A/N: Okay… so I decided to add a second chapter to this story. Logan POV of his and Rogue's first encounter and this will probably ruin this one shot, but it's something I've been meaning to do for awhile now. I mean Logan's story really needs to be known.

I knew something was different. The air had changed, a few voices had stopped, and a new scent had entered the dusty old bar. The cold, winter Canadian air licked at my sweat covered skin from the open door way as a singular person passed through it. Even with my tough exterior, Goosebumps appeared across my arms.

I took a deep draw from my cigar, allowing its smoky taste to fill up my lungs and nostrils before exhaling. Through the smoky tendrils I saw the disturbance of my constant scene. A girl no more than seventeen- eighteen years old sat timidly on one of the worn out wood bar stools. Her green coat seemed to swallow her up. The connecting hood obscured her features. I leaned closer to the fencing that covered the arena I was in. My cigar in my right hand and a shot of whiskey straight in my left, I watched her.

So innocent she was sitting there ordering water. I could feel the intent of every male in this joint. I could sense their arousal even through the sweat and grim of this bar. Each willing to be a contestant to her whiles I am sure.

I studied her as she dropped her hood and smoothed out her long chestnut hair. A black gloved hand running through the strands unawares of the dangers around her. I heard the announcer walk into the ring; his heavy foot steps never distracting me from the naive girl sitting at the bar.

"…The Wolverine," I hear him announce and I was brought back to my present situation for only for the moment.

I take another long drag of my cigar before placing it on the corner stool; I knock back my whiskey and shake my head in anticipation for the next round. But the tavern door is opened again and a fresh wave of cold Canadian air sends me a scent that is almost overwhelming to my inner animal.

I take a deep drag from the evening night air, magnolias and something I hadn't smelled in along time seems to over power the putrid flesh of man. A mixture of danger and purity has me shivering involuntarily and has the beast inside me clawing at the barriers I have spent years putting up. I find her once again in the crowd past the jeering faces of men and the wanton whores that seemed to always surround places like this. Her green eyes stand out against the poor lightening and smoky hue of this no good place and I feel my heart stop in the moment.

I stare straight at her, cocking my head to the side as I study her features. Her skin is winter white, her eyes large as the stand out like emeralds against that ivory skin. Her pink lips part only slightly as she locks on to me from across the room and she slowly begins to drag me into her. She's consuming me even from the distance between us and I feel like I am drowning in her smell, in those eyes.

I am so consumed by the sight and the smell of her that I don't even register the meaty fist that connects to my jaw until it pulls my head away from her. I try to push her out of my mind and to concentrate on the person in front of me and at the money that will be won tonight.

But I can't. She's still there lingering at the forefront of my mind, her face lodged within my memory like Madonna herself. And The Wolverine has no intentions of letting her go and neither do I.

A/N: Well I hope I did this chapter justice. I don't think I did nearly as good a job as I had the last chapter but who knows maybe I have. We will just have to see.