5 Years Later

I'm a tigress on the hunt.  I make no sound as I prowl my territory, every movement of my body lithe and graceful, my feet padding the ground softly so as to not alert my prey.  Scanning the area for signs of a trail or hiding place, I use all my senses to track its movements, but this creature is good.  It has senses of its own, better than mine.  The creature has eluded me many times before, ending my hunts in frustration; but this time, I am determined.  You see, I know the creature's weakness.  I didn't want to resort to baiting, preferring to make it a fair hunt.  But desperate times call for desperate measures.

I reach into the bag, making sure it crackles enticingly as I remove its contents.  Though the creature may be hidden so well that it can not see the bag, I know it can hear everything. Smell everything.  That crackling bag is a siren song that the creature can not resist.

I place the tasty morsel of food in an area that I know the creature likes to forage.  Then I crouch down, hidden from view, and wait.

At first, nothing happens.  There is nothing but silence, and the very air around us seems to still with anticipation.  Patience.  Patience...

There.  I see two eyes, peeking from its dark hiding place, peering suspiciously in every direction.  It doesn't want to come out; it suspects that someone is waiting for it, ready to pounce.  Good instincts, I note with some satisfaction.  But try as it might, the creature can not resist the bait.  Slowly, tentatively, it creeps out from its hiding place, scanning the area for a predator.  Patience...The creature moves silently, making not a sound as it approaches the bait; but being silent won't help the creature now.  I've got it in my sights, and there is no escape this time.

Finally, the moment I have been breathlessly waiting for.  The creature gingerly picks up the bait.  Sniffs it.  Then stuffs the bait into its mouth with a satisfied smile.

"Gotcha!" I roar, springing forward and trapping the creature with my arms and holding its thrashing form to my body.

"Mama!" He protests, wriggling and squirming, still holding on to the chocolate chip cookie with two hands.  "Let me go!"

"No can do, Charles.  You know it's time for your hair cut," I reply, carrying him into the bathroom and setting him on the counter, where my comb and scissors are laying ready on a towel.

"But I don't wanna hair cut," he says with a scowl, his beautiful hazel eyes ablaze.  I brush a long spike of his dark, unruly hair with my fingers.  So like his father, I think with a smile.

"I know you don't, but do it for me, 'kay?" I say with a sweet smile.  He looks at me dubiously, as if to say that it's going to take a lot more than the desire to grant me a personal favor in order to allow me to touch his hair.  And if I didn't know any better, I'd say that he's already learning to cock one eyebrow, just like his daddy.  "Alright," I sigh. "Will you do it for another cookie?"

I'm rewarded with a big cookie-crumbed smile.  "Yeah!" he hoots in triumph.

"Kid, you're givin' in too easy.  Next time hold out for more cookies," I hear a gruff voice say from behind me.

"Logan!" I spin around, and isn't that just a tall, cool drink of water standing there in my doorway.  Rushing over to greet him, I can't stop myself from throwing my arms around his neck and kicking up my heels, planting a huge kiss on his sexy lips.

"Hey, babe," he murmurs in between our fervent kisses and nips.  "I missed you."  He sets me down and takes my face into his hands, gazing into my eyes as though we haven't seen each other in weeks.  It's only been a few days, but that doesn't lessen our hunger for each other when we are reunited.

Logan bends down to kiss me, softly, deeply, and it's so, so good, I find myself completely lost, getting weak in the knees.  I'm only vaguely aware of the thump behind me, followed by the pitter-patter of little footsteps.  Somewhere in my fuzzed brain, I realize what that sound was.

"Charles!" I say breathlessly after pulling back from the kiss.  "He got away from me again!"  I look back to the counter, now devoid of one cute little butt, and spy a trail of cookie crumbs left in his wake.  Logan chuckles and I whip back around, squinting my eyes at him in false indignation.

"That's my boy," he says with a smirk.  His eyes are sparkling with amusement, and I just can't help myself but laugh.

"Your boy is gettin' a haircut today if it's the last thing I do!" I say, twisting away from Logan to catch Charles, who is running past with two cookies waving in the air.  He sees me on his tail and lets out a squeal before picking up speed and nimbly dodging my grasp.  Oh, you're in trouble, young man.  I've got my running shoes on this time.

