I've got a little time to myself before I have to teach class, so I've decided to go running.  I always gravitate to the woods, where it's nothing but the sounds of the forest and the soft thump of my footsteps.  Heading down the wide shaded path, I hear a chipmunk chirp and scamper up a tree; the hollow knocking sound of a woodpecker resonates above, which I find oddly comforting.  It's nice to have the time alone, away from conversation and obligations.  This is one place where I can just...be.

I make my way at a nice even pace, following the trail for about a mile and a half.  Then I slow down and turn off the path, cutting through woods and brush.  There's no more smooth, manicured trail now.  Just a few familiar markers made by nature.  A small dogwood tree on the right.  Moss covered log.  Sassafrass tree further down on the left.  A massive oak with three gouges in the bark, from the time Logan and I had that big argument.

Just a few steps further, and I reach a small clearing, revealing my favorite spot.  The bubbling sounds of the brook are soft and welcoming, the cool air lifting off of the rushing water smelling so good, I breathe deeply before letting out a sigh.

I take off my shoes and socks, and gently step my bare feet onto the small rocks, dipping my toes into the edge of the water.  Little minnows dart about at first, then tentatively make their way back to surround my toes, and I smile.  I used to come here all the time before I was able to control my mutation; on hot summer days, I'd take off the gloves, the scarf, all those damn layers that kept me from hurting others and myself, and I'd feel free.  Logan showed me this place.

We've spent many an afternoon or evening here, skipping rocks and talking about everything and nothing.  Sometimes we come here together, and other times we come here alone for some solitude.  Today I'm here for...comfort?  Familiarity?  I suppose, but I don't think it's really either of those things that I'm after.  

I close my eyes and sigh, soak in the sunlight peaking through a break in the treetops.

 

"Hey, darlin'."

I gasp and my eyes fly open as I spin around.  "Logan!  Jeez, I told you not to sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry," he says with a mischievous grin.  "I'll try to sound like you tramping through the woods next time."  Smug bastard.  As big as he is, Logan can move through the forest without making a single sound--not twig snap, a leaf rustle, nothing.

I turn and begin walking a little further into the water, slowly feeling my way over the rocks.  "So what's up, buttercup?" I say with lightness that I don't really feel.  "Needed to get away from the mansion for a while?"

I hear the thud of a heavy boot dropping to the ground, and then another.  The swish of socks coming off, and then soft footsteps approaching.  Logan steps through the scattering minnows and slowly makes his way next to me.

"I dunno.  Just felt like I wanted to be here, I guess."  He tucks his hands loosely in his pockets and looks out over the water.

"Yeah, me too."

We stand there in silence for a while, lost in our own thoughts.

Logan is the one person I can do this with.  We can just be in each other's presence, for hours sometimes, without feeling the need to say anything.

Today something is different, though.  I feel like there is something hanging in the air between us.  He doesn't seem to be ready to say what's on his mind, though, so we continue stand next to each other, saying nothing.

I survey our surroundings, observing the low hanging branches skimming the water's edge, the crayfish scooting between rocks.  My eyes come to rest on three claw marks scarring the massive oak.

"Remember that time we had that huge fight, and you slashed that big old oak tree?" I muse.

"Yeah.  You had me pissed off real good," he says without humor.  We start heading toward the dry ground and settle down on a fallen log.  "You never should have gone in there without calling for backup first."

"I know."  I pick a weed flower and twirl it between my fingers.  "But everything worked out ok, didn't it?"

He looks at me sharply.  "You almost got yourself killed."

"But I didn't.  And it was worth the risk in the end."

"It was stupid and thoughtless.  Nothing is worth you risking your life for," he says heatedly.

"It was worth it to me!"  I say, my voice starting to rise.

"Dammit, Marie!"  His eyes blaze hotly as he struggles to control his anger.  I stand up, about to go head to head with him again, over something that really should be old news.  How did we just flash fire from zero to angry in 5 seconds flat?  What are we fighting about?

"God, Logan!  You're starting to sound like my father," I spit, knowing that it's a cheap shot.  I don't care right at this very moment, though.  To hell with it; I'm in a mood to push some boundaries.  "Newsflash--you're not my father, and you're not my big brother, either."

