Rogue's stomach flip-flopped at the familiar sound. Actually flip-flopped was somewhat of an understatement. It did a wild burst of the can-can, before trampling over her sense of dignity and threatening to elope with her will power. There was a damn fine beast of a bike, crunching up the gravel at a speed no one else in their right mind would drive at.

She hadn't seen him for nearly three years. No one had. He'd all but disappeared off the face of the Earth, bar occasional contact with the Professor.

Only now, he appeared to be back.

Rogue drummed her fingers on her cluttered desk as she tried to resist the urge to stare out the window. Had he changed at all? Maybe he would still look exactly the same, taking the healing factor into account and everything. Would he still do that half smirk, half grin thing? Not that she cared of course...

She berated herself for the sudden way her hands trembled, blamed it on the Marie in her. Or possibly the Bobby. She always *had* been unsure which way he swung. For her part though she was over Logan; over the stupid childhood crush. He would walk in, and she would be fine. Cool. Distant, even. They would greet like adults, like warm friends, then they would pass the time of day and both go on with their lives.

Yes, she could see it now. He would be so impressed with her grown up coolness, that he would start to have a crush on *her* and...no. That's not what she wanted at all. Honestly. What was with her imagination today? She shouldn't have drunk all that coffee earlier.

She sneaked a glance out the window and her heart skipped a few times in her chest. Caffeine, definitely caffeine. But just one more peek. Just to make sure. Yep. It was definitely him. He looked every inch the Canadian logger; layered shirts, scruffy jeans, battered old jacket, all familiar somehow, and...shit.

Her eyes widened as he glanced up at the window and caught her staring. Gave her a wolf grin.

Fuck.

Deep breath Rogue, deeeeep breath. She could do this. She could be impartial.

She scraped her self-control back together and stood up from her desk, stubbornly ignoring the way her knees felt weak. With no other option left to her, she went down to greet him. Well, she could hardly pretend she hadn't seen him now, could she? And after all, that's what old friends did.

Think cool, she repeated to herself. Distant.

"Hey kid."

Damn he was hot.

He looked all weatherbeaten and ruffled by the journey, and she wondered if it would be inappropriate, as a friend of course, to collapse in an unresponsive heap at his feet.

"You just gonna stand there?"

Nope. When she remembered how her feet worked, she was gonna walk right on over. "Hey Logan." She gave him a genuine Marie smile. "It's been a while. How you doing?"

Damn fine, by the look of it.

"Not bad." He swung his duffle off his shoulder onto the floor and tilted his head to get a better look at her. "You look all grown up kid."

"You've been away for a long time. Not everyone stays the same age y'know." Her feet finally kickstarted themselves into action, so she walked over to him in what she hoped was a confident and sassy manner and...

"Ouch!"

*Fuck* that was embarrassing.

He reached out a hand to help her to her feet. Dammit, she hadn't really meant it about the unresponsive heap part.

"You ok? You..." he trailed off as he noticed her lack of gloves. "I really have been gone for a long time haven't I?"

Ha. So the Professor hadn't told him about that one. She managed a smile, secretly pleased about her small victory. "I can control it now." Then she shrugged. "Most of the time anyway. It sometimes gets away from me when I'm angry."

"Well I'm pleased for you kid, I-"

"Logan! Welcome back!"

Logan cocked an eyebrow as he turned to smirk at the professor. "Don't sound surprised Chuck. I know you've been watchin' me since I entered the state."

He had? And he had not told her about it? Rogue looked between the two of them. Ok, there was no conceivable reason why he *would* say anything, but still...

"Ah. Logan." That was Scott. Accompanied by this season's frown.

And Rogue felt her heart sink a little further as Jean followed close in his footsteps. She noticed the predatory way Logan's eyes glinted, even if no one else did. Well, no one but Scott, who's frown tackled new and dizzying heights of disapproval.

One big happy party, she thought to herself. All we need now is...oh look, there she is. "Hi ‘Ro," she smiled half-heartedly.

The other woman didn't notice, too busy smoothing her hair. Had she changed it again? Rogue rolled her eyes, and left them to it.

"Hey, kid?"

A voice, *his* voice, made her pause for a moment. She glanced back over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"See you later," he promised. "We'll talk."

Ok, so he'd been lying about the talk to you later part. She had made herself conspicuously available all day, but there'd been neither sight nor sound of him.

Huffing quietly to herself, she gave up pretending to watch hockey in the rec room (it was *hockey* for chrissakes, surely he'd want to come and watch that?) and decided to go to bed.

Stupid *men*. Drawing a bath, she fumed silently. She was never more grateful of having her own room until now. She didn't feel like being sociable anymore. So what if he had come home? He was an ass, and she was feeling grotty and tetchy and... whatthefuckwasTHAT?

She turned off the water. Maybe she was imagining it. There was no way that...There. There it was again! The soft click of her window lock, the scraping of wood against wood...Oh SHIT! She was being robbed! She was gonna be attacked! What if it was the Government again?

Ohmygod ohmygod, she thought to herself. Breathe. Breathe. Think about what Scott said in training. Keep your cool. Stay calm. Focused. Be assertive, like you're not to be messed with... "Don't come any closer." Her voice trembled a little. "I have a..." she looked down at her hands... "toothbrush," she added a little weakly. "And I know how to use it."

