Thank you to all the reviewers!

Edited and rewritten as of 30/10/12 (I know I'm being ever so slow and I apologise. I'm having trouble wrangling with my muse and enthusiasm for all things in general. But I am listening to a very random Beatles radio station online right now. My behind was kicked in gear when 'All You Need is Love' was played. Consider me signing up for writing duty again.)

Come Together

He say one and one and one is three
Got to be good looking
Cause he's so hard to see
Come together right now
Over me

- The Beatles

I've come to a startling conclusion fifty-two minutes into my brand spanking new career. Yes, I have, so please listen to me very carefully: I hate my job! It sucks big time and I'm officially a slave. I clean, I mop, and I'm an all-round destroyer of those evil dust bunnies. I also have to fend off drunks, beer breath and even worse, creepy guys who aren't named Logan keep offering me their cocks. They say they want to bump their marbles against my body and moan as they fuck me. Help me, I hate this job and I want Wolverine.

If I wasn't stupidly stubborn I would have thrown in the towel and told my boss exactly where he could shove his shitty excuse for a job ages ago, but then I remember Logan telling me he didn't want me working here. I can handle this, no seriously, I can. I know a certain knucklehead doesn't think a girl like me can work in a bar and I'd love to take the opportunity to shout at him because he's wrong. That hairy bastard is always wrong.

Somebody catches my wandering gaze and my brow is strangled with disapproval. I don't like this at all. "What are you doing here?" I groan, wiping down a table and wishing men were able to clean up after themselves.

"Just hear me out, Roguey," Jubilee begs. "I'm fucking sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry! Shit, look at me, I'm sorry. Don't you think I'm sorry? Well, I am!"

I roll my eyes and flick an onion ring on the floor. "I forgive you," is my answer, "You know I always forgive you. Next time I won't be this nice. I'm sick of being nice. Where's that ever gotten me, huh? Nobody wants a nice girl."

Jubilee pulls a face and steps closer. "That means you're not mad at me anymore, right?"

"I guess so," I sigh, sweeping a mountain of spilt pepper over the onion ring. "But there was me thinking I'd blown it when I told him he had small dick. The other night I was drunk and now what excuse do I have? He probably thinks I'm crazy. Heck, Jubes, he'll be packing his stupid duffle bag right now. I won't see Logan again."

I walk back to the bar with a tray of dirty glasses in my hands and Jubilee close at my side. "No, he loves you, Chica, you're meant to be together! Don't let the curious case of the small dick get in your way. We all know it's huge," she wails melodramatically. "Wolvie has a huge one. Come on and say it with me."

I give her a look. "You didn't see his face when he heard that speech, Jubes. And I don't want to talk about his you-know-what. It's dead to me."

Placing the glasses in a neat pile beside the sink, I lean against the bar. "It's over," I whisper. "He won't want me now and I don't want him. His sausage meat and dumplings have scattered in the night."

"Poppycock," Jubilee scoffs.

"You've seriously got to stop watching those English shows on cable," I tell her with a smile. "You sound like you're from Australia when you talk in that funny voice."

"I think it sounds tip-top," She grins. "And you'd best shut your trap, my old chum."

I snort at her terrible damn attempt at an accent and wrinkle my nose curiously. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be on a date?"

"I am on a date. Mel's waiting outside in the car. He's fantastic! Did you know he once worked for the FBI and the CIA? He even took a job as the President's bodyguard and he used George Bush's personal toilet. Mel left piddle all over the seat, too!"

I stare at her in amazement; please tell me she didn't fall for all that? I'm going to talk to Mel and threaten him with a Logan punch again. He can't get away with wrapping Jubilee up in bullshit.

"Uh-huh and what else did our emergency plumber tell you?" I ask her dubiously.

"Well, Mel's met the Queen, you know, the one in England, not a drag queen. He's played poker with Johnny Depp. He met Paul McCartney at JFK Airport and now they're really good friends. I'm not exactly sure who Paul McCartney is though." She shrugs. "But Mel said he likes to drink whiskey. I bet Wolvie would love him."