Jumping over furniture and making hairpin turns, I am the tigress again, chasing my prey through the dense jungle.  The little creature is fast, but mama tiger has a strategy, and soon I have him cornered.  Fierce hazel eyes say that he won't go down without a fight.  But there's also a little twitch at the corner of his mouth that says he is enjoying this game.  I'm closing in now, and there is no escape...you're mine little wolverine.

"Well, what do we have here?" says a sultry Cajun voice behind me.  "It looks like Uncle Remy is just in time to rescue 'dis little bebette from a terrible fate!"

"Uncle Remy!" Charles slips past me in my moment of distraction and leaps into the safety of Remy's arms.

"Hey little man," says Remy, greeting him with a hug.  "You ready for a big day of fun with Uncle Remy and Aunt Jubilee?"  Charles nods his head enthusiastically and stuffs a hunk of cookie into Remy's mouth.

"Hey, Remy!  So good to see you!"  I give him a big hug and he kisses my cheek.

"Always a pleasure to see you, chère," he says with a smile.

It always makes me smile to see Remy holding Charles; the way he and Jubilee dote on him all the time is so sweet.  Remy and Jubes have been together almost as long as Logan and I have been, but I don't think they are planning on having any children; I really think they are perfectly happy just spoiling Charles all the time.  Which suits Charles just fine, I'm sure.

Funny how things have a way of working out; and never the way you think, either.  It's hard to imagine that at one time I actually thought that Logan would end up with Angelica, and because of that I went to find comfort in Remy's arms.  Thank goodness Remy was such a gentleman.  When I told Logan what Remy did that day, he actually gained a whole new respect for Remy, and since then they have actually become good friends.

Angelica and Bobby are married now, if you can believe that.  He asked her to dance that night at the gala, just like he said he would, and the two hit it off right away.  Fire and Ice, go figure.  They have a little red-haired girl that Charles just adores.

"Hey, Gumbo," says Logan as he walks into the room, breaking my reverie.  "Thanks for taking Charles out for the day.  I owe you one."

"Out for the day?  What's this?" I look at Logan inquisitively.

"She forgot," he says to Remy, shaking his head.  Forgot?  What did I forget?  I quickly go through my mental checklist.  There's no mission tonight as far as I know, nowhere that we're supposed to be.

"Hmm, perhaps you better get busy reminding her, homme," Remy replies with a wink.  "C'mon, little man, let's go get Aunt Jujube and have some fun."  Charles gives him a big smile and stuffs another hunk of cookie into Remy's mouth.

"Bye Mama, bye Daddy!"  He waves at us like he's the celebrity in a parade as Remy carries him out the door.

"Bye, Charles--be good!"  I shut the door and turn back to Logan.  "So, are you gonna tell me what this is all about?"

He pulls me close and kisses me on the nose.  "Nope.  If you don't know already, I'm not going to just give you the answer."

I squint my eyes at him.  "Is that so?"

"That's so."

I circle around Logan, looking him up and down.  He just continues standing there with a smug look on his face.  So, he's in the mood for games, is he?  I'll play.

"Come with me, young man," I say, crooking my finger.  The corner of his mouth twitches, and he takes a tentative step toward me.  I take his hand and pull him behind me, leading him down the hall and into the bathroom.

"Are we taking a shower?" he asks innocently.

"Sit," I order him, nodding my head toward the chair I have waiting in front of the vanity.  He smiles and sits down with his back to the vanity, then leans back and laces his fingers behind his head, that damn eyebrow cocked like he is quite pleased with himself, the smug bastard.  I refuse to notice that sexy, touchable spot of muscular abs showing where his shirt has ridden up a little.  No, I need to focus if I'm going to win this little game.  Too bad my body hasn't gotten the message; before I realize it, I'm biting my lip and staring, while the smile on Logan's face is getting wider.  Ahem.  Focus, Rogue.

"Are you sure you don't want to just tell me?" I say, slowly circling him again.  I trail my hand, light as a feather, across his chest and along his shoulders as I make my way around, then caress the stubble on his cheek and under his chin.

"Yep," he says, still looking smug.  Oh, I am gonna wipe that grin right off of his face.

