I waited outside the med lab, thinking. There was a lot to think about, too. Those weird questions of Nightcrawler's this morning. Mystique. Gambit. Mystique. Rogue. And Mystique again.

Well, I had to start with Mystique. She made everything strange by just being here to begin with. I ended up feeling sorry for her, especially after that day I saved her life by noticing her fever needed to be reduced. Then, too, I felt a little guilty about laughing when she had her fever dreams. Damn Rogue anyway.

Hey. I have a conscience.

So when I got a chance, I went to apologize and Kurt had to tell me even more about what she'd suffered. She woke up, of course. But I came to apologize, so I was gonna do it anyway. I don't back down from doin' what I promise.

I just kept goin' back to see her, first just a couple of times, then pretty regular. It felt different, but right. We'd laugh and talk about all sorts of things. I never expected to, but I felt more relaxed around her. Better. My instincts told me it was right to be with her. I found myself thinking about her at odd times during the day, too.

Then the elf had to ask what was going on. I felt kinda uneasy, because I realized afterward I didn't really know. The way I felt was just the way I felt, nothin' more. And as for what was going on in Mystique's blue head, I don't think anyone knows.

I didn't bother staying after the kids found us together. They weren't paying any attention to me, anyhow, other than Gambit, who seemed to find us amusing.

Huh. I guess we kinda are, at that.

Speak of the devil. Remy and Rogue came down the hall toward me, holding hands. Cute. They both noticed me this time. The Cajun's eyes shone with amusement, and Rogue just looked worried. He greeted me and she stopped, dropping his hand. "Chere?" he asked.

She smiled a little. "Go on. I'll catch up later." He shrugged, turned, and walked off whistling. Cocky bastard.

What? There's nothing wrong with being a cocky bastard.

I lit a cigar, and her nose wrinkled, but she didn't say anything about it. "Logan?"

I waited. She didn't say anything, just stared at me. "What?" I growled, finally. I've never been patient with people who can't be direct with me about what they want.

She licked her lips. "I love her. You know that." I nodded. She continued. "You've been a good friend, too. I just … I worry about her. She's been through so much these past months, and …"

Great. She really thinks I do torture puppies. "Look, kid. I'm only gonna tell you this once. I'm not out to hurt Mystique. All things considered, she really is not so bad. Okay? Plus, while I ain't a doctor, I know she's not up to playing ping-pong yet. I wouldn't ask her to until someone who is says she is. Got it?"

She blushed a little and looked embarrassed as I talked, then threw herself against my body. Luckily, I caught myself on the wall, so I didn't fall over backward, and put my arms around her briefly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've just been worried for so long."

"I know, darlin'. I know. That's why you're not splattered against the wall." I mock-growled and shook my fist. She giggled.

Of course, that had to be the first thing the elf saw when he came down the hall, and he tensed up. "What are you doing now, Wolverine?" He sounded really pissed. I snorted. Great. Just what I need, more misunderstanding.

Rogue giggled again. "Oh, back off, Kurt. We were just havin' a little fun, sugar." She walked away, and the elf approached me, but stayed out of claw range.

"Wolverine?" He watched me warily. He was in a standard combat stance, well-balanced, ready for action. I took a good puff from my cigar and then put it out. No point keeping it lit now.

"Nightcrawler?" He was the one picking this fight. Let him do the talking.

"What do you intend to do with my mother?" Trust Kurt to go with the bad movie dialogue when the chips were down. I decided to answer his question as if he'd been serious.

"Nothin'." What? It was true. I had no intentions, because right now I had no plans and I had no idea what the hell Mystique wanted, either.

"That's not what I saw in there." He started moving to one side, testing my defenses. I let him. I knew he couldn't take me unarmed. Even armed he'd have problems. How many times had we gone on "hunting parties" together? And how many cases of beer did he still owe me from the times he'd lost?

"Really." I put my cigar butt in my shirt pocket. "Then why don't you tell me, elf, seein' as you're the one pretending to be the telepath here."

Fury flashed across his face, and he was three inches from me, grabbing my shirt collar. "Stay away from my mother, Wolverine. She does not need to be hurt by you, and I won't let you toy with her."

I breathed out slowly and decided to challenge him a little. "What if it's not a game, Nightcrawler?"

Surprised, he released my shirt and backed up a step. I watched him. Certainty replaced doubt, and he sneered, "It must be. You do not truly care for her."

I pushed it another step. "Do I care about Jubilee?" He blinked and frowned suspiciously. Another step. "Do I care for Kitty?" He was slowly getting it, but I kicked it up a notch. "Did I care for Jean?"

He wasn't looking at me now. Puzzled and worried, he tensed and relaxed, thinking. "But you can't. She's … Mystique. She's my mother."

I coughed so I wouldn't laugh. "Elf, believe it or not, being a mother doesn't rule anyone out. Now, I'm not sayin' anything more. Good night." I moved past him, and he grabbed my arm.

"Logan?" His eyes searched my face. I stopped and looked at him. His hand dropped to his side, and his shoulders relaxed, but he didn't look happy. "Be careful."

"Always." I headed to Mystique's room, and this time he let me. What if it wasn't a game? Turning the knob, I realized that it wasn't any more, if it ever had been.