{Rogue}
"I could never sleep with Logan."
I stared at Jean in disbelief. "You're telling me that Scott gave you permission -- basically said, go ahead and fuck Logan --" She interrupted me with a disapproving, "Rogue!" but I continued, "and you said no?" I shook my head. "I don't believe it."
Logan had been back for six months after being gone for eighteen. He looked at me as if I were still a kid, but there was nothing brotherly in the smoldering stares he gave the good doctor. I would have killed to be in her shoes, and she wasn't even going to take advantage of it.
"I love Scott, Rogue. Why would I want to mess that up?" She was at the kitchen table, making out the list of wedding guests. The eternal engagement was finally coming to an end. They'd set a date, and preparations were gearing up, because Scott was a stickler for planning, and Jean had been dreaming about this day since she was eight.
"But Scott said it would be okay!" I couldn't wrap my mind around that, either. I mean, I love Scott. I do. And I could totally see him wanting Jean to get Logan out of her system before they actually got married. But still, to allow your woman to sleep with another man -- to give her the go-ahead? It seemed foreign to me. Or maybe that was the vestiges of Logan in my head, rearing up against the idea of allowing another man near his mate. Which Jean wasn't. Dammit.
"I know that if I slept with Logan, he'd never let me go."
The sheer arrogance of that statement made me angry. And sick. Because it was possibly true. But still, it sat badly with me, and I've never been one to hold back when I get angry. At least, not since I got a double-dose of Logan.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" I snapped. "Logan may want to fuck you six ways from Sunday, but he's not in love with you. You know that, right?" I was pretty sure he wasn't. I mean, he hadn't been when he'd left two years ago. Of course, they'd only known each other a handful of days at that point, as opposed to the six months they'd lived together since the last time Logan touched me. So it was sheer bravado that made me add, "I won't always be 'little sister.' My time is gonna come, Jean, and when it does, he's gonna be mine."
Jean gasped in shock. I don't think anyone had ever spoken to her that way. "Rogue, I -- "
I cut her off. I'm sure she was going to say something calm and reassuring, something about how I had to move on, and didn't I know Bobby and Remy both would kill to go out with me? "So take your shot now, Red. 'Cause once he's mine, ain't no one gonna take him from me."
And I turned and walked away before she could respond.
{Jean}
I watched Rogue walk away and I wished once again that my telepathic powers were stronger. That girl has so much going on in her head, only Charles can ever get a good read off her, and it's not that easy for him, either.
I have to say, she continually surprises me. We'd all thought she'd gotten over Logan in the time he was gone. She laughed and flirted -- she had every straight male in the mansion hot on her little tail, including, much to my chagrin, Scott. Oh, he was faithful and he loved me, but I could tell sometimes that he was looking past me when we sat in the dining room, even though I couldn't see his eyes. I'd know when Rogue walked in, hips and hair swaying hypnotically, a siren calling to every man on the premises.
I don't know how she does it, either. I know I'm beautiful. I have a mirror and eyes. It's not conceit. It just is. I know when men want me, and I know how to make a man who's not interested change his mind quickly.
But Rogue goes from being a sweet, innocent, young thing to liquid sex faster than anyone I've ever seen. Sometimes I don't even think she's aware of it. Logan certainly isn't. He knows that the boys like her, but to him, she's just a little girl. Or maybe she refrains from doing her Temptation Personified act in when she's with him. Because I don't think even her toxic skin would get in his way if she did.
So, Logan never looks at her the way he looks at me. And maybe it was arrogance that made me so sure that I could have him -- keep him -- if I wanted to. Maybe it was ignorance of his feelings for her that made me think that he was in love with me, instead of only in lust. Or maybe I was projecting my fears onto him; maybe I was afraid that if I went to him, I wouldn't be able to leave. I don't know.
And I certainly wasn't ready to find out when he walked into the kitchen where I was still standing, recovering from my confrontation with Rogue.
"What kind of game are you and Scooter playing?" he asked, backing me up against the refrigerator.
Shit. He'd heard.
"I, I don't know what you're talking about," I managed to say, looking up at him and pouting slightly. It didn't work on him. I should have known it wouldn't.
"You. Me. A pity fuck."
"No, no," I answered quickly. "Not pity. Just --" Damn that girl for bringing this up where he could hear it.
He put both hands flat against the freezer, one on each side of my head. I was more turned on than scared, and he knew it. "Just what, Jeannie?"
"Getting it out of our systems before I get married."