Dammit was he laughing at her? Trust her to get the only intruder with a sense of humour. "I mean it!" she added for effect.

"Good," came the response, and she almost sagged against the wall with relief. Logan. "Else your X-man dental plan would be shot."

That did it. She flung open the door with a glare. "Logan what the FUCK are you doing climbing in my window? Why can't you just use the door like everyone else?!"

He grinned. "Got the room next door to yours kid, was on the balcony and it seemed like a short cut."

"Uh huh?" She gave him her best I-believe-you...*not* face. That was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. Why use a perfectly good door when you could risk life and limb four floors up breaking and entering? It was obviously one of those stupid male things designed to prove manliness. Right up there with DIY and prodding open fires with a stick, and...why was he staring at her? She... oh!

She slammed the bathroom door shut, grabbing her robe from its hook and tugging it into place before taking a deep breath and opening it again. The door, not the robe.

He was still laughing at her, the fucker. "Relax," he said. "It was nice underwear."

"Yeah well, maybe I'll come waltzing into your room through the freaking window and see how you like it." God this was so embarrassing, she could feel her face flaming and everything.

"Wouldn't do that kid," he said with a smirk. "Won't be no underwear to be seen."

Ok. So that image made her swallow her words right back down again. Dammit, and he *knew* he was teasing her. Well, if he was gonna act all childish and juvenile delinquent, she would act all adult. Show him how much she had grown up. Do the polite conversation thing.

She took a deep breath, tried not to look self-conscious, and gave him her best attempt at a smile. "So, how've you been?" There. That wasn't too hard. She hadn't even drooled or anything.

"Not bad," he shrugged.

"Get lots of...uh...stuff...done?" Ok, probably not the best question to ask since 'stuff' tended to imply 'the bad guys', and 'done' was short for 'beaten-to-a-snarling-pulp-and-made-into-an-adamantium-kebab'. But hey, it was better than nothing.

"Not really."

And that appeared to be the end of that conversation. Ok, he was still looking at her smugly, so what next? She wasn't exactly overcome with idle chitchat ideas.

"Good journey?"

"Yup."

Again. Total conversation killer. He could have at least made up a few complaints. Given her a topic to work with. God, this pretending to be all grown up stuff was a lot more than it was cracked up to be. She settled for folding her arms and watching him expectantly instead. Waiting.

"What?" he said eventually.

"Well, you broke in here. I'm waiting for you to tell me what for."

"Oh." That seemed to throw him a bit. "Sorry about that."

And that was it? No explanation? No excuse? No falling to the knees in wanton despair and begging for forgiveness? Ok, the last part was fairly unlikely, but a girl could hope. Not her of course, but you know, *theoretically* and all that...

"Actually," he added breaking into her chain of thought, "I didn't really plan on comin' back. It just sorta happened. But now I'm here, y'know, it feels kinda good, and..." he trailed off as he suddenly looked a little more awkward. Shifted around on his feet a bit. "Look, I know I'm disturbin' you tonight, but I jus' came by to find out if you wanted to go out, get a drink or somethin'. Maybe tomorrow?"

~Guh?~

Her heart officially stopped. Like a date? Did he mean like a-

"Y'know, for a friendly chat," he added hastily. "Catch up and all that."

Oh. She forced herself not to show her disappointment. "Sure," she said easily, as if it meant little. "What sort of time were you... Argh! No I can't! It's the night of the grad ball." Ok, so now not only was it not a date, but she was turning down the not-a-date. Life was cruel.

"Oh."

Was it her imagination, or did he look a little crestfallen. "Sorry," she tried.

"Ok, well, 'spect I'll be made to come along and chaperone anyway," he said with a shrug. "See you tomorrow kid."

At least this time he left by the door.

"Bobby you absolute bastard!"

Rogue's shriek echoed across the garage. She glared at her friends, who were supposed to support her in times of need, not fall around on the floor laughing their asses off.

Freakin' car wash duty. She had nearly graduated. It was the younger kids who should have to do things like this. Ok, technically it *would* have been the younger kids, had they not pulled that stunt with Scott and the feather boa. And he had totally overreacted. It wasn't like it caused any permanent damage or anything.

She glared at Bobby, who was still grinning wickedly, the now empty bucket swinging loosely in his hand. She picked up a sponge from the floor and fired it at him. "You bastard!" she yelled again. Another sponge. "This was a new top!" She ripped Kitty's sponge out of her clutches and threw that too. "I can't believe you...ARGHH!"

She turned around just in time to see John behind her with the hose on full blast.

Five minutes later, she was cursing her friends, plotting her revenge, and storming her way through the corridors back to her room with little thought or regard of any poor soul to get in her way. She-

*OUCH!*

"Fuck. Fuck and shit and fuck again." She looked up, for some reason expecting Piotr, well usually he was the mansion's token muscled chest, but instead she found herself face to face with Logan. Damn.

He gave her a smirk. "Language darlin'," he chided playfully. "Anyone would think that..." his words trailed off as his gaze drifted downwards. And stuck there.