I circle behind him once more.  Placing my hands on his shoulders and slowly sliding them down over his chest, I lean in close to his ear.  "We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way, Sugar," I murmur into his ear.  Logan tries not to show any reaction, but there's a slight hitch in his breathing as my breath caresses his ear, and little goose bumps appear on the back of his neck.

"I'd say that I like it easy," he says, recovering quickly, "but I know you like it hard, don'tcha, darlin'?"  He accents that last part by shifting his hips a little and adjusting himself.

"Hmmm...so, you're gonna make it hard for me, then?"  I say with a husky voice against his neck.  "How hard?"  Logan smirks at the innuendo.  "Are you gonna make me beg?  Pleeease," I whisper.   "Please, Logan...Is that what you want to hear?"  I swing around to face him and push his legs apart, kneeling between them and looking up innocently.  "What if I get down on my knees and beg...will you tell me then?" 

Logan tries to keep his expression neutral-yet-smug, but there's nothing neutral about what's going on between his legs.  He shifts in the chair and lets out a low rumble.  "Keep that up, darlin', and you'll be begging for something very soon," he says with a predatory glint in his eyes. "That still won't get you any answers, though."

"Is that so?"

"That's so."

Part of me gets a little thrill from playing this game, knowing that he could quickly turn this whole thing around on me and make me beg for real.  The thought sends a little tingle down my spine.  I can't help wanting to walk that fine line between making him squirm and pushing him just a little too far.  I know he loves it when I walk that line, too. 

I stand up and glide my hands up his stomach and chest, then straddle his legs and rest my arms around his neck.  I can feel the hard ridge in his jeans, pressing against a very nice spot between my legs.  I lean forward and hover my lips just a hair's breadth away from his mouth.

"You know," I say, putting on a fake foreign accent, "Ve haf vays of making you talk."  I shift my hips and grind against his erection, eliciting a stifled groan from Logan.  Now I'm the one with the smug look on my face.  You like that, sugar?  Nice and slow, I lift my shirt, Logan's eyes following every inch of exposed skin as I take off my top in a sensual striptease.  I raise myself up and lean forward, allowing my breasts to brush up against his face.  He closes his eyes and nuzzles them ever so slightly, drawing in my scent.  His hands twitch, and I can tell he's fighting the urge to place his hands on my hips, to push them down and make me grind against him again.  I extend my hand discreetly behind Logan to reach for something on the vanity.

"Unfortunately for you, Wolverine," I continue with the accent, "not all of those ways are...pleasurable."  That's when I flick on the switch of my hair clipper and hold it front of him menacingly like I've just pulled out a torture device.

The look on his face is surprise at first, which is quite satisfying, because Logan is very hard to surprise with all those enhanced senses of his.  I can't restrain the grin that forms on my face when I realize that I actually managed to spring something on him like that.  Logan quickly recovers from the surprise and puts on his poker face, but not before a spark of challenge lights up his eyes.

"That's playin' dirty, darlin'," he says with a low gravelly voice that goes straight between my legs.  "You better watch yourself, 'cause you ain't seen the kind of dirty that I can dish out."

"Make one move, and you'll be balder than the Professor," I say with a glint in my eyes.  "Now, tell me everything you know, Wolverine."

We just stare at each other for a long moment, eyes locked in challenge, arousal thick in the air around us.

"God, you're beautiful when you're devious," he breathes.  "So fucking beautiful."  He captures my lips in a hungry kiss.  His strong hands grasp my hips, pushing them down and grinding me against his hardness, and I moan into his mouth, heady with the sensation.  He slides his hands from my hips to my waist, grasping, kneading, then sliding his hands further up to graze the curves under my breasts with his thumbs.  Suddenly I've forgotten all about this little game we've been playing, can't think about anything except for this moment, this feeling as Logan fills my senses.

He slips a finger under my bra strap, tracing it up and down slowly.  With his other hand, he exposes a few inches of one claw, and cuts the strap.  I can't help the tiny gasp that escapes my lips, and he smiles.  He does the same with the other strap; then, slipping his finger between my breasts, he lifts the small strip of fabric there and slides his claw underneath.  The feel of the warm metal gliding sensually over my skin makes me bite my lip, and I have the sudden urge to lick the blunt side of the blade, kiss the space between his knuckles.  Logan seems to sense what I'm thinking, because his eyes look up to mine and the corner of his mouth pulls in a sexy, arrogant smirk before he slices through the fabric.  My bra springs open and he tosses the shredded remains to the floor, then pulls me to his mouth for a deep kiss.

