Author's Chapter Notes:
Come take my APC and tool cds away? I meant to work on that chapter for "How much.." But I got distracted this weekend. Oops. Not much of a smut writer, but here goes.
It was his own fault he couldn't sleep. It didn't matter which way he sprawled his body on the mattress, or twisted the sheets, kicked them aside, punched or pummelled his pillow. Sleep was taunting him, standing silently in the corner like a woman in a long gray dress. Tempting with a look, silent laughter, just out of reach.


His own fault, he should have known better. Never should have given Marie the room down the hall from his own, in the oldest part left of the mansion, where the doors had to be locked to secure them in their jambs. Never should have given her a room next to his, with the walls like rice paper with how little sound they muffled and kept to the respective spaces. A room so close he could scent her after a shower, her soap and lotion filling the air outside her door with her scent. He'd been the one to insist on her place, once she took the cure. Had fought for her place, for her to stay, thought keeping her close to him would keep her safe. He could protect her, if she was right there.

Now he questioned the sanity of that decision.


The cure had failed her, and it had broken her heart and spirit in ways that splitting up with Bobby had never come close. It had hurt to watch her, the bleak sorrow in dark eyes, watching the world go by her, as she plucked at her gloves.

He dealt with it the only way he knew how. She was his assigned partner for every mission, his assistant for all his physical training classes, his drinking buddy and teammate for pool games down at the bar on weekends. He kept her as busy, as close, as he could, to try and erase the hint of despair that seemed etched in the back of espresso dark irises. Sometimes he felt as though he'd succeeded, other times he'd catch a glimpse of her at night, on her way to bed, and the inner grief that all but vibrated from her would make him silently pray to the god Kurt always talked about, hoping. Praying, pleading with a power he wasn't sure he believed in, for something, anything, that would bring some of the joy that used to inhabit Marie back.

There had been days in the last few weeks, he'd catch her looking at him with a bit of a smirk, a smile that almost wasn't. Hear her humming in the mornings before they went down to breakfast, singing at night to herself before she went to sleep. Some of the lightness seemed back in her step, her smile a more frequent visitor, her laughter ringing true to his ears again. Refusing to listen to Storm's idea that Rogue had adjusted to being Rogue again, he kept praying, to the point he had a candle in his room he lit every night, for a few minutes. Listening to her move in her room, and just watching the flame. Prayer from the heart, perhaps not the perfect words, but from the most powerful source.

He had missed a night or two, busy with some of the dirtier work in the city that was better left to him, under the cover of dark, than the others. A long hot shower in the locker room to wash off the beer and the blood, report left in his scrawl on Storm's desk. Fresh pair of beer bottles in hand, still unlit cigar in the corner of his mouth, as he approached the short hallway to his room. A few fragmented thoughts of watching a movie to relax, had him straying away from his door towards Marie's.

What caught his eye first was the fraction of an inch the door was open, emitting fitful, flickering light into the blue black of the darkened hallway. Candlelight, music from her stereo, scent of incense that first teased his nose. Fooling his senses for a moment, before he got past the scent of sandalwood, to scent of Marie. Sweat, excitement, arousal, and joy hitting him hard enough to almost rock him back bodily.

Before he could move away, clear his nose, the next assault on his senses began. A low, throaty moan that sounded suspiciously like his name, rustle of moving bedcovers, rock of bedsprings. He knew from scent, there was no one in there with her. Shaking his head, meaning to move away as much as he could feel his body reacting. Body tensing, blood quickening as he started to get hard inside those too snug jeans. Running his tongue along his lips, as if he could taste her on the air, like the big bad wolf.

Still, he would have stepped back, tried to protect her privacy, give her space, until as he turned his head towards his room, a flash caught his eye. Pressing his face to that crack in the door. A mirror. A mirror that reflected to him the perfect view of his Marie, framed by candlelight and hints of shadow.

Pale magnolia skin, unmarked, covering every inch of that toned body that he knew was as strong as could be. Toes curling, peek of the dark red polish on their surface, as her heel dug against the mattress seeking purchase. Flex of her calf muscle, spreading of her thighs. Forcing his eyes to look away, dark wood grain of the door, before he looked back.

