Challenge:
115) Pairing: Logan/Jean
What I'd like to see: Fight sex. They're fighting, physically or otherwise though preferably a physical fight, and it shifts into insanely hot sex. Maybe they're in the Danger Room or something.
What I don't want to see: Scott Summers involved in any way, shape, or fashion. ;)

A/N and disclaimer: This is actually my first venture into the X-Men genre but the challenge was for a pair and situation that I couldn't pass up. Since I am still in the process of acquiring all the comics and am not as familiar with that universe I'm confining my fic to the movie-verse canon. I don't want to spoil anything but I can let you know that this is set before the third movie ends. As my disclaimer I own nothing in regards to X-Men, Jean, Logan or even the challenge idea. The only thing in my possession is this small bit of writing that I offer to you. Enjoy.

Sleep did not come easily to her that night.

Jean Grey sighed in frustration as she lay in her bed. She sat up, pushing her red hair out of her face and glared at her pillow as if it was the cause of her sleeplessness. All this night she had tossed and turned, restless for some reason she couldn't name.

That's not completely true.

She knew at least part of the reason that she couldn't sleep tonight and hadn't been able to for quite awhile. That reason was currently located down the hallway and was quite asleep, at least as far as she could tell with her abilities. Her temper flared a bit. How could he sleep so easily while she was tormented night after night? She gave an unlady-like snort at the thought. During the day she could fend him off, and had done so for…

How long?

The anger faded slightly as she realized that she couldn't quite place the amount of time. It was as though a door stood between her and the answer. Frustrated again, this time at herself she pushed the question aside and stood, feeling the cool wood beneath her bare feet. It steadied her for a moment until his sleeping presence pushed itself into her awareness again. "Damn it," she swore and began pacing. Night after night she walked her room, so often that she was mildly surprised that there wasn't a groove marking her path by now. The pacing never truly helped her to rest but still she continued for lack of any other outlet for her frustration and…

Jean paused again in her thoughts even as her feet traveled their well-known route. Did she really want to admit the other feelings, if only to herself? They were dangerous, these feelings. Certainly she would never admit them to the others in the mansion though surely the Professor must know. Sometimes it seemed that he knew more about her than she did about herself. But if he did know he at least had the courtesy not to speak of it. As for her companions, they remarked on her tired countenance occasionally but they never seemed to guess its cause.

He knew though. She was willing to bet on that. The glances that she caught from him, the times he would contrive to brush against her while they worked. All of those told her that oh yes, he knew exactly what was wrong and why she was sleepless. Yet he had never made another overt move toward her after the first few. Only his eyes told her that he was fully aware of her.

She stopped pacing and closed her eyes, balling her fists in anger. "Why can't you leave me alone?" she whispered to no one. "Just leave me alone!" He voice rose in anger on the last words and a glass that had been resting on her nightstand flew across the room and smashed against the closet door. She stared at it for a moment and then grabbed her jeans and a clean shirt. She had to get out of here, had to work this off somehow, somewhere. More than anything she had to get away from him. As she buttoned the jeans and pulled on her shirt she remembered a clearing in the woods nearby that was used for sparring practice on occasion. When last she had been there the practice dummies were still strung from trees and hung on posts. Hopefully time hadn't changed that. Moving quickly Jean pulled on a pair of comfortable shoes and hurried out of her room, down the hall and out a back door. Her steps were light and silent as she hurried down a path away from the mansion and into the woods. So great was her concentration and need to get away that she never felt the change in his thoughts as he woke; she never saw the figure that moved to watch her intense flight from a darkened window.

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Wham! Wham! Wham!

Jean's fists slammed into the practice dummy, each blow connecting solidly and rhythmically. Unfortunately it was doing nothing to help relieve her frustration.

There was only one thing that would truly calm her at this point; or rather, one person. And she wasn't sure right now if she wanted to go to his room and take him violently or if she just wanted to fight him until he finally yielded or she ran out of energy. Unfortunately the first image continued to present itself prominently in her mind.

"Son of a bitch!" she swore aloud, swinging again and putting her full momentum into it.

Crack!

The pole that the dummy had been tied to snapped under the force of her blow and hit the ground. Jean stood there, panting for a long moment, her hair hanging in wet stings around her face. Even that intense burst of violence hadn't helped. "Damn him," she whispered. Suddenly her eyes went wide. He was there, standing just behind her. She forced her breathing to slow and tried not to show any sign that she had noticed him. Instead she waited for him say or do something.

Silence, except for the sound of her sharp breaths filled the clearing.

It occurred to her then that he had no intention of doing a single thing. She could feel it. If she didn't acknowledge him he would simply remain there for awhile and then leave as silently as he had arrived. Why, though? Why doesn't he do something? But she knew why. He had a sense of honor and since she had pushed him away already he would do nothing more than watch until she changed her mind.

He didn't see that she had made her choice a long time ago. Honor and loyalty also bound her, though. But loyalty to what? To who? Again her memory failed her. The fact that tonight her memory seemed so full of holes, the fact that he was so near and yet did nothing finally caused her to react.