His lips travel from my mouth to my jaw and then my neck, blazing a trail of kisses and licks down to my collarbone.  He takes his time caressing the curve of my breasts on the sides, underneath, kisses the cleavage between them; everywhere except where I need it, slowly driving me crazy.

"Logan..." I whimper.  I squirm in his lap, wrapping my legs behind the chair for leverage and rolling my hips.

Logan's eyes look up as he is kissing the space between my breasts and he smiles.  With the voraciousness of a starving man, he takes my nipple into his mouth and begins sucking, licking, teasing with his tongue.

"Ahh," I cry softly, my head falling back in pleasure.  He begins ministrations to the other breast, kissing, sucking, grazing ever so slightly with his teeth, causing me to gasp.  I raise my head and catch a glimpse of us in the mirror.  I have a glazed look in my eyes as I stare at this sensual scene before me; watching our reflection, Logan's head moving as he teases one breast and then the other while at the same time feeling all those sensations is incredibly erotic, and my arousal bumps up a notch.

I think Logan can smell the spike in my arousal, because he suddenly stands up with a growl, carrying me over to the vanity and setting me on the counter.  He pulls off his shirt and then quickly tears off all the clothing from the lower half of my body.  His mouth comes crashing down on mine again, his hand tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer and pushes his tongue into my mouth, demanding to taste every square inch of my lips and tongue.

He reaches down between us, unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans, freeing his cock to spring forward with a groan.  The hot, thick stand of flesh is heavy on my leg, nudging at the apex of my thighs as Logan continues plundering my mouth with his tongue.

I am lost in a lust-induced haze, but somewhere in my fuzzed brain, I become vaguely aware of a strange buzzing noise.  I'm about to dismiss it as a minor distraction, because I've got better things to focus on, like Logan's hand sliding up my inner thigh.  Then it finally registers.  I break the kiss and look down in disbelief at the source of the buzzing sound.  There in my hand lies the forgotten clipper!  Realization dawns on me, and my jaw drops.

"You dirty rotten scoundrel!  You--distracted me with your damn--sexy moves!" I sputter.

"Told you I would play dirty," Logan says with a smirk.

I hop off the counter and squint my eyes and scowl with the evilest look I can muster.  "This is your last chance, sugar.  You better tell me what this is all about, or I am gonna shave off every last hair on your body."  I hold up the clipper threateningly.

"Is that so?"

"That's so."

We stare at each other for a long moment, not a sound in the room except the buzz of my clipper.  Suddenly in a move quick as lightning, Logan snatches it from my hand and with a flick of his fingers drops the batteries to the floor.  He sets the clipper down and takes a step towards me, crowding me back against the vanity, towering over me with a look on his face that is positively feral.

"I told you to watch yourself, darlin'."  He slowly glides his hands up and down my sides, then abruptly grabs my hips, spinning me around to face the mirror.

"Oh!" I yelp in surprise.

Logan wraps an arm across my body to hold me against his chest, his other hand reaching down to cup my crotch.  I stare at our reflection in the mirror; his huge, muscular form wrapped possessively around my small body; his tan skin against my creamy white skin.  "Now you're gonna watch yourself for real," he rumbles into my ear.  He pushes a finger inside me, and my head falls back against his shoulder, a small moan escaping my lips.

"Look at yourself," he commands.  "I want you to see how you look when I do this to you."  He slides his finger out, gliding it up to rub slow circles around my clit, then dips back down again to push two fingers in.  My head is still leaning back against his shoulder, but I can see myself in the mirror, my mouth open and a look of sheer pleasure written on my face.

His eyes are fixed on me in the mirror, watching me as I watch us, as he continues to relentlessly toy with me.  Back and forth, he alternates between pushing his fingers inside of me and sliding them out over the slick folds to tease and rub my clit, while I moan and writhe under his firm grasp.