He stands up, too, jaw clenched, and I'm just waiting for it, because I know how pissed off he was the last time we fought about this.

Instead, we stand there looking at each other for a few moments.  And then his eyes soften.

"You're right.  I'm not your father, or your brother.  But I do care for you," he says tenderly.

I wasn't expecting him to say that.  He takes a step closer, so close that I can feel the heat radiating off of his body.  He smells so good...

He starts to say something, then stops.  I can see the conflict in his face, as if he is trying to tell me something, but doesn't quite know how to say it.

"You just don't understand how important you are to m-- to the team," he corrects himself and looks away.

Did he--almost make a slip just now?  A tiny spark of hope rises up in my chest.  But it's soon squashed.

"You've got a good thing going right now," he says, looking at me intently again.  "You're a teacher, educating young mutants, in a school that has become your home.  And you're a pilot now.  Those are both really good things, Marie.  You're needed here.  Sometimes, when you've got a really good thing...you hold on to that."  He gently cups the side of my face with his hand.  "You don't go jeopardizing it all for something that...that could end badly."  His thumb gently caresses my lower lip, and my insides turn to jelly, just from this one little touch.  My lips part involuntarily and I suck in a small breath.  His eyes dart down to my mouth, and if I didn't know any better, I'd swear he wants to kiss me.

I stare at him for a moment, gathering my thoughts to formulate a counter argument, but realization hits me.  Somehow I get the feeling that my safety and my career with the X-men are not the only things he's referring to.

Logan and I have always been straight with each other, about everything, except this.  Us.  This undefined, more-than-friends but not-quite-lovers thing we have going on.

He's not exactly the kind of guy who talks about his feelings easily.  Logan would say that he's not good with words.  Or if he were in a facetious mood, he would say that he's a man of action, not words.  But he's not joking or being playful right now, and I wonder.  If his actions speak louder than words, what has he been trying to say to me by sending me those intense, burning looks one minute, and then pulling back and keeping his distance the next?

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.  "You're my friend, Marie."

Oh.  Great.  I'm being taken by hand and placed back in the friend zone, like always.

He exhales gently and says in a quiet voice, "You're my best friend.  I know you want more, and maybe I'm being selfish, but I don't...I can't...I can't risk losing you.  I can't lose...this.  Do you understand?"

His eyes search mine, willing me to understand. 

Oh.  Oh.

For a moment I'm stunned into silence. 

Is he saying what I think he's saying?  I'm struck with feeling an odd mixture of giddyness, affirmation, and disappointment.  If he doesn't want to lose this, that means he has thought of us as something more than this.  Yes!  I knew it!

On the other hand, he's not willing to risk the possibility of things "ending badly".  What does he mean by that exactly?  I remember how he once said that he never allowed any of his, ahem, 'lady friends' stay over because he still has nightmares.  Is he afraid that he'll hurt me?  So we had a minor stabbing incident that one time years ago, and so it was a tiny bit traumatic.  He can heal me, right?

Wait, is he afraid I'll hurt him?  Is he afraid of my skin?  No...he never shied away from touching me, even before I learned to control it.

So then, maybe he's afraid that I'll hurt him, you know, like emotionally.  Maybe he thinks that if he lets himself truly fall for me, that I'll betray him in some way, or that I'll break his heart.  I would never!  Would I?  No.  God, no!  And I think after all these years, he knows me well enough to know that I would never do that, not on purpose.  At least I hope he knows that.

Maybe he doesn't think he's going to want to stick around after a while.  Maybe he wants to come and go as he pleases, like always, and he doesn't want to be tied down to me or anyone.  That's a sobering thought.  What if he knows that he'll never be happy with just one woman, and he's trying to spare me from the inevitable heartache?  The thought of him with another woman is already feeling like a kick in the gut, and he's not even mine yet.  I don't think I could be around him after that.

And maybe that's the gist of it.  I would never intentionally hurt him, and he would never intentionally hurt me.  But sometimes things just don't work out between people.  That could happen to us, and then where would we be?  I'd like to think that we would always love each other as best friends, but maybe it would just hurt too much.  Maybe, despite our best intentions, an invisible wedge would be driven between us, and our friendship wouldn't survive.