She stepped forward toward the broken post as if to examine it then whipped around with a vicious kick. Jean's foot, however, only grazed her target as heturned to the defensive. She continued her follow through but was too slow to avoid the hand that lashed out and grasped her upraised foot, forcing it to stillness in midair.

"A bit touchy tonight, Jean?"

Her eyes flashed with barely suppressed anger and with a sharp movement wrenched her foot free of his grasp. She regained her balance and glared at him. "I came out here to be alone. Go away, Logan. Just go away."

Logan studied her for a long moment and she returned his gaze without flinching. I'm tired of always backing down! She thought as she watched him. He then stepped forward and lowered his voice. "And what's got you so worked up?"

That did it.

She swung at him, a flattened palm strike to his chest that connected perfectly, then ducked away and circled to the side.

He came after her with all the speed that he was known for. Her only advantage was the anger and desire that drove her tonight. The blows were exchanged with full force. This was no simple sparring match where attacks were pulled at the last moment. She could feel from the ones that slipped through her guard that these would leave telling marks later. And while her own blows would have left a similar story on him she knew that they were healing even as they fought.

Jean's sight blurred for a moment. Logan had that ability to come away from everything without a mark to show for it. And he would rise in the morning and never say a word nor look any different while she would be the one in pain, this time physically as well as mentally. She cried out with the need to make him suffer as she had for this long. Her arms flew toward him, palms toward him and pushed. He staggered backward a few steps before he was able to dig into the soft ground and lean into her assault. Just fall, damn you! Just give in this once and let me end it here! Her mind raged and gave her strength. A stirring of memory came back to her. There was a time so very long ago that such ability had been second nature to her. How long ago? What happened? But the memory was cut off again by what felt like a steel door slamming in her mind.

The next thing she knew strong arms were inside her guard and pinning her own as his weight bowled her over backwards. She hit the ground and felt her breath forced out of her as she was crushed under his body. Her vision cleared as she gasped for air and saw Logan watching her again, this time only inches from her own face. Her breath faltered, this time for a different reason. His eyes stayed fixed on hers and for the first time she read the pain and desire in them, the same that were reflected in hers. Too long they stayed that way and she knew that he would do nothing more if she didn't move first.

Jean let the other emotion that had been raging in her tonight take over. She stretched her head upward and pressed her lips against his. He remained still, unmoving, against her urging for a few seconds. Then, as if a damn had given way, he let go of her arms and slid his fingers into her hair, returning the kiss with all the passion he had just fought her with. Her arms moved of their own accord, reaching up to pull him closer against her body. Logan groaned with the feeling of having her pressed against him, full length. Then he tightened his grip in her hair and forced her head to tilt backwards, exposing the smooth lines of her neck. Swiftly he leaned down and sank his teeth into the soft flesh there.

She didn't cry out as he had expected. Rather, she growled deep in her throat, dug her nails into his shoulder blades to gain a moment of leverage. When he jerked upward at the sudden sharp pain she pushed and forced him over onto his back on the soft dirt. In the span of a heartbeat she was on top of him, straddling his hips and taking that moment to reclaim his mouth. Logan's hands abandoned her hair and instead traveled to her hips holding her tight as he moved his own upward. Her breath hitched in a gasp and he responded with a low growl of his own. She moved her body so that she was able to slide down the length of his erection that was becoming the center of her attention.

Yes! She thought, focusing her body's movements to match rhythm with his. I will not back down this time. Her hands reached for his shirt and without waiting for consent she pulled it off, half tearing it in the process. To her palms it felt as though his skin was on fire and she could only image how warm she must feel to him. As his hips rocked against her sharply she raked her nails down his chest, felt the skin tear and split under the assault and as she ran her hands back up she felt the welts heal. His breathing halted as he caught her hands in his and pulled them down to the ground, forcing her to be pressed against his chest.

"Logan," she whispered.

He paused in his actions but did not release her. "What do you want, Jean? What is it you truly want at this moment?"

Her vision blurred again as she listened to him. "I want…," but her voice failed her.

"Tell me, right now, is this all you want to come of this?" He shook her to make her focus on him again.

The sharpness of it did indeed snap her back to the situation but her voice seemed to have fled. Her lips formed the words soundlessly. I want you. I…love…

Slam!

The steel door in her mind slammed down and left her in darkness.

No! Don't take that one dream from me…

But the darkness had no answer other than to swallow her whole.

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Cold. Why am I so cold…?

The blackness faded slowly and she slowly opened her eyes, squinting at the brightness of the lights. Her first thought was that she was in the infirmary.

Her second was noticing who was sitting and staring at her with an expression of amazement, love and longing.

"Logan," she whispered, finding her voice.

He smiled and she knew. It had been only a dream. In his eyes was still that distance that would not be crossed unless it was by her doing.

I will have that dream.

And with that thought came a heat that flooded through her, driving away the last of the cold.