He appeared to be thinking it over. He leaned in, sniffed my neck. I turned my head to give him better access. Damn. I didn't mean to do that.
"And do you think you could?"
"Could what?" I asked breathlessly, cursing his effect on me.
He licked his lips deliberately. "Fuck me out of your system."
"I, I--" I was stuttering like a schoolgirl on her first date, and it had been a long time since anyone had done that to me. I didn't like it. I liked being the one in control, as I always had been with Scott.
"I don't think you could, Jeannie. I don't think you want to."
"I don't want to fuck you," I responded, knowing that's not what he meant.
"Liar," he whispered. "That's not what I meant, and you know it." I said nothing. Just who exactly is the mind-reader here? He was still weighing the idea. I reached a hand up to the side of his head. He quickly caught it and pinned it to the refrigerator. "No peeking, Red. It's not fair." His eyes held mine; they were dark with desire. All I had to do was say yes. Just surrender and --
He let me go abruptly and began pacing. "I don't like playing games. I don't like being used." He stopped and leaned in again, "And I don't ever want to be the reason Marie gets hurt. Do you understand?"
"You love her."
"I, I do, yeah," he said, and I knew he was being honest. "I don't know if I'm in love with her, but I think it's a definite possibility. Someday." He started pacing again. "She's not ready yet. She doesn't understand -- but she will. And I'm willing to wait." He gave that half-grin that makes all the girls' knees melt. "What did she say? 'My time is gonna come?' Well, I'm looking forward to it."
He walked out the same door she had earlier.
I stayed pressed against the refrigerator, trying to figure out what he meant.
{Scott}
As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Yes, I had just given Jean -- my fiancée, the light of my life -- permission to sleep with Logan if she wanted to. Not that I have any say, really. I'm not her owner or anything.
We were arguing over him, as we have been a lot lately. About how he teaches his class. Which just leads to the argument about how he's always leering at Jean, when he could pretty much have any woman he wanted. Of course, that's part of her appeal. She's taken, and he can't stand that she's mine. I mean, with me. She hates it when I get possessive, but doesn't she see what life would be like with him?
So, the challenge popped out. "Go ahead, sleep with him. It's okay by me. Maybe if you finally do it, you'll get it out of your system."
I hoped, prayed, expected even, for her to say, "Oh, no, Scott. I would never. It's you I love and you I'm marrying." That's what she's always said in the past, so why would this time be any different?
But it was. She stared at me for a moment, and then said, "Maybe I will." And not defiantly, either, like she just wanted to get my back up. She said it thoughtfully, as if she were really considering it. And I can't take it back. Because I need to know.
If she chooses to do it, then I'll know that her lust for someone who's not me is stronger than her commitment to me. Or I'll know that it was a one-time only thing and that she loves me and just had to sow one more wild oat. I don't think Jean's sown many. God knows, I haven't.
What I didn't plan on was the effect our little game -- and I know that's what Jean thought it was -- would have on the other players. I didn't realize, and I curse myself for being blind, that Jean, Logan and I weren't the only players.
Rogue was involved.
Because Rogue loves Logan.
It was a truth so self-evident that to have forgotten it made me question my own sanity. Everyone else believed she'd gotten over the hairy son of a bitch by the time he decided to come back here, but I knew differently. She and I have grown close over the two years she's been with us, and she'd told me how she felt about him. Even asked me once or twice for advice on how to snag him.
I told her I didn't think he was good enough for her, but that didn't deter her. She wanted him, and I had a feeling she'd get him, and long before he ever knew what hit him. Because, damn, she's a sexy girl. I love Jean dearly. And my lust for her is unabated, even after all the years we've been together. But sometimes, when she wants to be, Rogue is pure sex in silk gloves. I've seen it, and I've wanted it, and it scares the hell out of me, because if she's like this at nineteen, can you imagine her at twenty-one, or thirty, when she actually knows what to do with all of it?
But it was an angry Rogue confronting me in the garage. "What the fuck do you think you're doin', One-Eye?" she snarled. She only let Logan out when she was really upset, so I figured it out right away.
"I just wanted to --" but she wouldn't let me finish.
"You playin' some kinda game, Scott? You think it's funny? You know as well as I do that Logan will be on her like a cheap suit on a used car salesman. Which means that you and I are gonna be left out in the cold." She was pacing back and forth, her agitation visible in the way her hands fluttered as she walked.
"I have more faith in Jean than that, Rogue."
