A VOICE (offstage): Oh my god! It's still alive!!! Kill it, kill it!!!

There is a loud THWACK. Jubilee strides in only a moment later, pausing to scrape something off her shoe. She stops, bewildered by the bright light.

JUBILEE: Oh my god! It IS still alive! Well, what can I say? Zelda doesn't own the X-men, nor does she appear to own a dictionary with the word "Cliffhanger" properly defined.

ZELDA: I could send you back, you know.

KINCAID materializes out of the dark.

KINCAID: Just like you were able to get rid of me? He rolls his eyes.

Ju: Please note, graphic stuff (yes, even *more* graphic) lies ahead.

K: She means sex, boys and girls!! (Or boys and boys, as the case may be ...)

Z: (whispering) For those of you who may not remember, we last saw a mentally unstable Melusine holding a knife at Logan's throat ...

PART NINE : X-POSED 2

A little drop of blood oozed out around the pointed tip of her dagger. Melusine hissed in frustration as she felt the wound closing itself. Logan lay growling beneath her, unaware that the force holding him in place was nothing more than his body's recollection of Magneto's power.

"Melusine," he gritted through clenched teeth, "you don't need to do this. What happened to you before, that wasn't your fault. You were coerced. This isn't you. Let us help you." Her eyes glittered in the half-light.

"Isn't it?" she muttered, leaning a little harder on the knife. She opened her shields, casting from side to side. "How do you know this isn't who I really am, Charles?" she spat triumphantly, as she traced the link he'd made with Logan.

"You were forced, manipulated," Xavier whispered in Logan's voice.

Melusine laughed bitterly. "Wrong. No one can make anyone do anything. You ought to know that." She tweaked the link, breaking the tenuous connection, funneling Logan's own pain back to the Professor. She disrupted things further by slamming her shields closed, surrounding herself and Logan with the strongest psychic walls she could construct.

"Mel," gasped Logan, straining to move something, anything. The smell of blood was in his nostrils; he couldn't tell how much from the tiny wound on his neck and how much Xavier had left behind him, from Melusine's memories. He could feel her trembling and he increased his attempts to get free. He could take her in a second if only he could move. "You heard what Xavier said. This isn't you."

"You know nothing! Not even a telepath can make someone do something completely against their will." She lashed out with the finest of mental filaments at a very specific target. Lost in concentration, she never saw the hazel eyes of her captive widen. "Do you see?" she began.

Logan felt every drop of aggression drain out of his extremities and pool in his groin. "Oh my," Melusine breathed as the change became apparent. She sat up, her own eyes round as saucers. "How long has it been?" she queried, her lips curving upwards as the answer sprung to his forebrain. "That long?" She leaned forward, weapon forgotten, until her face was only inches from his, her hair falling forward to surround him with her scent. He inhaled, and a second stab of pure lust made his condition even more acute.

"Pauvre," she scorned softly, her fascinated eyes registering every change desire made to his features. "Whatever shall you do?" A low-pitched warning rumbled in his chest. Mon Dieu, but she liked this game! Bracing her arms on his chest, she slowly drew her pelvis up the length of the erection pressing into her through his jeans. Logan closed his eyes, gasping slightly at the sensation; her own breathing quickened in response. His jaw set as his eyes reopened. "Bitch," he said, and she smiled.

"Now, now," she scolded, pushing herself upright. "Do you really mean that?" She rotated her hips slowly. Logan couldn't suppress his groan as he felt the hot, damp proof of her own desire. Oh, she was a first-class bitch, he had no more doubts about that, and just as soon as he could distract her enough he would ... His thoughts trailed off as she undid another button on her blouse, then another.

She pulled the garment back to reveal her bare breasts, peeled it down her arms, stripped off the sheaths where her deadly daggers had hidden. Spring sunlight danced down into the glade, highlighting first a creamy swell, then a pert rosy nipple. Picking up her discarded dagger from the ground, she placed it at his navel. He tensed in sudden fear.

"Shh," she soothed, then ran the knife in a smooth motion up his chest, splitting his tee-shirt in two. "Better," she sighed, running her hands through his abundant chest hair. "Much better," she confirmed, leaning forward again. It seemed like forever before her nipples brushed his chest and they finally lay bare flesh to bare flesh. "Now," she exhaled, her mouth millimeters from his own, fingers gently skimming his forehead and caressing his cheek, "if I were to release you, would you promise to be bad?"

With an enormous effort of will, he closed the gap between her lips and his, kissing her brutally, equal parts punishment and promise. She melted into him, a sob of pleasure deep in her throat, and loosened the illusion that held him immobile, keeping a light link open as a precaution. Logan's hands, free to move of their own accord, slid up her back. One caught at the nape of her neck, pressing her closer to him. The kiss continued, no quarter asked, none given. Melusine could hardly breathe, could hardly think. It was exactly what she had wanted.

Logan's hands moved down to her ass; through the link she caught his frustration at finding her still partially clothed. Breaking the kiss, she slid a hand down between their bodies, unfastened the waistband of her pants, pulled down the zipper. His hands tugged impatiently at the stretchy fabric. "Patience," she scolded, tilting upright and throwing her legs forward. With a tiny bounce she stripped completely, and in a heartbeat she was back on Logan's chest.