Can I even think about risking the loss of my best friend?  I would miss him so much.  I would miss the day to day banter and silliness as much as I would ache at the loss of the deep abiding bond between us.  Wouldn't it be better to have him in my life as a friend than not have him in my life at all?

But oh, God--when I think about what we could be together if we decided to take that chance!   And I don't just mean the heat that is so obviously between us.  I love this man so much...and I know he loves me, too.  Taking the next step would just be the most natural thing in the world, if we let it be that way.  Why should we deny ourselves the one thing that could make us truly happy?  To crush the potential of something so beautiful before it even has a chance to blossom seems...wrong!

I want to be angry with him.  I want to shout that he's wrong.  I want to tell him that some things are worth the risk.  But I do none of those things.  Instead I look into his beautiful hazel eyes and see... longing.  Resignation.  A plea for understanding.

This is the closest that Logan has ever come to openly talking about us.  No playful banter, no bravado or flirtatious joking to skirt around the subject or distance himself.  Just naked sincerity, from the man who bears his soul to no one.

It's killing me; knowing what we are to each other, and now...knowing that he is not willing to be more.  But it kills me more to see this raw, open vulnerability from him.  When he looks at me that way, I know that I would do anything, anything for him.

He has always been there for me.  Saved my life, in more ways than one.  Surely I can do this one thing for him.  

I love him.  How can I not be the friend that he needs me to be?

I take his hand in mine.  "I understand, Logan," I say, surprised at the steadiness in my voice.  He looks at me, unsure.  I scrape together my conviction, and try to sound more confident.  "I understand now, Logan, I really do.  You're right; the risk isn't worth it.  You won't lose me...  You're my best friend, too; and I'll always be there for you.  I promise."

His eyes continue to search my face, still uncertain.  I give his hand a reassuring squeeze and plant a chaste kiss on his scruffy cheek.  He looks relieved, but also--sad?  Just then my alarm goes off, and I realize it's time to get back to teach class.

"Oh!  I gotta get going.  Creative Writing class."

"Sounds titillating," he says with a smirk.

"Oh, you have no idea how titillating I can be, mister," I reply with a devilish grin.

He grins as well, happy to fall back into our usual routine of lighthearted flirtiness and witty innuendos.  "Hmm, maybe I should take your class myself.  Would you teach me a lesson, Miss Rogue?"

"I'd teach you somethin' alright," I shoot back.  "But I have to warn you, I'm very strict.  One toe out of line, young man, and I may slap you with my ruler."

"Ooo, that sounds painful.  Too bad I might enjoy it."

"Pervert!"  I laugh and slap him lightly on the arm.  "Walk me back?"

"Sure thing, darlin'."

We slip on our socks and shoes and start heading back to the trail.

"So, do you have something to wear for the ball?" I ask eventually.

"Yeah, Jubilee actually picked something up for me," he replies with side glance, cracking a smile.

"Jubilee did that for you?"  I don't know why I'm surprised.  Jubes may have her gum-cracking, superficial persona down pat, but in reality she has a heart of gold.  She sticks her nose in everyone's business, but also makes it her business to take care of everyone.

"Yeah.  Looks pretty good, too.  I might need some help with the tie, though."

"I'll stop over and fix that up for you," I offer.  "And I promise, I won't touch your hair."

"That's good," he says, and then gives me a look that I recognize.  Oh shit.  "Too bad I can't make the same promise!" he yells, wrapping his arm around my neck before I can get away and giving me a noogie.

"Ahh!  Haha!  You jackass!"  I squeal and elbow him in the ribs.  I wrestle free and he tries to dodge me as I reach for his neck in turn.  He starts taking off down the trail, but not quickly enough; I'm fast and light, and I've got my running shoes on.  I manage to leap onto his back, wrapping my arm around his neck and reaching for his head with my free hand.  He sees it coming and grabs my hand, then the other, pinning both down on his chest so that I can't move either one.

"Hey, no fair!" I laugh, and he laughs, too.

"I never said that I played fair, darlin'."

"Fine," I say, wrapping my legs around his waist.  "Then you're carrying me the rest of the way back!"

He sighs in fake resignment.  "Well, I guess I really am a jackass." 

"Yah, mule!" I call out triumphantly.

He glances over his shoulder with a smile before trotting down the path with me on his back.

And just like that, we're back to being best buds again.

 

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