Title: Nights of Comfort - After The Mission
Author: Zia
Disclaimer: It isn't mine, as much as I wish it was.
Rating: PG-13, a couple of curse words from the mouth of Logan.
Couple: Logan/Rogue
Author's Note: This is my very first attempt at a fanfic that isn't Roswellian. Hopefully it doesn't suck too awful bad.

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Logan groaned as he lay back in his tent. That bitch Mystique was fucking with his head. It was bad enough to morph into Jean, but when he saw her as Marie, he nearly blew a gasket.

Sweet little Marie wasn't so little now. Full lips, luscious curves - fuck!

His ears perked up hearing someone walking towards his tent. Slowly the zipper came open, and in stepped Marie. It couldn't be Marie. "Get the fuck out!"

She flinched back. "Logan." Her face crumbled and she started to climb back out of the tent.

Logan sat up quickly and pushed her shirt up, exposing her smooth, flat, unscarred expanse of belly. He heard her gasp and skimmed his fingers over where the scar would be.

"Logan don't!" Marie tried to pull away but her knees gave out at the feel of the intimate caress.

Logan felt the familiar pull as she started to suck his energy dry.

She collapsed in front of him, and broke the connection.

"Marie?" Logan asked in a slight panic. "Say something kid."

"Why can't ya feel that way 'bout me?" Marie pulled herself back up to her feet and climbed out of the tent.

She could have died. Hours earlier, as she flew out of the jet, and Logan couldn't care less.

"What was Ah thinkin'?" Marie muttered to herself.


Marie woke with a start at the feel of weight against her chest. She opened her eyes quickly and saw that someone was in her bed. "Logan?" confusion and sleep laced through her voice.

"Didn't mean to wake ya up kid."

Marie noticed the slight trembling of his shoulders. "Logan?" She asked again. This time wide awake. "Nightmares?" She had hoped they would stop after he found some of his answers. But she was sure he gained new nightmares from everything that had happened.

He nodded faintly. "'Bout Jean?" Logan didn't respond and that was answer enough. "Let me get dressed. Don't move."

Marie climbed out of the bed and walked over to her closet. She could feel his eyes on her in the darkness of the room.

First she pulled on her gloves, then grabbed an oversized sweatshirt of Bobby's and pulled it over her nightgown.

Marie walked back to the bed and slipped under the blankets. Logan maneuvered himself so the sheet separated them, and the comforter laid over the top of them both.

Logan's head rested back on her chest and Marie's arms wound over his back, rubbing soothing circles on his shoulders.

"Ah know ya miss her. We all do. And Ah know ya really liked her. Or did ya love her?"

Logan's arms tightened around her waist. "Don't matter."

"Yes. It does." Marie gently combed her fingers through his hair.

"No, it doesn't. Not anymore." Logan lifted his head up for a second and glanced at her before laying his head on the pillow and pulling her into his arms. Her head rested against his chest and he rubbed her back. "That's not yours." He growled softly noticing the scent of the sweatshirt didn't belong to her.

"It's Bobby's." Her southern drawl once again laced with sleep.

"Get some sleep kid." He muttered.

"G'night Logan." Marie murmured as her eyes slipped shut, and was lulled to sleep by the sound of Logan's beating heart, and soft breaths.

"Good night darlin'." Logan kissed the top of her head and waited for her to drift off to sleep.