I sigh tiredly and twirl a loose strand of hair around my finger. "Look, Jubes, there's something I have to tell you about …" Suddenly my mouth gapes open and I squeak. "Fuck it, you have to help me!"

Jubilee is instantly on guard and ready to boot any bad guy in the balls with her forehead."What, what is it? Shit, is the Brotherhood here?"

"No!" I hiss, grabbing hold of her arm and dragging her to the restrooms. "What is he doing here? He can't do this to me! Not tonight."

"What the hell are you spitting about, Chica?" Jubes questions, as I lock the door behind us. "And this is the guys' restroom."

"Him, didn't you see? I haven't seen him since it happened," I grouse, kicking the door in frustration. "Why is he here? It's not like this is the only bar in New York."

"Is Mr. Hunk of Burning Love here?"

"No, it's not Logan," I whine in despair. I would have welcomed Logan's meat stick with an open mouth right now. "It's David. David."

"I've never met anybody called David. Who the hell calls their kid David?" She snorts, reapplying her lipstick in the cracked mirror.

I pout a little and lean against the door. "You would remember David if you accidently put him in a coma. Do you know who he is now? I told you all about him, Jubes."

She swings around to face me. "No way, it can't be! Is it Coma David?"

"Maybe," I whisper, wanting to bawl my eyes out until I'm blinded by escape plans.

"As in the David you had your first kiss with?" Jubilee asks, finally grasping the seriousness of the situation. "This isn't good, is it?"

"I can't let him see me. What if he tells my Mama and Daddy where I am?"

Holy crap, what am I going to do? No, don't panic, this is what my X-Men training has been leading up to. All I need to do is think clearly and breathe. I can't forget to breathe, that wouldn't be good. It wouldn't be good at all.

"I know," I cry, startling Jubilee. She yelps as she pokes herself in the eye with a mascara brush. But my eyes are wide as I point across the tiny room. "I need a window and there's one right there!"

She stares at me with one watery, bloodshot look and shakes her head. "You'll never fit through that, Rogue. You're crazy."

"Is that your way of saying I've put on tonnes of weight?" I gasp, hands resting on my hips.

"Well, you have put on some extra weight, girl" she says, matter-of-factly.

I instantly snap at my best friend. Yeah, I'm defensive about my weight, but what woman isn't? Next she'll be saying I look like a pale, chocolate elephant made and melted down in Mississippi. "I damn well haven't and I'll prove it to you!"

Oh, I'll show Jubilation Lee that Marie D'Ancanto can crawl out a tiny window in an even smaller bathroom when the guy she put in a coma is partying away in the bar she works in.

Hauling myself onto the sink, I balance unevenly on my knees with a nervous hiss. Heck, I need to channel the Rogue before I fall off the counter. I quickly unfasten the window latch and open it as far as I can.

"It's too small," Jubilee chimes in.

"And you're too negative," I scold instantly. "You need to help me, too. Push me up there and I can do the rest."

I stand up and take a deep breath. Jubilee places her hands on my backside and roughly shoves me up toward the tiny window. As I try to scramble through the space, I can't help wishing Logan's calloused hands were squeezing my ass cheeks. I like a good squeeze and I like Logan, too.

"No!" I whisper sharply, embarrassment shining bright in my eyes.

I can hear Jubilee giggling behind me. "What is it?" she asks, already knowing the answer.

"I've gained weight," I whimper, trying to wriggle loose. "I think I'm going to have to marry this window, too. Oh God, Jubes, I'm going to be stuck here forever!"

"Try again!" Jubilee calls, her cry echoing in the restroom.

"No!" I whine, glaring at the cold air surrounding me. "I swear I'm going to cry if you touch my ass again, Jubilee!"

"This is your fault, Rogue," she tells me. "I told you what would happen, didn't I? I told you and now everybody on facebook is going to know about this."

"If you post anything about this, I'm going to kill you," I growl, wanting to murder her already. This is all her fault. "And I'm not fat!"