She knew exactly what he was looking at. Of all the days to wear her new top. Her new white top. Her new white top that did not require a bra... But she wasn't gonna run away and squeal, oh no. Not like last night. She wouldn't give the not-a-date bastard the pleasure of mocking her again. Instead she squared her shoulders, which had a rather advantageous effect all things considered, and gave him a dazzling smile.

"John and Bobby decided us girls should have a wet T-shirt competition," she lied sweetly. "D'ya, think I'd win?" She resisted the urge to bat her eyelids.

He shifted his stance slightly, looking entirely uncomfortable, gaze still firmly fixed. "I...uh... you..."

She tried to look hurt. "Is that a no?"

"It's a...a..."

"A...?"

"....what were we talkin' about again?"

"Logan," she said, in her best fake 'Ro voice. "I am *deeply* offended!"

He looked up. Eventually. "Offended? Why?" He actually looked worried. Maybe sarcasm didn't mix well with see-through tops.

"Being a bit obvious, aren't you Rogue?" Jean interrupted, as she walked past, startling Logan out of his stupor.

Rogue rolled her eyes, and pulled a face behind her back.

"I sensed that," she called back over her shoulder.

"Yeah well, sense this," Rogue yelled back, thinking the most unpleasant thought she could muster at short notice. "Cow," she grumbled, and pushed past the still prone Logan to hide in the safety of her room.

---

Half an hour later, she began to feel a little guilty. Not about Jean, hell no, but Logan had only been back one day, and she'd spent most of it being snarky and sarcastic, rather than taking the time to talk to him, as a friend.

She resolved to make amends.

Ensuring that she was fully dressed in clothes that, even should Storm decide it was monsoon season on the fourth floor, would remain opaque, she found her way to Logan's room. A hard task that took all of two steps, seeing as it was right next door.

She knocked. There was no answer.

A frown crossed her face, and she pressed her ear against the door. He was definitely in there, the TV was on.

Maybe he was offended and was ignoring her. Oh god, that would be awful! Surely he knew she'd only been teasing him? She hesitated, wondering if she should just leave it and try again later... but then that would just give him time to stew, and that was never good. It would only make him tetchier.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked again, counted to three.

Still nothing.

Right. She flung open the door. "Logan, I'm-... oh..."

She was not prepared for the shocked look on Logan's face. Or the way he got up quite so quickly. He looked like he wanted her to leave, oh god, she must have actually really offended him earlier! She was a bad person. He'd come back all this way and the first thing she had done was... was... what *was* that?

Her mind, a step behind as usual, finally began to register the noises from the TV. That, combined with the anxious way he had sidled in front of it, led her to grow suspicious.

Her worried gaze morphed into a frown. "Uh, Logan?" She kept her voice deliberately light. "Why are you guarding the TV?"

"Nothin'," he said quickly... a little *too* quickly if you asked her. He hastily tried to dismiss it with a wave of his hand. "I'm not guardin' anythin'."

"What are you watching?"

"Nature documentary." The panicked look in his eye did not quite diminish.

She spotted the remote control the same time he did. Did she go for it, or was he gonna get there first? It was-

'...Ooooh ja...'

She blinked.

'Ja... das ist gut. Ja härter, tiefer, schneller! Oh mein Gott!'

She raised an eyebrow in a gesture only learnt from him. "Nature documentary?"

Yeah right.

"So those would be German..."

"...bears...?" he tried, hopefully.

'...Uuuh du bist aber ein *Großer*...'

"Interesting." She flicked her glance to the door. "Vocal," she added. "I'll be going now."

She threw the tissue box at him on her way out.

Lunch was an awkward affair. Logan sat sandwiched between Jean and 'Ro, looking the epitome of rough manliness. That was until Rogue walked in and he blushed the colour of beetroot. Even Scott noticed.

Rogue, sporting matching coloured cheeks, looked the other way and went to sit with Jubilee and Kitty instead.

"What's up," Jubes asked, helping herself to more salad. "You look like you've dunked your face in a bucket of red paint."

"Remind me again why you are my friend?" Rogue said, between clenched teeth.

"Because I'm wonderful. Seriously chica. What's wrong?"

"You do look a little hassled," added Kitty.

"I'm not. I'm fine. I've just-" The sentence was doomed never to be finished. At that precise moment Scott chose to vent his dislike for his fiancés sudden interest in Logan.

Rogue watched in shock as the two squared up to each other, her eyes widening as Logan's snarled, "I aint interested in your girl," echoed across the canteen. Then the entire cafeteria watched as he glanced at Rogue before storming out.

Oh god.

All eyes turned to her. Someone dropped a fork and the clanging sound rang sharply out, but no one else moved. Goddamit! Did they have nothing better to do? Rogue swallowed and looked back down at her food, wishing that her mutation involved the ability to become invisible.

"Ahh," said Jubilee, eventually, as other people starting talking amongst themselves again. "I think I understand."

"Understand what?" Rogue was not sure she liked the way this conversation was going.

"You've got the hots for tall dark and feral." She gave a sly smile in Kitty's direction.

"I *what*?"

"It's obvious. You want a bit of Canis lupus."

"A bit of...? I do NOT!" lied Rogue.

"Uh-huh?"

"I don't! We're just friends."

"Yeah right. Girl, look at me." She templed her fingers into a triangle shape. "These are the pyramids," then mimed a rowing boat, "and this is you."