Starting at her head this time, pooled waves of chocolate and purest cream, strands caught on flushed cheeks. Watching her bit her lip on a moan, chin tilting up. Shoulders rounded, left hand cupping a breast he had felt pressed against him in all sorts of situtations, a plump swell of flesh he'd been wanting to explore and taste for weeks, months even. Seeing her pinch at the pink peak capping it only made him growl quietly in his throat, glass groaning in his hand as his grip on bottle necks tightened. Afraid the clink of glass would startle her, ready to flee. But she never wavered.

Right hand would slide up her flat belly, stroking skin that could drop a man to his knees in more ways than one, before fingers would creep back down, sliding along pale brown curls, teasing slick pink flesh and making her scent only stronger along the air. Making him crave to touch her, be the one to make her back arch that way, hips grinding as she moaned aloud, body quivering. Watching her repeat the process, her voice slowly getting louder with each release, until she was panting, the last all but a scream... a scream of a name. His.

He should have left, run down the hall to the kitchen, given the danger room another test.. should have kicked her door open and tasted her sweat and pleasure on her skin. Should have..

Instead, he ran off to his room, heart pounding, aching in his jeans. Beer was cast into the sink to sweat, white tank top stripped off and thrown to the floor. No candles, no music or atmosphere. He didn't need them, all he needed was that vision of her.

Zipper tugged down, restrictive, stiff denim shucked off his hips, freeing him. Freeing that aching length to be gripped in his own hand, while he wished so desperately for hers. That soft touch, the tease of fingers, honey dripping drawl of her words calling his name as she set him free to let go. Stroking while keeping the vision of her in his head, forehead pressed against the cold tile wall of his bathroom. Tugging himself to the rhythm in his head, thinking of her face, the look of release, of surrender. Hand not used to seek pleasure was pressed against the wall, fingers digging against the surface as if to sink into it. Breathing harsh and ragged, blood roaring in his ears as he focused. Focused only on the feeling inside of him, and dreaming of Marie.

He never heard the whisper of bare feet, the brush of long hair against bare skin until there was a press of warm lips against the back of his shoulder. Teeth biting against his flesh, making him arch his neck, head back with a groan. Scent he knew so well, the very scent that had sent him to this hellish place of needing something he couldn't have, a junkie that could never get a fix.

Heated fingers slid against the back of his hand, prying his hand away from the throb he was still trying to satisfy, making him whimper. Taking over, stroking with skin as soft as satin, as more kisses were pressed along his back.

"Shh... " Sound he knew so well, his mind spun into chaos. Both hands against the wall now, pressing his cheek to the coolness of tile. " Jus' let go, Logan."

Just the sound of her voice, a few small touches of her hand, and he was plunged into fire. Muscles tensing until they burned as that climax ripped through him with the force of a physical blow, adding the saltier scent of him to the softer scent of Marie. Panting, clinging to the wall as if the adamantium coating his bones had melted, taking his will to stand with it.

"M-marie?" Breathed out, trying to rationalize why he wasn't dead, dying, or even sapped of his energy beyond what that orgasm had taken from him in its shattering peak. A stroke of her hand down his back, kiss at the line of his spine.

"If Ah had known ya wanted a show.. Ah woulda left the door open wider. Woulda done it days ago, instead of waitin' ta make sure mah control was perfect. " Murmured against his shoulder. "Same time tomorra night? Jus' don't run away next time. Come in."

Then she was gone, long strides taking her back to her room before he could summon the will to move. Sweet lord. Who had he been praying to, that would answer his prayer for Marie, and his own beside?

But more pressing.. how was he going to manage to wait all the way until tomorrow night?




Thinking of you - A perfect Circle

Lying all alone and restless
unable to lose this image
sleepless, unable to focus on
anything but your surrender

Tugging a rhythm to the vision that's in my head
Tugging a beat to the sight of you lying
So delighted with a new understanding
Something about a little evil that makes that
Unmistakable noise I was hearing
Unmistakable sound that I know so well
Spent and sighing with a look in your eye
Spent and sweating with a look on your face like

Sweet revelation sweet surrender
sweet, sweet surrender
Surrender...

Tugging a rhythm to the vision that's in my head
Tugging a beat to the sight of you lying
So delighted with a new understanding
Something about a little evil that makes that
Unmistakable noise I was hearing
Unmistakable sound that I know so well
Spent and sighing with a look in your eye
Spent and sweating with a look on your face like

Sweet revelation sweet surrendering
Sweet revelation sweet

Thinking of you, thinking
Thinking of you, Thinking of you, Thinking of you, thinking...

Sweet revelation sweet surrendering
Sweet revelation
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