"Yeah, yeah, tell that to the poor window," she teases.

"Will you do something? I'm going to be stuck here all night!"

"Don't sweat it, Chica, because your best friend has your back. Leave it all to me."

I gulp and start praying to God. Please smite this window for me. Please. I promise I'll start exercising again. And I don't even mean the dirty kind that involves me getting sweaty and naked with Wolverine.

"Yes, I can see the problem," Melvin says, patting my bottom.

I scowl as my best friend chatters away. If he touches me like that again I'll be the one head butting him in the balls. "So, can you help?" Jubilee asks him.

"I don't have any tools," he sighs, scratching his head.

"Tools," I gasp, desperate to free myself. "Why would you need tools? I'm not a naughty toilet or a leaking tap. I'm just a lady with a liking for southern fried chicken!"

They both ignore my argument and Jubilee talks over me. "You're a plumber aren't you? You deal with blockages in pipes all the time. Use your hands, Mel."

That's just great; my best friend is now describing me as a blockage. Is that how Logan sees me too? He probably ran because he didn't want me to block his love machine with my pouting pussy and wide birthing hips. I hate guys and they can all scurry off to hell!

"I don't deal with this type of blockage," he argues in a saintly voice. "I'm the plumber of the century, but good girls gone bad isn't my scene, Buttercup."

"Here's the deal, Melon Head. You get Roguey out of her tight spot and I'll make it worth your while."

"Jubilation Lee!" I shriek, kicking my feet to let her know even my legs think she's an idiot. "Put a leash on that self respect of yours!"

This is pointless. I'm going to die here with only a brick wall and a faint breeze for company. You see, even God doesn't care about my elephant hips hugging a window frame. Oh man, He's just blowing His bad breath in my face. If it starts to rain, I know He's tinkling on me with a teasing sparkle in his eye and I won't be happy. Heck, I'll never see Logan's slippery noodle again because I'm stuck here for the rest of my life. Damn it, I could cry a river and flood the planet because I want to see it up close just one more time.

"Get your hands off my ass!" I screech, trying to catch the perverted Mel with my shoe.

"I think it's time to bring in the big guns," I hear Jubilee sigh.

That's it, my life is over. Now a sexy, shirtless fireman is going to knock the building down to free me and I'll be flung all over the news tonight and tomorrow morning.

I'm dead. I've officially died of embarrassment. Yeah, perhaps it was a painful death, but don't worry, I'm now at peace now and cuddling a cock that looks suspiciously like Wolverine's woody. No, I'm kidding. It was a nice thought though.

"Why the hell was she climbin' out the damn window anyway?" Logan demands to know and his words really don't have a spring in their step. I wouldn't be jumping for joy either if my ass was dragged out of bed to deal with this shit.

Jubilee scoffs. "Wolvie, hello, you're missing the point, dude! Your girl is making love to the window instead of you."

"I'm not his girl!" I splutter, adding my two cents. Wait a minute; I shouldn't be arguing that point. I need to crush her other comment like Juggernaut greeting a bed of daffodils. "Jubes, my hips aren't even moving, shut up!"

"You're my best friend, Chica, and I know when you're talking crap. Go on, admit it, you wanna ride Wolvie in a roller coaster kind of way: rough, loads of squealing and you'll probably puke at the end. Everybody knows you could attach a flag to his pole and he wouldn't bite your tits off if you tried."

I swear somebody needs to call 911. My cheeks are on fire. "Jubilee, I hate you!"

"No you don't," she grins, poking my butt.

I grit my teeth and huff. "I hate you!"

"No, you don't."

"I hate you, Jubilation Lee! I wish that gum of yours would wrap around your tonsils and choke you to death!"

She pokes me and pokes me and pokes me. "That's a mean thing to yell when you know you love me, Roguey. I'm the only girl who's ever seen your tits. Remember when we flashed—"

"Uh, Butternuts, cool conversation, but can't it wait?" Melvin the Pervert slides in to our well slicked argument.