"Oh ha ha," snarked Rogue, snagging a forkful of food.

---

The afternoon didn't go much better either. Deciding to spend most of it hiding safely away, preparing for the evening's celebrations, Rogue got as far as stripping down to her bra and panties before the quiet sound of yelping from Jubilee's room disrupted her turmoil of thoughts.

She smiled to herself... to start with. It sounded like fate was giving Jubes her comeuppance for earlier. Suggesting that she and Logan were...well... it was ridiculous!

But five minutes passed and the yelps only got louder.

Rogue paused, mascara wand mid-way to her lashes. They were not happy yelps. And as far as she was aware, Jubes didn't have a man on the go. On the one hand there was no way she wanted a repeat of this morning's incident, even if it was with one of her closest friends. But on the other hand, Jubes sounded like she was really in trouble.

She sighed. Discarding the mascara until later, she took a peak out in the corridor, judging the distance to Jubilee's door. The hallway was empty, she could make it without anyone catching her in her underwear... if she was quick. Jubes was obviously having some sort of crisis.

Three deep breaths, and she ran, hammering on her friend's door with a squeal, before bursting in with an explosion of relief that she hadn't been caught.

Her relief was short lived. "Oh my god Jubilee, your dress is not supposed to do up like that."

"I KNOW," Jubilee yelled back, straps backwards, zip snagged to her bra, hair caught in-between, in what looked like a complex method of torture rather than a sensible way to get dressed. "It went wrong. Help me out of this would you?"

"Sure sugar." Rogue stepped over, fingers deftly working to undo the knots. But it was not enough.

"Ouch! Quit pulling!"

"I'm trying not to," she said between clenched teeth.

"Yeah but you - Ow!"

Rogue held up her hands and stepped back. "Look, this is obviously not working. We need to cut you out. You got any scissors?"

"Cut me out? I don't want-"

"You want me to pull some more, sugar?"

"We'll use scissors," said Jubilee, a little weakly. "But I don't have any, you'll have to borrow some."

Great. Rogue looked down at her lack of attire. Just what she needed. A naked scissor hunt. Deciding that the sensible course of action would be to first go back to her room and dig out her robe, she sighed to herself and peaked out into the corridor again. Only to come face to face with Scott.

Shit.

"Rogue." He noticed her state of undress and the frown above his glasses deepened. She could sense a lecture coming on. Now was the time to act quickly.

"We need your help Scott." Appeal to his over protective manly side, yeah that was a good idea. Boost his ego a little. "Jubilee's stuck in her dress. We need some scissors to cut her out. Will you help. Please?"

Ha! That killed the lecture.

Scott gave a glance to his watch. "I don't really have time."

Rogue decided to play her trump card. "That's ok, I can always ask Logan."

"You-" He huffed a sigh. "Ok. Stay there. I'll be right back."

'Be right back' actually took almost ten minutes, by which time Jubilee was almost crawling out of her own skin. By the time Scott returned triumphantly bearing cutting implements, she was scowling and cursing like a sailor.

"Stand still," hissed Scott.

"I AM standing still!"

"Sugar, we can't get you out of this if you keep sparking like that."

"I can't help it!" Jubilee said through gritted teeth.

"Would you just...DAMN IT!" cursed Scott, "Now I've gone and snagged my shirt with the scissor blades! He threw the scissors down angrily, before ripping off his shirt with a frustrated sigh to study the damage. "It was new as well," he mourned.

"I'll buy you another one," ground out Jubilee. "Just untangle my hair from this freaking torture suit."

"I would," he yelled back. "If you'd only just stand-"

It happened in slow motion. Jubilee's jostle knocked Scott off balance. He grasped at thin air for a moment, catching hold of Rogue's bra instead, which ripped in a horrific tear of fabric as Rogue, who struggled for footing, reached out for Jubilee. She failed, and they all toppled to the floor. Landing in a heap. With a loud thud.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, "Scott," came Jubilee's weak voice. "I sincerely hope that's your visor."

"I-" But he trailed off as the door was swung open. They all looked up. Logan stood there.

Fuck.

He must have been attracted by the noise.

Rogue could do nothing but watch as his expression went through shock, disbelief, ran into horror, did a brief cameo in anger, then went full circle back to shock again.

She looked down at the tangle of limbs she was among. Was there any point in denying that it was not as it looked? Jubilee's dress was ripped, Scott's shirt was in a crumpled heap by the bed, her bra was in two pieces, Scott's arm being the only thing that covered her decency. The whole thing was a dodgy looking, threesome inspired, tangle of limbs.

Logan blanched, and for a moment he just stared. Then he stepped back out into the hallway and shut the door.

Two seconds later it opened again. He looked as if he was about to say something, opened his mouth, then changed his mind. Door closed.

Oh, this was gonna take some explaining.

Great. She checked off the day's achievements. Not only was she running late, had ruined her best top, had discovered Logan's interest in hardcore German... no, probably best not to go there. But now to top it all off, Logan thought she was in the middle of some sort of steamy threesome with Jubilee and Scott.

Short of leaving the country, there was little she could do to redeem the day. At least it couldn't get any worse... she hoped.

She sighed. First things first. Quash the ménage à trois rumours.

