"So, who's the kid?"  Logan nods his head at the young man driving their car.

"That's Seth; Kitty and Piotr's grandson."

"Grandson?"  It takes him a moment to wrap his head around the idea of Piotr and Kitty being grandparents.

Well, what did he expect?  Life didn't suddenly stand still the moment he left the mansion, and he knows that.  But it's easy to forget how much everything changes when you look in the mirror every day and see the same face you did fifty years ago.  Everyone kept moving forward in their lives; everyone except him.  Not much has changed for him in five decades, and it makes his life seem so...stagnant and meaningless.

"Yeah.  He's a good kid," Jubilee says with a smile.  "Totes my ass everywhere I need to go, carries my bags, runs errands for me.  I don't know what I'd do without him."

"He's a big boy.  Just like his granddad."

"Yeah, he's a lot like Piotr.  Though his skin doesn't turn to metal.  It's more like a kind of force field built into his skin or something, which allows him to phase through or repel matter.  Hank thought it might be a kind of variation on Kitty's powers.  But Piotr's strength and size were definitely passed down to both his three sons and his grandson."

"Hmph."  Logan always liked the Tin Man.  Honest and hard working, strong as an ox with a big heart to match.  "How long has Piotr been gone?"

"A few years.  He and Kitty had a good life and grew old together, just like they always hoped they would.  Kitty passed away peacefully in her sleep one Sunday morning...poor Piotr went not long after.  Everyone knew he died of a broken heart," Jubilee whispers sadly.

Logan looks out the window.  He watches the dark silhouette of the tree line moving against the evening sky and says nothing.  It would be hard to helplessly watch your wife's life slip away...though he can't help but envy his old friend.  Piotr was lucky; at least he could die from his broken heart.

. . .

. . .

Logan races down the hall, heart pounding.  The med bay might as well be a thousand miles away for as long as it seems to get there.  He's nearly sick with the dread of what he will find.

He came back to the mansion after months on the road, thinking she would meet him excitedly in the foyer, throwing her arms around him for a big hug.  He was looking forward to that smile and the sound of her laughter ringing in the halls.  Instead he was met with concerned expressions, the sound of apologetic voices.

He growls at the memory and quickens his pace.  Finally, he arrives at the door, impatiently waiting as it opens with a swish.  The pungent smell of antiseptic hits him first, but there's another scent interlaced with it that punches him in the stomach: Rogue's blood.  He traces her scent to the last stall in the med bay, and warily pulls back the curtain.

His heart stops at the image before him.  Rogue. Laying in a hospital bed, hooked up to oxygen, tubes, and sensors.  Her face marred by big purple bruises, her one arm in a cast and the other in bandages, stained with blood.  She looks so small and fragile.

The reality of what could have happened sets in, and he has to fight down the panic and terror welling up inside him.

There's a young man, brown haired and almost boyish looking, sitting by her side, gloved hands holding her delicate bare hand.  Something about him seems vaguely familiar to Logan, though he can't put his finger on it.  Doesn't matter; he needs to get the hell out.

"Beat it, kid.  The new shift is here."

The young man looks up and opens his mouth to say something, but Rogue begins to stir and both of them snap their eyes to her.  Dark lashes flutter, slowly, as she opens her eyes and looks around.  Her gaze falls on Logan, and a tiny smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

"Logan," she whispers, lifting her fingers to reach for him.

Logan rushes over and gently takes her other hand, thankfully prepared with his own gloves.

"Hey darlin'.  How're you feeling?"  He gently strokes the white lock of hair from her forehead, careful not to bump her bruised cheek.

"Never better," she replies with a weak smile.

He sighs, bowing his head.  She's ok.  But barely.  He can't stop the trembling in his hands--God, he could have lost her.  She could have been gone, just like that.  He feels her thumb, softly caressing his hand, and he looks up.  Warm brown eyes are watching him, trying to comfort him.  Even in her battered state, she is the one comforting him.

"Rogue, do you need a drink?  More pain medicine?" asks the young man, breaking the moment.

"I thought I told you to beat it," Logan says gruffly, staring him down with a dark glare.

The young man looks at Logan, then at Rogue. 

"I'll be ok, Alex," Rogue assures him.  "Logan is... a good friend.  He'll take care of me."

There's a long pause as Alex tries to assess whether he should actually go or not.  Logan's  menacing stare makes him think that maybe he should.  "I'll be back in a little bit to check on you, Rogue," he says finally, standing up.

"Don't bother, 'cause I'm here all night," Logan informs him.