Wolverine grumbles to himself and my worried ears catch a sound that fills me with a wave of dread. Snikt. "Move your ass, Bub. I ain't in a patient way of thinkin' tonight. Move it or lose it. And I ain't playin'," he growls at Mel.

His boots stop close to my right side and I panic. "Logan, don't you dare," I tell him, my legs flailing. "You know I hate it when you treat my body like beef jerky!"

He snorts. "And you," he grunts, squeezing my ass, "can calm the hell down. I know what I'm doin' here."

"Don't tell me to calm down," I order, working myself into a slight frenzy.

Although that hand of his cupping and cuddling up to my ass cheek is magical. I know what Samantha Stevens and Sabrina the Teenage Witch felt like. It's amazing to have magic and mystery flowing through your veins. My flight of magical silliness is only caused by Logan, but whatever, I still stand by my thoughts.

That razor sharp claw of his tears through the fabric of my shirt and I gasp. "You owe me a new top," I mutter, as he hauls me out the window with his calloused hands gripping my mile-wide hips. He gives me a look and I sigh. "And thanks."

"You're welcome," he replies gruffly, setting me down and tugging loosely at the bottom of my frayed shirt. "You were snagged on a splinter. Good to know your trainin' didn't go to waste, Darlin'."

My eyes dart to Jubilee and I glare at her. "I thought I was stuck," I mumble, wishing the ground would swallow me whole.

My giddy and grinning best friend drags her plumber away and leaves me alone with Logan. I don't know what to say. Every time I've opened my mouth, done something or even tried to escape, I smash my feet through the world of embarrassment and beyond.

I glance at Logan and watch him watching me. My thoughts are tumbling and I don't want this 'you like my cock' conversation tonight. Actually, I never, ever want him to mention the last few days again.

Vaguely thinking over my options, I pick the easiest, and I run.

Panting and puffing, I hide down an alleyway and almost hug the brick wall in relief. I've lost Logan, I've probably lost my job and I don't care. Hell, why did I run? My Mama was right about me; I make everything worse.

Somebody clearing their throat startles me and I turn around. How did he …? Oh yeah, I'm stupid, he used his powers to track me down.

"Glad to see all that runnin' I made you do when I was trainin' ya weren't for nothin'," Logan snorts, a cigar dangling from his lips.

"Do you know how fucking annoying you are, Logan?" I hiss, kicking the wall and storming away from the alley. I thought it was the perfect hiding place, too. "I can never beat you! You're always in my head, you're always in my face and I hate you for it!"

He sighs heavily and stalks after me. "Hell, Marie –"

"No, listen to me for once," I order him, stopping on the sidewalk and inhaling the stench of cigar smoke. "I can't be around you without coming out with the most ridiculous stuff. Do you know what that's like, Logan? It never happens when I'm with other folks. Every single time I talk to you and say something really dumb you smirk and shake your head. You're even looking at me strangely now!"

Why is he staring like that? I'm pouring out my broken, beating, brazen, blasted heart and he's having merry fun with my chest.

I follow his gaze and blush. "See, this is what I'm talking about. Now I don't even need to talk to embarrass myself. My nipples are hard and it's your fault. Are you proud of yourself, Wolverine? You make my nipples hard! Look at them, they're standing to attention like… like soldiers about to go into battle and I can't make them stay in formation. Look, I've even talking like an army guy now!"

Out of nowhere, Logan drags me roughly into his arms and his lips crash against mine. His tongue fights for dominance while mine prances and dances about.

"You wanna take this somewhere more private?" Logan mutters huskily in my ear, abandoning my lips long enough to nip at my ear lobe.

A groan saddles my tongue and kicks off in the dust of pleasure. He doesn't need to ask and he knows it.

I throw myself into the passenger seat of Logan's truck and refuse to keep my excitement under wraps. Christ, I'm fidgeting like crazy. I'm sexually frustrated and the time has come to vanquish the 'I want Logan!' calls coming from my pussy.

Logan slides into the seat beside me and frowns. "Thought you'd taken that shitty job I didn't want you doin'?"