"Logan." She knocked hard on his door. Well there was no way she was barging in again. Not after last time. "Logan!" Fists hammered. "Logan I-"

The door swung open. The scowl was present and he did not look happy. "What kid?"

"I...uh..." Yes, *what* exactly? 'I'm sorry I caught you watching porn but I'm not sleeping with half the team?' Yeah. That'd go down well. 'I was helping Jubes out of her dress when Scott caught me in the middle of a naked scissor run?' Nope, that would just make him think she was on drugs. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"You just come here to stand in my doorway?"

"I...no. Not that it's...y'know... not a nice doorway..." *Fuck* "I just wanted you to know that...that... it wasn't as it seemed. I'm not, y'know, with Jubes... and with Scott," she added a little weakly.

"Looked that way to me, kid," he said, refusing to move an inch.

"It was an accident!"

"Oh. Ok. Well why didn't you just say so before."

Really? Rogue frowned. That had been far too easy, and...oh. He wasn't finished yet.

"You were jus' walkin' around and didn't realise you had no clothes on. Scooter's shirt just fell off... bad stitchin' I expect, and he was only gropin' you because-"

"He was NOT groping me!"

"Really. From where I was standin' it looked an awful lot like-"

"What business is it of yours anyway?!" Rogue yelled back. "It's not like you're interested."

"I'm not!" He yelled back, agreeing.

"So why you getting so worked up?"

"I am NOT!"

"Yes you are, you're shouting."

"I AM NOT...shoutin'."

She gave him a look. "Fine. Well. If you do decide you ARE interested. Then I shall be ready to go to the ball at eight." And with that, she turned on her heal, and walked right past her door in her hurry to get away.

Her thoughts raced with panic as she wondered what on earth had possessed her to say such a thing. Had she just asked him out? Where had that come from? Why was her mouth saying things without her mind's permission?

Oh God.

---

8:00.

He's gonna knock...he's not gonna knock. He's gonna knock, he's not gonna knock. He's gonna...Ohmygod what was that? Were they footsteps? Her heart hammered against her ribcage. They were! And...oh. The footsteps walked past. Not him.

She hoped.

She resumed her pacing.

He's gonna knock, he's not gonna knock. It was 8:05. He's gonna knock, he's not gonna knock. Surely he would've...by now...if he was gonna... But, no. He was always late, never on time. And he *had* got upset earlier about the...but maybe that meant that he *wouldn't* knock because maybe he still thought-

*Knock knock knock*

OHMYFUCKINGGOD. Breathe. Breathe. Y'know, that thing you usually do when air goes in your mouth and back out again. Oh god. Oh crap.

Maybe it wouldn't be him. Now that someone had knocked, she decided that, actually, going by herself was a much better idea. None of that worrying about clashing colours, and awkward conversation, and freshness of breath... Fuck, why was she thinking about that? That would imply she was thinking about kissing! Which was ridiculous. It wasn't like she planned to...or was even-

*Knock knock*

Ok. Deep breath. Swing door open.

There. That wasn't too hard.

God he looked delicious. Who would've guessed the man could pull off a tux. His collar was unbuttoned and his familiar belt buckle was gone, but he... he was staring at her in just the same way she was staring at him.

That felt kinda nice. The look on his face, it made her feel all tingly and warm. She felt her cheeks flame slightly. "Hey," she managed.

"Hey," he said back. Then he leant against the door frame, arms folded. He really did look gorgeous and...ok. Why was he *still* looking at her like that? I mean she knew it was a pretty dress but... She frowned and looked down. Maybe she had it on backwards or something...?

Oh yeah. That would be the tag. Shit.

"I'll just be right back," she squeaked, making a dive for her bathroom.

Ok, dress off. Dress on. Check makeup. Eeak! Was she really blushing that much? Brush hair. Check makeup again. Panic. Had she shaved her legs? Yes... they were good. Thank god. Not that it mattered of course. She wasn't thinking of... y'know...*that*. Oh God. Check hair again. Change earrings. Panic some more. GAAAA what was she still doing in the bathroom? Was he still out there? Had he left? He was very quiet. Ear pressed against the door. Yes, that was definitely a shuffle. He was still there. Ok. Swallow down butterflies in stomach. Reach for door handle. Turn.

He was still waiting for her.

"So," she said, hoping it conveyed all she really wanted to say, which actually ran more along the lines of 'take me now I want to have your babies.'

"So," he replied.

Then they just looked at each other.

She tried again.

"So, you came." ...Oh fuck that hadn't come out like she had meant it either. "I mean you came *here*," she added hastily. "To go to the ball, not the... I mean I wasn't referring to earlier...with the German... I wasn't implying... not that I don't want you be able to..." she swallowed, "because y'know, if you couldn't that would be... weird." Oh god just shut up shut up SHUT UP!

He raised an eyebrow. "You finished?"

She nodded meekly.

He held out a hand. "Then you ready to go?"

"You still want to? After...?"

"Yes."

Yes? He said Yes? As in the affirmative? Was she imagining things again? She resisted the urge to reach out and prod him to see if he was really real, but only because she had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't be impressed. Still... 'yes'... So what if he wasn't a man of many words – he knew the ones that mattered. Woohoo!

