Disclamer- I don't own Jean Grey or Logan....though I sure wish I did. This mostly movie verse, so I don't own Famke Janssen or Hugh Jackman either! *sigh* I sure wish I did though...God only knows the kinky stuff I would do with them, a video camera, and an okay by the producers of X-Men/X2 to direct X3...:) '

NOTE: First time I posted this, some things got screwed up so I'm having another go. Hopefully it will work.. Be patient, this IS the first story I've ever posted. :) R/R please!



Jean whipped off the pair of sunglasses that had been perched on top of her head, and returned them to their real use: to shade her sun-scorched eyes and make for a sexy accessory. Warm, rough, and thoroughly pleasant air rushed at her face and tousled the roots of her fiery hair, shimmering with golden highlights from the blazing sun. She stretched her neck and leaned her head back against the sleek leather headrest of the seat she was lounging in. Closing her large emerald eyes, she smiled and moaned. This felt so good...

Suddenly Logan's voice coming a few inches to the left, from the drivers seat, filled her ears.

"I told you that this was going to be the most relaxing day you've had in years, Jeanie..." he mused. His voice was like ecstasy for her senses, and she responded with another long moan of pleasure.

They were speeding down a long and straight back road, abandoned at this time of day, and surrounding them were endless miles that stretched in every direction of burnt-orange sand and high, Indian-red plateaus in the distance. There was the occasional sagebrush and intensely green cactus alongside the road, but other than that completely barren and desolate. The fireball sun burned high in the clear, orange-tinged, cloudless expanse of desert sky, overseeing all of this.
Seated comfortably and relaxed in a sleek, shockingly red sports convertible, Jean and Logan sped along this Californian road that seemed to go on forever...

"How 'bout some music?" Logan asked, one hand expertly gripping the leather steering wheel while the other wandered the dashboard controls. Jean laughed and smiled broadly, but made no other response.

There was a moment of silence filled only with the calming sound of rushing wind flying past them rapidly and the energizing zoom of the convertible covering yards of dirt road per second, before Logan had the radio on and turned to a station of his liking. A beat pulsed through the large speakers at the back of the car and made the doors, seats and dash thump with it. Jean could feel her chair vibrating with the excellent bass and giggled at the sensation. Suddenly the beat broke out into an explosion of drums and electric guitars, along with 80's style yelled lyrics.

Take me down to Paradise City
Where the grass is green and the girls are pretty
Oh, won't you please take me home...

Take me down to Paradise City
Where the grass is green and the girls are pretty
Oh, won't you please take me home

Jean laughed out loud as she looked to Logan who was strumming away at his own electric guitar in mid-air, abandoning his driving duties, the wind rushing wildly through his thick, dark hair and his jet black over shirt billowing back and revealing his toned muscles under the fitted white tank top...it gave Jean the impression of a true wannabe Axl Rose. Logan turned and smiled a rugged, wolf-like smile at Jean, a sight she craved for every day, and he sang at the top of his lungs, "TAKE ME DOWN TO THE PARADISE CITY, WHERE THE GRASS IS GREEN AND THE GIRLS ARE PRETTY! TAKE, ME, HOME!" He substituted the steering wheel for a drum set now as he pounded it with his coarse palms in a steady and hard beat. He was being silly and he knew it, but anything to hear the enchanting sound of Jean's laughter, to see those delicious lips curve into a seductive smile.

"You know what you're doing to me, don't you?" Jean yelled to him over the pulsing music, smiling sweetly, her hair blowing across her face in the harsh wind.

Logan grinned back at her wickedly, assuring her he knew how badly she wanted him right then, but also assuring her he felt the same with a flick of his eyes to her lips, then running a tongue briefly along his own. As if they needed to trade looks to acknowledge how they felt about one another...
Logan continued to pound away at the steering wheel as Jean sighed desperately, grinning widely, and looked out her side of the car to the wide expanse of beautiful and desolate desert scenery, shaking her head to let the wind billow her hair out behind her.