Blinking at him, I throw my hands up. "I've quit it! I quit my job for you, Logan. You want to kiss me again, right? You need to kiss me because I threw the towel in and tried to climb out a window. And it was all for you."

He shakes his head. "Sure you did," he says, tapping his nose. "What I wanna know is why the hell were you climbin' outta the window in the first place?"

There's no way on this earth I'm letting Logan question me tonight. Trust me, if I did that, I'd never be laid and he'd want to chat about why the hell Coma David is here and why I ran. I want to avoid that, so I carefully clamber over to him and straddle his lap.

"Eep," I squeak, almost impaling myself on the gear stick. Okay, I really do want to be impaled by something tonight, but I'm desperate for Logan's elephant trunk, not one of his car parts.

He cocks an eyebrow and I almost wet my panties. "I don't want to wait," I whisper to him, caressing his flannel shirt. "Can't you see I want it hard?" I add, snapping my eyes closed as I chase the blush away.

"Christ, Darlin'," Logan chuckles, tracing his hands down the small of my back. "You're eager for it, ain't ya."

I suddenly feel extremely observant and a bulge oozes and floods Logan's special area. "I'm glad I didn't break it," I smile, my lips brushing against his.

Logan grapples for the button at the side of his seat and smirks as the chair flops backwards. "You really wanna do this here?" he asks, his hands migrating to the belt hugging my jeans to my waist.

"Uh-huh," I reply instantly, yanking my shirt off and with the flick of the wrist, I drop it to his feet. "I want to do this here."

His darkened eyes feast on my breasts squeezed into a bra that's one size too small for me and his hands creep toward the clasp keeping everything under control.

"You real sure about this, Marie? 'Cause once it's off, I ain't holdin' back. I wanna show you what it feels like to be mine."

Gulping as if I'm attempting to stifle and calm a firework in my throat, I nod. I'm completely sure. If you saw me right now, you would know you've never seen anybody as sure as I am, because I'm very sure, hugely sure and I'll always be sure. I will even name our first baby Sure.

He smirks and tweaks a nipple. "Just checkin' it ain't gonna fall off before I get started."

"You heard that?" I blush, thinking back to the day when the baseball hit me and I almost cried tears of mourning.

"Why'd you think I made those punks run twenty laps, huh?"

"You're evil, you know that, right? I bet you're even worse than the Child Catcher," I tease, pecking a kiss to his lips. "And you taste like cigars. I bet the Child Catcher never smoked."

"I'd rest that voice of yours, Marie, 'cause you're gonna need it," Logan growls lowly, bumping his bulge against me.

A sudden and harsh knock on the window makes me squeal. I quickly dive for my shirt as Logan snarls and waits for me to cover my tingling modesty. When I've tugged the shirt over my head and pouted, he growls deeply and winds down the window down.

"Can I help you, Bub?" he says with a crackling growl.

"Step out of the vehicle, Sir," a cop orders Logan, eyeing us both with contempt. "And I need to see your license and registration."

Why is this happening to me? You just wait until I come face-to-face with God! "No, he can't. We're busy!" I tell the cop. "We. Are. Busy. I want to be busy!"

"Marie –"

"Shut up, Logan," I snap tearfully, glaring at the flatfoot with the unattractive buzz cut. "All I wanted to do tonight was have sex. Have you any idea how long I've been waiting for this to happen? And you, Mister-Oh-I'm-a-Cop-Check-Out-My-Shiny-Gun-and-Badge, have ruined a perfect opportunity for me to get laid! We're not criminals; Logan hasn't hurt anybody in a really long time, so leave us alone."

"Jesus Christ," Logan mutters, dragging a hand over his face. He flicks his cigar out the open window and settles me back in my seat.

I feel quite pleased with myself and wait for the cop to reply. But when he does, I don't receive the answer I was waiting for.

"I need you to step out of the vehicle as well, Ma'am. Have you taken any narcotics tonight?"

My face falls and I shake my head. "Do I sound like I'm on drugs?"

Nobody answers.