"Ok. Just give me..." two or three millennia... "a second," she said, fumbling around for her wrap. She almost jumped ten foot in the air when she felt the touch of his hand against her skin as he helped lay it across her shoulders. Fuck he was being chivalrous as well. There was no way she was gonna survive the night reputation still in tact.

Ok. So there were eyes on them as they descended the stairs. She could cope with that. There were a few jealous glances as well, from both sides, which was rather flattering. Though it probably wasn't a good sign that as soon as they walked through the entrance of what, for one night only, had become the glittering delights of a ball room, both of them made a direct line to the alcohol. But you know, these things were never perfect.

She knocked back her first drink with a flick of her wrist, fingers already fumbling for her second. He was already halfway through a bottle of something that looked like it was probably illegal outside of Europe.

Then they both hovered.

She sneaked a glance at him. Yup. He was still there. Still looking all manly and James Bond in his tux. Only with more hair. Ok so maybe not quite James Bond. More like the love child of James Bond and Elvis. Muttonchops in a tux. Except that, y'know, it wasn't genetically possible and oh god why was she thinking such things? It was not good.

Around them music throbbed and lights flashed. Some people were dancing. Others were chatting. Kitty was covertly eyeing up Bobby. Bobby was flirting outrageously with John. Storm was a serene presence at the edge of the room, a watchful eye over the more boisterous groups of students. Kurt was deep in discussion with the Professor. Hank was bopping away by himself in a corner, glasses clutched in one hand, pina colada in the other. Everyone looked to be having a great time. Everyone but them.

Rogue felt horribly awkward. She could talk to him. She could *always* talk to him. It was *Logan* for chrissakes. Grouchy, snarly, muscles-in-a-wifebeater Logan. So why was it that now he was hers to talk to for the night, she stood dumbly silent beside him? She was constantly aware of his presence, she could almost feel the heat radiating off him, yet she was unable to tear her gaze away from the nail polish on her toes. Which she really should have redone, she realised. It looked chipped and-

"They look like they're havin' fun."

Oh god he spoke. Now she was gonna have to think of something witty and intelligent to say back.

"Yeah..."

...and that could probably go in the hall of fame. Nice one Rogue, your Nobel prize is in the post. What the hell did people say at times like these? Think, girl think! 'You come here often?' Nah – that would be stupid. 'You want another drink?' But he already had one. Argh! Say something...anything! Something that didn't involve 'Excuse me. I don't mean to sound forward, but do you mind if I rub up against you and get myself off?' Because she had the feeling he might just say... Oh god it was really *not* the time to go there. Coherent thought. Coherent..."You wanna dance?"

"Uhh..." Actually, he looked like he would rather chew off his own leg. "Well it's-"

"Don't worry." Oh god. Back paddle back paddle! Slug drink. "It was a stupid suggestion." More drink. "Really."

And now he was looking even more awkward, if that was at all possible. Time to bail! "Maybe I ought to go. Leave you to chat with..." Who? The wall? Everyone else was making a concentrated effort to avoid them... no doubt orchestrated by Jubes who kept giving very un-subtle thumbs up gestures every time Rogue caught her eye. Even Jean and Scott were nowhere to be seen, although that was probably more to do with the fact that Scott was still trying to explain the threesome from earlier. More drink. *Lots* more drink.

"What you thinkin' about kid?"

Now would be a good time to lie, her brain told her. Unfortunately her mouth decided not to listen. "Threesomes." Seriously. What was *wrong* with her?

Logan stiffened. "Is that why the yeller spark plug over there keeps winkin' at you?"

"She... No!" He didn't still think that...? Crap. Crap crap crap. How did she get herself into these things? Oh god he was still looking uncomfortable, an explanation was needed. "She's just happy that you and I..." she hesitated. You and I *what* exactly? Now was not the time for declarations of love. "That we... uhh..."

"We what?"

"We...Oh look, another drink!" She grabbed it and downed it all in one go. Trying to ignore the more than slightly woozy feeling it gave her. "I'm going to go and talk to...to...Kitty over there." She pointed, turned, and sped... possibly stumbled, away.

What the hell was she doing? He had been standing right next to her, looking all hot and y'know...manly, and she was running away? Was she crazy? Was she-

"Marie."

Oh that would be his hand on her shoulder. Oh god. "Yes?" she squeaked.

"Changed my mind. Let's dance."

Dance? What, as in coherent patterns of movement that required coordination? Eeep! She needed a body double or something. She tried protesting. "I didn't really mean it, before when I suggested..."

But he was already leading her on to the floor.

And the room was spinning. Or was that her? She didn't really think she was up to dancing...but...oh. Maybe. Maybe if he was gonna wrap his strong arms around her like that. Yes. That would help. He was so warm. So solid. Smelt so damn good.

"This ok?"

Hell yeah! Wooohoo! She tried to resist the urge to do something completely inappropriate like stick out her tongue and lick his neck.

"Marie?"

"Uhh, yeah. Yes it's fine." It'll be a hardship, but I'll cope.

Then the music slowed and she pressed a little closer, feeling the length of his body against hers. Yes, she could do dancing. Moving her hips in time with his. God that felt good. Especially when his arms shifted slightly, hands sliding lower than could be considered platonic. Wow, she could really get into this. She snuggled her face against his chest, moving so that she was flush against him and... oh.

Was that...?