She laughed scornfully. "They've been circling each other like dogs in heat, Scott, and you think she's gonna be faithful?"
"Yes. And I think Logan cares too much about you, and her, to take her up on it if she's not."
Maybe I was naïve. Maybe I was stupid. But I had the strangest hunch that Rogue's feelings were returned. I don't think Logan knew it. He's a dumbass at the best of times when it comes to other people's feelings, but I knew Rogue was the most important thing in his world. He'd come back when we'd called because she was in trouble, and he'd once again managed to save her from Sabretooth.
And I needed to know. I couldn't live my whole married life wondering if Jean was thinking of someone else while we were in bed together. I needed her to choose me, the way she'd chosen me five years ago, when we'd first starting dating seriously.
"And if she's not, and he doesn't?" The anger was gone from her voice. She just sounded young and sad.
I wiped my hands on a towel, so I wouldn't get grease on her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Then we'll deal with it." I dropped a kiss on the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo, and gave her a squeeze. "We'll live, Rogue. Whatever happens. I just, I can't live without knowing anymore. Do you understand?" Damn, that sounds selfish.
She sighed. "Yeah, I guess. I just wish," she paused and sniffed, "that I knew how to make him notice me. I mean, can't he see that I've grown up?"
I pulled back and looked at her. She wore a tight, short-sleeved black cotton top that hugged her curves nicely and stopped just above her navel. Her black jeans rode low on her hips, exposing a strip of enticingly bare, dangerous skin. The gloves and scarf just added to her allure, accenting her long, graceful neck and delicate hands and arms. Her face, framed by the white and chestnut of her hair, was fine-boned and porcelain-skinned, with a light dusting of freckles that made me wonder if she had them all over. And that's enough of that, I told myself sternly. Give her an ego-boost, Scott. Don't drool all over her. That's a good way to wind up sleeping on the couch or with a bellyful of claws, or both.
"I don't understand how he could miss it," I replied honestly. "Your time will come, Rogue. Really."
She must have sensed my sincerity, because she smiled suddenly. She's got a beautiful smile. It's a cliché, but she could turn the world on with her smile. She pressed her fingers to her lips and then to my cheek.
"Thanks, Scott," she whispered. She left me staring after her as she walked away, her anger and tears a memory. I watched the sway of her hips and hoped Logan would realize what he was missing.
{Logan}
I went looking for the kid and I found her, sitting on a bench in the garden.
"Hey."
She looked up at me, all doe-eyes and full lips. "Hey yourself," she said softly.
I try not to think about how full her lips are. And soft. I'll bet they're warm, too. The only time I ever got to touch them, they were cold. She was dead, or as close to death as anyone's ever been who's still walking around breathing.
I sat down next to her and she scooted over, leaving more space than I really liked between us. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say, but I knew I had to say something. I could no longer pretend her feelings were a simple crush that would fade in time.
You think I didn't know how she felt about me? What am I, stupid? Okay, don't answer that. I can be stupid and dense and all the things I'm sure One-Eye calls me when he's telling her I'm no good for her. But I'm observant. When something catches my interest, I learn everything I can about it. That's what a good hunter does, and I'm the best damn hunter there is.
And no doubt about it, Marie caught my interest from the first moment I saw her. No, even before that -- from the first moment her scent wafted into that bar in Laughlin City, I was curious. She smelled clean and pure and innocent under the grime and fear and desperation. And I hadn't smelled a lot of innocence in my life up until then. So it was new.
It's not new anymore; it's home. Sounds strange for a guy like me to talk about home, eh? But it's true. It's not the walls of this mausoleum Chuckles calls a school that make it home to me, it's Marie. Anywhere she is, is home. God, I sound like a pansy.
When I came back, it was for her, not Jeannie. Sure, I want to have sex with Jean. And I know she wants me, too. I could have had her up against the refrigerator, her legs wrapped around my hips, her nails scraping down my back -- and two years ago, I would have. No questions asked. And then I'd have high-tailed it out of here, never to be seen again.
But I couldn't. Because of Marie. And her feelings for me. And my feelings for her. Then there's that whole grudging respect thing Scooter and I got going on. I may not like the guy, but taking Jean would rip the heart right out of him, the sad bastard. He's pussy-whipped so bad that he actually likes it. There was a time when I'd have laughed and said he gets what he deserves for telling her to fuck around. But not anymore. Because of Marie.
She makes me a better person. I know it. And I can't do anything to hurt her. I'm still trying to make up for the fact that I almost killed her.