His breathing is getting heavier, and I can tell that his own need is growing with every moan that is wrung from me.  He gently turns my face back toward his and takes my mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, then turns my face back toward the mirror.

"Watch," he commands.  Then he bends me forward and thrusts himself inside me, burying himself to the hilt.

"Oh, God!" I cry out, and I watch the look of satisfaction on Logan's face as my own forms an expression of complete ecstasy.  He grips my hips and starts pumping into me, agonizingly slow at first, withdrawing with a long, slow slide, and then back in, letting me feel every inch as he fills me completely again and again.  It's so, so good; a delicious torture, winding me tighter and tighter each time until I can't take it any more.

"Logan, please..." I whimper.

"What's that, baby?" he murmurs into my ear.

"Please..." I whimper again.

"Please, what?  Please stop?" he says with a small hint of a smile.

"N-no!  Don't s-stop!" I say desperately as he stills himself.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know that he won't really stop until we're both finished, but in this moment I'm so desperate I can't even think straight.  I start pushing myself back against him, frantically trying to regain the beautiful friction of our bodies.  "Please, Logan...more!"  I plead.

"Oh, you want more?" he murmurs. 

"Yes--yes!  Please!" I beg.

"Well, since you're begging me so nicely..." He slams into me forcefully and I cry out in a loud moan.  He withdraws and slams into me again, causing me to see stars.

"You feel so good, baby," he says hoarsely, pounding into me again and again.  He pulls me upright against his chest, still buried deep inside, and kisses me hungrily.  I wrap my arm up behind his neck, pulling him closer, gripping his hair as he thrusts into me again.  His hand slides up and down my body, cupping my breast, stroking my belly, lightly brushing that sensitive mound between my legs and sending off sparks in my body, then caressing my belly again.

"Marie...," he murmurs, kissing my favorite spot, the one between my neck and shoulder that makes my knees go weak.  "Marie..."

When he says my name, I know that neither one of is playing the game anymore.  Time to lay our cards on the table.  "Logan," I whisper.  "I love you...I love you so much."

Logan pauses for a moment, and looks into my eyes through the mirror.  "That's all I wanted to hear, baby." He kisses me deeply, tenderly, taking my breath away with the love in his kiss.  "Now look," he says, his eyes going back to the mirror.  He wraps his arm around me and begins moving his hips slowly again, his dark, intense eyes never leaving mine as he slides in and out.

"Do you remember the first time we made love just like this?" he asks.  "You were wearing your silk dress that night, and I was wearing a tux...you looked so beautiful."  He kisses my neck.  "We were talking with friends, dancing, putting on a nice show for the professor...but all I could think about was being inside you again."  He kisses my shoulder and pushes into me a little harder.  I'm so close to climax right now that I can barely see straight, but somewhere in my addled brain there is a tickle of a memory starting to form.

"We went back to your room so you could fix your hair, but I followed you into the bathroom, because I just couldn't wait another minute," he says, his voice starting to strain with the need for release.

"The gala!" I gasp.  "Our first night together."

"That's right, baby," he smiles, nuzzling my neck.  "Best night of my life."

Logan kisses me once more, then with a growl he begins thrusting into me harder, wildly and desperately driving us both towards the brink.  He brings his hand down between my legs, and it only takes one touch to bring me over the edge, a powerful orgasm rocking through my body with the force of a tsunami, wave after wave of mind-numbing ecstasy crashing over me.  Logan follows soon after, sinking his teeth into my shoulder as he is taken by the wave of his own earth-shaking orgasm.

Sated and trembling, I feel like I'm going to collapse forward, but Logan pulls me back against his chest, wrapping his arms around me securely.

I look into the mirror at our reflection, and the memory of that night comes rushing back to me, the past and the present overlapping each other before my eyes in the mirror.  Then and now, Logan and I look into each others eyes with the same love...the same passion...possession...devotion.  Still best friends and lovers, still soulmates after all this time.

"Happy Anniversary, Marie," he whispers in my ear.  He picks me up and carries me to our bed, where we spend the rest of the evening celebrating.  Five years ago, we never did make it back to the gala after sneaking off to my room.  And tonight, I know we'll never make use of that damn hair clipper.  That's ok; I've always loved that wild, untamed hair of his.  And at this rate, I may never cut it again.