A/N: In case you don't remember from the movie, Mystique had entered Logan's tent as Jean, but Logan realized she wasn't Jean. Then she quickly morphed into Storm and Rogue and then Stryker, asking "What is it you really want?" This is set just after that scene.

Disclaimer: I still do not own Marvel or Fox.

Seductress

Mystique morphed back from William Stryker to her own form and cursed her own pride. So Logan hadn't wanted her - she shouldn't have challenged him like that. He would never want her now. She would be repulsive to him, synonymous with a past he couldn't remember, instead of the future she had wanted to be for him.

It was true what she had told him - no one had ever left a scar like he had. She traced the three parallel scars just below her ribs and remembered his claws entering her, piercing her soul. No one had ever gotten past her defenses, no one ever got the best of her. She woke up from that experience a different person from the one who had almost died from that wound and it had healed over, leaving just three tiny reminders of the one man who had seen through her. Logan could tell who she was, even when she was playing someone else. That was his appeal. If she played a part for him, like she did with Magneto, at least she could take comfort in the fact that she still existed, in some sense.

And despite what Mystique had overheard Jean say, she believed that deep down Logan was a good guy. In the end, he could be counted on to stick around, moreso than anyone else in Mystique's life. It was true, he had some rough edges, but Mystique liked that in a man. She didn't need to know where he was all the time, and she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself if he ever wasn't around. But there was a reason he was on the X-Men and not with Magneto and it was because he really was a good guy, one who could be counted on, no matter his lone wolf veneer.

The night was a bit chilly, Mystique noticed as she moved away from one of their camp fires. The little fire starter sat next to skunk girl making shapes in the flames for her while the boy-popcicle tried in vain to blow up one of their tents. Mystique just rolled her eyes at them and kept walking, unable to stand still. She was too wound up.

Why did I have to imitate Stryker? Mystique beat herself up more. The last thing she wanted a man to do when she was interested in him was to start thinking. She hadn't meant to ask him a serious life question or anything, she had just been hurt by his rejection. She wanted to strike back, to hurt him like he had just hurt her. It was her pride that got in the way. It was always her pride. And now he was out of her reach, perhaps forever.

"My stupid pride," she muttered miserably as she trudged back to Magneto's tent. She entered without knocking, morphing into her role once more. He looked up expectantly and Mystique knew what he wanted. She glided over to him, a perfect copy of his Magda, and kneeled next to him.

"Say it."

She whispered in his ear, "I love you, Erik."

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A/N: As always, thank you for reading.

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