"You're thinking about the night you clawed me, aren't you?" she asked. I don't know how, but she can read me like a book sometimes. Probably because of how much of me she's got in her head.
"Yeah," I said, uncomfortably. I don't like talking about it. It's number one on the hit parade of my nightly horrors.
She reached out a gloved hand, tentatively, and said, "It's okay, Logan. You healed me. You saved my life, three times. You've got nothing to feel bad about."
I took her hand and pressed it to my lips, surprising both of us. She flinched and I let her go. She's not ready. That's what I told Jean, and I meant it. She's still scared of touching, and she can't be. She can't be afraid when she comes to me. And she can't be settling for me -- choosing me because I'm the only one not scared to touch her.
"Yeah, I do," I replied. "I promised to protect you and I couldn't."
"Oh." Then, "That was my fault. I wasn't careful. I should have known it was Mystique. Should have sensed--"
I put a gloved hand to her lips. Warm. I knew it. "If I had been here, you wouldn't have been left alone like that."
"You came back. You saved me again." She sighed. "I'm never gonna be useful to the team if I can't take care of myself, Logan."
"Another few months of trainin' with me, darlin', and even I wouldn't wanna meet you in a back alley," I said, which got me a smile.
"You think?" Her tone was wistful. She wanted to belong so much, give back to the people who had taken her in. It was my job to make sure they didn't take advantage of her. She's too giving -- she doesn't realize that nine out of ten times, when you extend a helping hand to someone, they're just looking to pull you down with them.
"I know."
Her smiled widened. "Thanks."
"Anytime."
She got up to walk away, but I grabbed hold of her hand. She huffed, but I knew she wasn't mad. She cocked a hip. "May I please have my hand back, sugar?" she said. She was sassing me, and I enjoyed it.
I brought her hand to my lips again and said, "I don't know, darlin'. I kinda like it where it is right now." I pulled a little, so she tumbled into my lap. "And this is kinda nice, too," I growled. I know women like it when I growl, and Marie was no exception.
She squirmed a little and her knees were on either side of my hips. Suddenly the situation wasn't funny anymore. She arched her back and I had to breathe in quick to make sure I didn't lose control. Jesus, two women -- the two women I want more than anything -- in two hours throwing themselves at me, and I don't plan to take either one. I really must be getting old.
"Like that, do you?" she purred, rocking into me. My God, Marie fucking purred. Maybe she is ready. I ran my thumb over her lips and her tongue flicked out to lick the leather. She tossed her hair. "I'm not a little girl, Logan," she said breathlessly.
"I noticed," I muttered, far more interested in the motion of her hips. Her hands were on my shoulders and mine were on her ass -- stop that. Dammit. She's not ready. I had to keep telling myself that, even though I was thinking she seemed beyond ready at the moment. "Marie, baby," I began, my voice harsher than intended because I really, really wanted to just roll her over and bury myself in her, right there in the fucking garden. Heh. I guess then it really would be a fucking garden. I shook my head. What the hell was I thinking?
"Yeah, Logan?"
Oh, fuck. The way she said my name -- "We can't do this, Marie." A pout. Man, where did she learn all this stuff? What happened? Yesterday, she was a kid and today she's a freakin' sex kitten.
Maybe I´m not as observant as I thought.
"Why not?" And there's a little hurt in her voice. Shit.
"Because you're not ready. I don't want it -- us -- to be about anything but, well, us. I don't want it to be because you're afraid I'm gonna fuck Jeannie. Or because you're afraid no one will ever want you. Because they do want you. I can see it. And that little Cajun prick better watch his hands, or he'll be shittin' those cards for a month instead of flippin' 'em. Do you understand?"
"Who are you to decide if I'm ready?"
"No, baby. You decide. And you're not. Are you?" Please God, let her say yes.
She leaned forward and pulled her scarf up to cover my lips. Then she kissed me, soft and wet and deep through the silk. "I was just waiting for you," she whispered against my lips.
I slid an arm under her legs and she wrapped hers around my neck. I gave her another quick kiss before I carried her up to my room. "I'm ready," I replied.
You know all that shit I just said? Forget it. Our time has finally come. Hell, yeah.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Meg, Jen, Pete and Dot. This came from reading Jane St Clair's "All of the Animals" and having serious Jean issues. It's a cool story, and I love Logan/Scott slash, but Jean irritated me. So I had to write this, even though it was six am and I was supposed to be in bed.