Jean rolled off the couch, reaching for the gun Frank insisted she keep close by as the lock turned over on the apartment door. Frank had gone to bed long ago, trying his best to keep her mind off of the fact that Logan hadn't returned. She had packed and unpacked the bag three times, too tense to keep track of her conversation with Frank, as kind as he was being to her. As she hid herself pressed against the wall behind the bookcase, she sensed Frank looking out his bedroom door.
"Logan," Frank greeted, disappearing into his dark bedroom.
Jean came out from behind the bookcase, setting the gun on the kitchen table.
"Didn't want to bring trouble back with me."
"Someone was following you?"
"I should have sent you with Kitty and Gumbo," Logan growled, tossing his jacket on the back of the couch.
"I won't go."
"You won't get hurt in New Orleans," he reasoned.
"You don't know that, I could be captured. What are you involved in?"
"Jean, you don't have to risk your own life-" he paced the floor.
She gave him a disapproving stare. "They killed my husband."
Logan closed his eyes, letting out a strained breath through his nose. "We'll have to keep on the move for awhile."
"That's fine."
"When you can't handle it anymore-"
"You'll be the first to know. I'll go to New Orleans without a fight."
"We're going to hit Stryker where it hurts, little by little, while we organize. He was subtle, so that's what we do."
"Makes sense, he'd figure us to use all our power on him all at once. Trying to flush us out like vermin," Jean said thoughtfully.
Logan sat on the couch beside her, concern in his eyes.
"I wouldn't endanger you if I were unfit to fight," Jean reassured him.
"Where's your ring," he asked.
"I gave it to Frank."
"Jean-"
"He's keeping it for me, I don't want to lose it. Besides, we have to appear completely unremarkable being that we're on the run, don't we?"
"One thing you'll never be, Jeannie, is unremarkable," Logan spoke that gentle tone that made her heart ache.
"I know you're mad, Jean-" Logan, in reality, hadn't known she'd be this mad.
"Mad? Man doesn't even start to-" she pulled her arm away as Logan took hold of her.
"Jeannie," he pleaded for understanding as she rounded on him.
"We're decoys," she hissed.
"While they're watching us, the plans will be put into motion."
"We're decoys."
"It has to start somewhere," he reasoned.
"We're friggin' decoys."
Logan grabbed her by the arms and pulled her close enough for their noses to brush. "Keep sayin' it loud enough, and the whole plan will be shot to hell."
"I'm sorry," she murmured.
"You know I like a good fight, Jean. But while they're following one of Stryker's personal pet projects, I'm stuck."
She nodded her understanding, eyes bright with frustrated tears.
"Are you okay, did I grab you too hard?"
"I just want them to pay for what they did to us," she bit her lip.
"They will," he rubbed her back, kissing her forehead.
Jean stiffened, looking at Logan with wide eyes. Logan's only tell was his eyes, and only once did they ever say plainly what he kept hidden otherwise, so quickly Jean dismissed it as her own affection for the wildman from Canada. He had never done more than give her a hand up after a training session, holding a door open when they happened to be going in the same direction, laugh appreciatively at her retelling of a session...
"Jean, if something were to happen to me-" Scott persisted with a conversation Jean wanted no part of one night before bed.
"Scott, don't talk like that!"
"If it happens, find someone who loves you as much as I do."
"Who?"
"Like Logan. He treats you well."
"Logan, are you serious," Jean took off her robe, crawling under the covers with Scott.
"Well he's got to be a better choice than Warren Worthington the Third," Scott joked.
"Oh Slim, I love you...but this does not mean you get to be with Emma Frost. I will haunt your ass!"
"So what about Betsy?"
"Scott Summers!"
Jean came back to the present, her cheeks coloring as she looked at Logan in a new, frightening light.
"I...Jean, I..." Logan struggled with the right things to say to her. He always had.
Jean leaned in, kissing his cheek as her arms rested around his neck. "You understand me, sometimes better than I do myself. I forget that sometimes."
Logan had been sparing in his physical contact with her in the past weeks, once she had turned to him willingly at Frank's apartment, he knew he was done for. He was intensely loyal to her from the first day they met, vowing that even though he was far too late to gain her favor as a mate, he could accept being her teammate and true friend.
Now, he had forgotten his place and opened up a whole new set of problems other than keeping themselves alive. The phone buzzing in his jacket pocket startled them out of their embrace.
"Hello."
"Hello der, Logan."
"Gumbo, how is it in New Orleans?"
"I'm afraid we've worn out our welcome here, and Kitty wants to go to Piotr."
"We need you all safe, no matter what you decide. Talk to Jean, she's trying to rip my arm out of the socket," Logan handed the phone over.
"Remy..." she smiled and started to chatter on in partial French.
Jean then talked to Rogue and Kitty quickly, seeing that Logan was anxious to get to more pressing matters.
"Gumbo."
"Hold on der, what's goin' on between you two?"
"Once you're settled, we'll come see you," Logan glanced at Jean, who caught an edge of sharpness to his tone.
"Oui, obviously my skills are not rusty," the Cajun chuckled.
If Jean didn't know French, Logan would give Remy a few choice ones he knew in plenty of tongues.
"Call us soon."
"Oui. Take care."
Logan snapped the phone shut, pocketing it with muttered words.
"We're gonna have to move soon."
Jean nodded. She knew Frank was itching to be on his way as well. Logan pushed away from the wall, putting his arm around her waist as they walked back to Frank's apartment.
"Can something be done about the men following us?"
"That's high on the list," he smirked. "Jean..."
"Yes?"
"If I push you too hard...if you ever need some time to just get through things..."
"I'll push back. I promise."