Alex looks at Logan once more and then Rogue.  "Alright.  Just...call me when you're ready for me."  Logan watches him walk away reluctantly, waiting for the swish of the med bay door to close before turning back to Rogue.

"Water, darlin'?"  She nods, and he gently supports her head and neck, bringing the cup to her lips.

She takes a small sip and leans back with a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment; even this small amount of activity is enough to wear her out.

He watches her for a moment, eyes roaming up and down her body, assessing her injuries.  He's trying to stay calm, for her sake.  Trying to be reasonable.  Soothing, even.  What do normal people do when they're trying to be calm and comforting?  Small talk, he guesses.  He's never been good at that, but he'll try.

"So...I heard you tried to take on the whole FOH by yourself, storming their headquarters like gang busters."

She almost laughs at that, but it turns into a cough and she grimaces in pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry.  I should've been more careful," he says with a worried expression.

"S'okay, Logan.  And it wasn't like that at all; we were ambushed."

Ambushed.  He clenches his fist, trying to tamp down his rising anger.  The word ambushed should not even be a part of her everyday vocabulary.  What the fuck were they thinking, putting her on the team in the first place?  Her powers wouldn't do her any good in a combat scenario, and she could have been killed.

He looks up and notices her watching him again with knowing eyes.

"I know what you're thinking.  And they didn't ask me to be on the team.  I asked them."

And just like that, his carefully measured demeanor cracks open and he can't hold himself in check.  "What the--why the hell would you do that, Rogue?  There is no reason to put yourself in danger like that.  How fuckin' stupid can you be?"

She opens her mouth to argue with him, then closes it, pursing her lips.  She wants to argue, but she is weak and tired, and she's not going to win this fight in her current state.  Instead she closes her eyes and turns her head away.  He can feel the sting of his words in her hurt expression, and he immediately regrets the harshness of his reaction.

"Hey...I'm sorry.  Darlin', look at me."  He touches her chin, gently turning her face back to him.  "I'm here to take care of you, not kick you while you're already down.  I'm really sorry, ok?"

She glares at him for a moment, but her expression softens.  "Fine, I'll forgive you.  This time."

"Thanks, kid."  He smirks at her.  "That's a real heart of gold you got there."  She sticks her tongue out at him and he chuckles.

Her face relaxes and she sighs.  "How'd you know I was hurt?  Did the Professor call you on the brain phone?"

He snorts at that.  "No, I was actually in town for your birthday.  I went looking for you when I got in, and that's when I found out you were in the med bay.  Almost gave me a damn heart attack, kid."

His words are light hearted, but deep down he can feel the disturbing sense of fear and loss still lingering in his gut.  He could have lost her.  He could have lost her, and he wouldn't have even known until it was too late.

"Some birthday, huh?" She says weakly.

He caresses her hand with his thumb, and his heart twists a little in his chest as he looks into her sad eyes.  He can't stand seeing her like this.  And he knows in that moment, that he'll do anything to take the hurt away.

"Well, maybe I can cheer you up," he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small box covered in green satin brocade.  Her face lights up, but he holds the box just out of her reach.  "There's a catch though.   You've gotta live in order to get it."

"Logan..."

"So, first things first."  Her eyes follow him as he sets the box down on the bedside table and stands up.  "I owe you a birthday kiss."

It takes a moment to register, but then her eyes widen with realization at what he is about to do.  "Logan, no.  You'll get hurt!" 

He leans over her, gently cupping her face in his hands. She tries to push him back, her hands pressing against his chest as he leans closer and closer, but she is helpless to stop him.

"A promise is a promise," he murmurs right before his lips make contact with hers.

He's been waiting for this moment.  Thinking about it way more than he'd care to admit, and now that it's here, it's even sweeter than he imagined it.

She tries to fight it at first, but it's not long before she opens her mouth to him, making little sounds of contentment.  It's a moment of bliss, before the connection opens up and then he feels her power, drawing the life from his body in a blinding rush of pain. 

The medical equipment erupts in a noisy cacophony of beeps and alarms, piercing his eardrums.   And then the noise begins to fade.  He is losing consciousness, and the alarms are a thousand miles away as darkness encroaches on the edge of his vision.  Everything is turning grey, and all he knows is the softness of her lips, the taste of her on his tongue.  Nothing else matters.

He feels her pushing him off, breaking their kiss and gasping.  The last sound he hears is Rogue, screaming for Hank as he slumps to the floor.

He wakes up a few hours later in the medbay.  This time he is the one in the hospital bed, and she is the one at his side.  She's not holding his hand, though.  Her arms are crossed over her chest, and she looks pissed.

"Hey," he croaks, blinking a few times, trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain.