He shifted slightly. Wouldn't catch her eye.

"Logan?" But she didn't move away. He didn't let her either. Probably seeing as she was the only thing between him and a room full of eager eyed perverts.

"Are those your...uhh...claws sugar, or are you just happy to see me?"

"Well you are wriggling up against me. What did you expect darlin'," he breathed into her ear.

What did she expect? She expected to wake up any minute. She expected him to say, 'yeah Jean, I've wanted you since long before my eyesight got bad'. She expected him to rip off his Logan mask to reveal that he was Tom Cruise before confirming he would self destruct in thirty seconds. She expected -

"And if you keep on movin' like that darlin', I aint gonna play nice."

*Meep*

Did he just say what she thought he said? Did he just...?

She moved against him again, just to make sure, and he let out a soft growl. The one that did nice things to her insides. Made them go all fluttery. She had to resist the urge to melt in his arms as all sense and reason flooded south.

"M'rie?"

"Mmmm?"

"You wanna get outta here?"

So her hand was gripped in his hand. No, make that her hand was gripped in his hand and she was being tugged along. And it was a nice hand. Strong. And the tugging was fast.

Dear god, this had to be a dream. Seriously, there was no other explanation. She'd passed out, she was hallucinating...and now the thumb was rubbing slow circles with the tugging...

Fuck, if this was a dream then let it be a coma.

Had anyone noticed the way they'd left quite so quickly? Probably. Did she care? Hell no. Out the ballroom door. Past the people. A quick smirk at Jean's look of shock. Into the entrance hall. Up the stairs. Stopping at the top of the stairs, why was he stopping, what was with the stopping? Stopping was bad!

Oh, the look. He was giving her the look. That dark eyed predator, I'm-going-to-eat-you-alive look. Christ. They ought to bottle that and use it as an aphrodisiac.

"M'rie." That was growled. Then FUCK she was being pushed against the wall with a whole lotta Wolverine pressed up against her. Ok. Changed her mind. Stopping was good. Very good. Although... talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place...*snigger* ok now was not the time to laugh. Now was the time to- oh god he was going to kiss her.

Her heart stopped. Which was quite impressive seeing as her pulse was still thudding through her ears. He was so close.

His pressed his forehead against hers. She felt his shoulders rise and fall as he inhaled slowly... then exhaled. Then the entire of her being suddenly focused on her lips as...as...ohmygod. His mouth came down on hers, hot and dark and hands tangling in her hair, stubble scratching at her chin as his tongue...did...stuff...oh fuck coherent description this was wow!

Like seriously WOW.

Like knees weak, pulse racing, stomach flipping wow.

And then some.

When he pulled away the dark-eyed hungry look was still there. And there was something she had to remember. Something she was supposed to do to remain conscious. Oh yeah, that was it. Breathe. Fuck he tasted good.

His lips nibbled round to her ear, and she felt his heat of his breath before he whispered, "the things I wanna do to you darlin'..."

*Jesus*.

This time she did the tugging. A giddy mind-spin of jittery feelings leaping about in her stomach all the way to his room, which was two whole freaking steps closer than hers. And that made a big difference.

He backed her up against the door, his hands everywhere, as hers fumbled beside her for the handle. Fuck, where was it? It was so hard to concentrate when he was... he was...mmmmm – Eeeap! It gave and she all but fell in backwards.

Shit. But... but......A brief stumble, and...wooohoo! She was still upright. She looked up at him from under her lashes with a smirk, as if daring him to laugh at her. But there was no laughing to be done. He was stood there, watching her, hands resting on either side of the door frame, shirt seriously ruffled, hair all mussed up from where she'd raked her nails through it, eyebrow cocked... but still with the look.

Christ.

She reached out, grabbed the lapels of his tux and hauled him in.

Door kicked shut. Heat raging. Fistfuls of hair. Mouth on...fuck...everything. Hands sliding under...oh Jesus she was actually going to die.

"Oompf Logan," she managed - just. "I don't...sleep with people...on the first...date."

"Who said..." more kissing, "...anything about sleepin'?"

Good point. Besides, she'd already ripped off his tux and it would be rude to ask him to put it back on again. And shirt buttons, they were a right pain to do up once they'd been undone... Damn, but he had a fine chest, and strong arms, and fingers that were wondering down to- HOLY FUCK! That felt good. To hell with being respectable! "Let me help you with that," she said into his shoulder, hurriedly pulling off the rest of her dress.

And then he was backing her up, feral eyes fixed upon her, dark with lust. One step, two, till her knees hit the bed and suddenly she was no longer quite so vertical. Mmmm and neither was he.

"Mmphf, you know we should really probably still be downstairs," she said, kicking off her shoes.

"Yeah?" He groaned as she arched up against him. Breathing hard. "But then we'd probably get a right tellin' off for indecent exposure."

She laughed into his mouth, "that's not what I meant."

"Oh really? 'Cause the way you were dancin' darlin'..."

She shut him up with another kiss, body trying to wrap itself all around him at once. Fingers fumbling with buttons and sleeves and GODDAMN who the FUCK invented cufflinks?! She would hunt them down, by god she would, and she'd... oh thank-frikin-god. He ripped them off and his shirt joined her dress in a crumpled heap on the floor. That was better.

