to. Logan only smirked and ran his warm fingers slowly up her arms, watching the trail of goose pimples that followed his touch. Marie shivered against his body and he pulled her close, crushing her lips with his own and wrapping his arms tightly around her. Logan’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once, and Marie was quickly stripped to her underwear. Looking her up and down, Logan admired her supple body, watching the rise and fall of her small, perfect breasts as they peeked seductively from behind the lace trim of her green satin bra.

He made quick work of his own clothes, stepping out of his jeans the instant they hit the floor and stood naked before her. “Come here.” he growled, holding Marie by the waist and pressing his hard length against her abdomen. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and nuzzled his neck. Logan then trailed his left hand up her back slowly, unclasping her bra and pulling away from her only enough to remove the offending garment. He pushed Marie gently backward until they reached the bed, then lay her down and pressed her to the mattress, careful not to crush her as he covered her body with his own.

“Logan,” she whimpered between soft kisses “I love you.” He nuzzled her nose sweetly, very un-Logan, and whispered against her lips.

“I love you, darling.” He kissed her slowly and savoured her sweet taste, her heavenly scent, the way her perfect body felt beneath him. He ignored The Wolverine as he roared inside his head, once again filling his it with thoughts of Marie submitting to him as he took her hard. Logan pushed these thoughts away, not wanting to own her per se, it was more that he wanted to be part of her. Of course he wanted her to belong to him, he wanted to belong to her too, but he promised to himself he would take only what she was willing to give.

He kissed her neck softly, then her collarbone, then her sternum. Marie bit her lip when Logan’s lips reached her abdomen and he hooked his thumbs under the lace waistband of her panties. He began slowly pulling them down her legs, throwing them over his shoulder and looking her over appreciatively. Crawling over her again, Logan’s rock had member nudged her tight opening.

“I need you, Logan.” she moaned, burying her fingers in his thick, wild hair. He kissed Marie deeply, swallowing her moans and whimpers as he slowly pushed into her sweet, wet passage. He paused when he met resistance, pulling back slightly to look her in the eye. “Don‘t stop.” she whispered, rolling her hips gently against Logan’s. He growled and kissed her again, slightly harder than before, and buried himself to the hilt in one long, smooth stroke. When he was fully inside her, the coarse hair of his belly pressed to her soft, damp curls, they simultaneously sighed in relief.

*She‘s so sweet!* Logan thought, grasping her left hip in a vice grip that was sure to leave a bruise.

*I feel so full!* Marie fisted her right hand in his hair, biting her lip and bringing her knees up to Logan’s shoulder blades.

They shared a thought then, one that filled them both with a hope and light neither thought they would ever find: they were safe and warm and wanted, neither had ever felt so complete.

Logan rotated his hips gently, groaning when Marie’s inner walls fluttered around him. “Shit, you feel so good.” he said, and pulled back so only the tip of his hard, swollen cock remained inside her.

“I was thinking the same thing.” Marie sighed, biting her lip to stifle a cry as Logan thrust slowly into her. He repeated the act several times, rolling his hips as he re-entered her and watching Marie’s beautiful face as it contorted in pleasure. She stared up at Logan and raised her hips to meet his thrusts. “I want more.” she whispered, digging her nails into his scalp when he complied. Logan pushed himself up, resting his weight on his hands in an attempt to gain leverage. He groaned as he thrust hard and deep, giving Marie all he had, physically and emotionally.

He watched Marie bite her lip as she arched her back, gripping his waist and trying to pull him deeper. He grinned when her eyes rolled back in her head as he rolled his hips against hers. God, but he loved how responsive she was.

On a sudden, Logan wrapped his left arm under Marie’s arched back and pulled her roughly against him as he moved to sit up. She gasped at the sensation of his abrasive abdominal hair against her clit and wrapped her arms securely around Logan’s broad, powerful shoulders, meeting the slow roll of his hips with her own. She matched his rhythm perfectly, pressing her lips to his as they held each other close.

“Logan, please!” she begged between hot, passionate kisses.

“Tell me what you need.” he breathed against her jaw, nipping the skin there and burying his right hand in the thick curls at the base of Marie’s neck. He could smell her inevitable climax on her skin, could feel it in the tremble of her soft, slight body against his own sturdier one as their bodies moved together.

“Come with me.” she whispered, all she was able to do given her current state of bliss: right on the precipice of ecstasy. Logan was more than happy to oblige, his own end just a hair’s breadth away.

“Anything for you, darling.” he growled against her lips as he pulled her hips hard against his own. They each produced their own cries of passion as their bodies were wracked with pleasure, and neither paid any mind to the banging and yelling as their neighbour told them to shut the fuck up.

They stayed like that for an immeasurable time - Logan holding Marie tightly as she straddled him, arms still wrapped around his firm, heaving shoulders - the cold air in the room slowly creeping over Marie’s skin, causing her to shiver against her lover.

“You cold, darling?” Logan asked, a coarse whisper that ghosted over her cheek and tickled her ear lobe. Having little to no energy, she only nodded and allowed Logan to reposition them on the bed. Without pulling out of her, he laid them down on their sides and pulled the covers up over their tired bodies. “Get some sleep.” he told her, pressing his knee between Marie’s and kissing her hair. “You‘re going to need it.” He felt her smile against his chest at that, and buried his nose in the soft curls at the crown of her head.

“I love you, Logan.” she whispered and snuggled closer as his arms tightened around her.

“I love you, darling.” he whispered back and closed his eyes.

They held each other as their breathing synced up and they both surrendered to the deep, serene sleep threatening to claim them. They held each other through a long, bitter night, hail clacking at the windows as it swirled in the harsh wind outside. They held each other as the storm broke and the sun crept through a slit in the curtains, illuminating the lovers as they awoke to a new day, and a new life, ready to face whatever was thrown their way.