"Don't hey me, mister," Rogue growls.  "You idiot!  What were you thinking?"  Her eyes are blazing with anger, and all he can think is that she is cute when she's mad.  "What would have happened if I wasn't able to push you off of me?  You could have died, Logan!"

"I'm fine," he replies, though truthfully he feels like death warmed over.

"You are not fine.  Not fine at all.  How fucking stupid could you be?  You have some nerve, giving me a hard time about putting myself in danger, and then you go and do something like this," she fumes.

"S'not the same," he mumbles.  "I heal."

"Ugh!  You think you're so invincible, don't you?  Well I have news for you, bub.  You aren't.  You keep taking chances on me, and one of these times you aren't going to heal."

Her words hang in the air as she glares at him.  He doesn't say anything for a moment, and the silence stretches out between them.

"I couldn't let you suffer like that," he says quietly.  "I just...can't do that, so don't ask me to."

After a moment, her expression softens, and she sighs.  "I know."

He lifts her hand to his lips and kisses it.

"You should have done things the safe way, Logan.  You could have brought in Jean or Hank, so they could keep things controlled and pull you off before I took too much from you.  Or you could have, I don't know, just touched a finger to my arm or something."

"And miss giving you your birthday kiss?  No way."  He smirks, lifting his arms and lacing his fingers behind his head with an air of confidence.  "Besides, if I'm going out, I'm going out in style.  No better way to die than by kissing a beautiful woman."

She blushes at that, and he cocks his eyebrow, completely satisfied with himself. 

"Oh, you wipe that look off your face, mister.  You're not completely off the hook yet."

"Hey, don't take this moment from me, darlin'.  Not only did I heal you completely with an amazing kiss, but you have to admit, I was your Prince Charming when I saved you from that ugly frog at your bedside."

She huffs with indignation, but he can see her trying to hold back a grin, until finally she breaks into laughter.

"Hey, now, that's uncalled for.  Alex is harmless; he's just a good friend."

"Sure he is."

"He is!"

"Uh huh."

"Ugh, you are impossible."

"I know.  But you love me anyway."

Her laughter fades, and she looks at him.  A long moment passes, until she finally gathers herself.  "Logan..."

"Hey, how 'bout opening that present now?" He says before she can finish.

She gazes at him for another moment, then looking down, she nods her head.  "Alright."

He sits up slowly, feeling every aching, adamantium covered bone in his body groan in protest.  Picking up the pretty little satin box from the side table, he places it in her hand and nods at the box.

"I saw this while I was in Japan.  Made me think of you."

She looks and him and smiles.  Carefully, she opens the box and she lets out a little gasp.

"Oh, Logan.  It's beautiful." 

"The Japanese call it sakura.  It's a cherry blossom."

"It's lovely," she whispers.  

He watches her eyes sparkle as she lifts the dainty gold necklace up and gazes at the pink flower dangling from her fingers.

"Here, let me help you put it on.  Sit next to me," he says, patting the bed.

She lets him take the necklace and sits down on the bed with her back to him.  He watches as she gathers her hair up to give him access to her neck, and for a moment, he is mesmerized.  The graceful curve of her neck to her shoulders, her scent, warm and sweet...he has to fight the urge to kiss the soft, delicate skin calling his name.

"Logan?"

He catches himself and blinks.  The necklace, he remembers.  Carefully, he drapes the necklace around her neck and fastens the clasp.

"There you go.  Happy twentieth," he says softly.  She turns around to show him.

"Thank you, Logan.  I love it."

He smiles at her for a moment, and tucks a white strand of hair behind her ear.  "One of these times you'll have to come with me to Japan during their cherry blossom festival.  It's beautiful."

"I'd like that."  She gazes at him with warm brown eyes.

His eyes drift down to the delicate pink flower nestled at the base of her throat.  He reaches out to touch it, brushing her skin lightly as he lifts the blossom with the tip of his finger.  She sucks in a small breath, but the contact is too short for her mutation to kick in.

"You know, the cherry blossom has as special meaning in the Japanese culture.  It reminds us that life is beautiful..." he murmurs, lifting his eyes to hers, "and so fleeting."

She looks at him and swallows.  He lays the blossom back in place and lightly touches it once more before removing his hand.

"Rogue..."  His eyes bore into her.  Demanding.  Pleading.  "Quit the team."

"Logan..." Her eyes fall, unable to withstand the intensity of his gaze.  "It's important to me."

"Marie...please."  He can hear the desperation in his own voice, but he doesn't care.  He'll do anything to keep her safe.

She looks at him for a long moment, torn.  "I'll think about it," she says finally.  "That's all I can give you right now."

. . .