Then it was all a tangle of legs, of mouths tasting, bodies frantically rubbing against each other, hands exploring...until...until... was he starting to pull back?

"Wait darlin'."

Her heart sank.

"Logan?" she frowned. She hadn't meant it about going downstairs thing. Had she done something wrong? Were there like, instructions she should have read? A 'how to operate the Wolverine' manual? FUCK maybe she *hadn't* shaved her legs-

"We need some sort of..." he fumbled around in his nightstand, cracking his head on the lamp in the dark. "Fuck."

"What?!" Panicpanicpanic.

"Y'know, protection."

Oh. Sigh of almost relief. "Protection?"

"Well I've jus' come back home haven't I. Haven't stocked up yet."

Hadn't stocked up? Was he implying what she thought he was implying? She didn't like the implications of that. Luckily she was one of the X-men. And X-men always had a backup plan. "Logan?"

"Fuck."

"...Logan?"

"Dammit!" He growled and threw something at the wall.

"I have some in my room."

"You...?" That stopped him. For a moment, his face lit up, then it darkened with a frown. "What are you doin' with those kid?"

What? No, seriously. WHAT?!

"First off, Logan, you do not get to call me kid when my clothes are over there in a pile with yours and your hand is down my panties. Second, I'm old enough to do what the hell I want with them. I can goddamn blow them up and make them into balloon animals if I so choose. And third? I get to-"

He dipped his head and kissed again, completely disturbing her train of thought, mid-rant. The bastard.

"Third, I..." The hand down her panties began to trace wonderful patterns. That really was not fair.

"Third?" he prompted, tongue doing things it really shouldn't. Things it should never goddamn stop. Ever. EVER. Fuck, he was good at this.

"I'll think of the third in the morning," she mumbled into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him as he scooped her up.

Two strides and he was swinging open the door. Another, and he was out in the corridor. One more and... damn. They were directly in the path of an oncoming, still bopping, Hank.

"Oops," Logan whispered into her ear, and then nibbled it for good measure.

The doctor hadn't noticed them yet, he was humming away, lost in his own little chipper world, there might still be time to sneak away... But Logan was struggling to open her door whilst holding her up, and both of Rogue's hands were occupied with Logan's fine chest...or possibly lower...well a girl had to have her priorities. She giggled as Hank got closer...

"You're my reality, yet I'm lost in a-a-a-a dream," Hank sang happily to himself as he approached. "You're the *first* mmmhmm, the laaast... myyy every-" He stopped mid-syllable. Blinked. "Logan? Rogue?" he said, not quite able to hide the look of total shock. "Now this is odd."

"Evenin' doc," said Logan, hoisting her to sit more comfortably in his arms.

Ok, so this was embarrassing. Rogue blushed slightly, trying to stem the urge of hysterics that welled up with in her. Thank god they hadn't got as far as the taking off underwear stage. She'd never explain that.

"Why are you carrying her? Good god, is she alright? What happened? Does she need a doctor?"

"She's fine," Logan growled. Mmmm, it made his chest rumble against her and everything.

"Really? Well where are her clothes? Because she doesn't look-"

"Honestly Hank, I'm good." Rogue gave him her best reassuring smile. But he wasn't looking convinced. Maybe a small white lie was called for. "I just fainted, that's all."

"You...? Oh!" he said, with what he thought was sudden understanding. Poor Hank. "I see. Too much drink I expect, hmm?!" He waggled his brows in amusement. "Well, in that case I'm sure it was a relief to you that the Wolverine was near at hand to help."

She smiled at that. "Yep." Then couldn't resist adding, "He gave me mouth to mouth."

"He gave you...?" Hank scratched his head, puzzled. "You know, Logan, that's not really necessary. If someone faints then they-"

"Just wanted to be sure." Logan gave her a wicked smirk. One that did dizzying things to her insides. "And now I'm gonna give her hip to hip as well. See ya doc." And with that, he stepped inside her room and shut the door firmly behind them.

Rouge grinned at him, suddenly almost shy again as Hank's incoherent mutterings faded away down the corridor, leaving them once again in quietness.

"So," Logan said after he'd let her slide down the length of his body to the floor, then kissed her for good measure.

"So," she repeated back at him, fingers lightly travelling over the iron hard muscles of his arms, back, stomach, thighs, shoulders...Jesus the man was a GOD.

"You ready for this?"

Was that a trick question? In, what she later referred to as a perfectly reasonable response, she tackled him, pushing him back, knocking him off his feet and landing on top of him on the bed.

He flipped her over so that she was suddenly pinned beneath him and growled, "I'll take that as a yes then."

Hell yeah. She'd agree with that!

And she continued to agree as her underwear joined the remainder of his clothes on her floor.

By the time the second fumble in the nightstand was navigated and her legs were gripped around his waist, she was agreeing with him profusely.

And by the time that he was growling into her hair and her fingers clenched up fistfuls of the sheets, she could do nothing *but* agree.

Which she continued to do.

Many times throughout the night.

And most of the next morning...(including, much to Scott's lament later in the day, at least twice rather loudly in the shower).

And throughout the subsequent weeks.

-Not to mention the months.

Years.

...You get the picture.

*Author grins and exits story*


(...And Logan and Rogue continue regardless...)