The tang off her pants as they flew by his head goaded him into action. He flipped them over, pinning Melusine beneath him. See how you like it, he thought. She answered him with another kiss, searing as the first, her hips arching upwards to meet his. Again Logan's frustration pushed at her mind, though this time at his own non-nudity. Scowling fiercely, he tore off the offending garments; she whimpered as cool air washed across her abdomen. He thudded back on top of her, claimed her lips for another passionate kiss. And hotter even than his skin was the length of his hardness, pressing into her thigh, pressing between her thighs, searching out her own hot wetness. The tip of his erection slid down her labia, coming to rest just at her entrance. Pulling back to search her face, he stopped there. Now the frustration was all hers. And in that very moment, she nearly lost everything.

"It's always been too late, Melusine." Nasyd rose from the corpse of her sister, from the corpse of her sister's murderer, from the corpse of Joshua Doors. He rose, and she was his. Panic gripped Melusine; she tried not to let it out, but somehow Logan sensed the change. She could feel the question forming in his mind, and knew she had to stop it. Now was what she needed -- the purity of being in this moment and no other. It was the only way to hold the darkness back, to chain it until she could deal with it. She couldn't let him stop. "Logan," she whispered, as her right palm touched his temple and the link between them opened wide.

"Logan" she'd whispered. It was the last clear thing they remembered before their world had become pure sensation. Desire pulsed between them, calling both: the aching void that demanded to be filled; the burning fire that begged to be quenched. They could not be separated, could not be distinguished. What one felt was shared by the other. Wonder at the exchange was soon forgotten in the urge for completion, apprehension about the consequences disappeared in the need for absolute, intense pleasure. They stalked climax with ruthless efficiency and were transfixed.

***

Wow.

Melusine, sweaty and satisfied beyond complaint, heaved a sigh as Logan recovered enough to roll off her. "That takes the edge off," she continued aloud.

"That mean you ain't gonna kill me?" he asked dryly. Then, before he even had time to consider the action, he gently rapped her behind the ear with his fist. "Guess not," he said to Melusine's unconscious body.

Unconscious, naked body, he suddenly realized. Oh, sure, what a great idea-sneak up on her before she could pry out what you're thinking. He visualized returned to the mansion with a naked Melusine over his shoulder. Don't even want to imagine Jeannie's face when I drag her in.

Logan? He groaned, frantically trying to cover up his most recent thoughts. Think of the devil... Jean's mental voice was faintly amused, but mostly worried. Are you alright? The Professor and I couldn't find you -- have you had any success locating Melusine?

The scowl he directed towards a nearby pine would have been a harbinger of fiery death, had he been Cyclops. Logan?

"Yeah, I found her," he said. "She's fine. We're both fine. Fantastic. Should be back home in about half an hour. How's Chuck?"

Hank says it's not as bad as it looked. He's given him something for the pain; that's why I'm contacting you. But once Melusine is back, she should be able to take care of it.

"Damn straight."

Jean sighed at the anger and absolute resolve Logan put into those two words. Be good, she admonished. The fleeting image of his unrepentant grin was the last thing she got from him.

"Fantastic," he muttered, turning his attention back to the nude blonde in the clearing. "Abso-fuckin-lutely fantastic."

***

Twenty-eight minutes later, Logan came to a halt at the edge of the forest, Melusine slung over one shoulder. He'd managed to get most of her clothes back on, but he hadn't found any shoes, though he distinctly remembered the impact they'd made with his chest. A muffled grunt from behind him alerted him to Melusine's return to consciousness. She began to struggle weakly as he dumped her to the ground.

"Hey!" she protested, only to be immobilized by the unnerving sight of three huge metal claws bursting from Logan's clenched fist and coming to a stop a hair's breadth from her face.

"Now this is the way we're gonna play it," he snarled menacingly. "We're going back to the mansion, and you're gonna fix up the Professor. No tricks. Understand?"

"The Professor?" Her momentary bemusement was swept away in the dark wave of recollection. "Xavier!" Her knife in his chest. "Is he...?"

Logan maintained a watchful distance as Melusine struggled to her feet. "He's not dead. But Hank says Chuck could use a dose of your gentle healing powers." She winced as the wave of sarcasm made its impact. "And if you try anything, you'd better believe that the next time, you won't be getting such a long look at the claws." "I understand," she nodded. He retracted them, the gaping hole each had carved in his skin healing instantly.

"Which way?" she asked, completely unsure of their location. He pointed to his left; she waited a moment. "Oh, no, after you," he smirked, and they set off, Melusine leading. Her head ached, especially the goose-egg she was growing behind her ear. He hit me! Her initial dismay was complicated by grudging admiration. It had solved his problem, after all. But her self-repair would have to wait; it would be better to save her strength until she had done what she could for Xavier.

Because she had to believe she wasn't going to be too late.

END OF PART NINE

JUBILEE: And thar she blows!

KINCAID: I think that says it all, don't you?

ZELDA: Okay, when the imaginary people start dissing you ... you know you need reviews! This chapter ends our special order of angst, and we now return you to your regular programming. Thanks for reading!!