A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I posted! Lab work got a little backed up and then I was away from my wonderful computer for the holiday weekend. D'oh! Anyways, here's part 6…I've made the first part a little darker to try to put Logan into character a little bit more. Hope y'all like it!

Disclaimer: Please don't sue this poor college student for playing with some of the best characters ever created in the Marvel universe…

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Part 6: It's a Little Bit Funny, This Feeling Inside…

          Three days passed by and Ororo had been avoiding Logan like the plague. Of course, he had been the first to notice when she would leave a room as soon as he entered it. And, truth be told, it broke his heart. He tried to hide that, but it soon became evident to his teammates that something wasn't right. Normally, he was sarcastic to the point of being flat-out mean when something was bothering him. This time he was almost sulking and staying in his room most of the time.

          "Mein freund?" Kurt called as he knocked on Logan's door. "Logan?"

          When he didn't receive an answer, Kurt slowly turned the knob and peered in. The lights were off but the moonlight was streaming in his windows. Kurt closed the door behind him and blinked a few times to adjust to the change in light. He quickly noticed a trail of incense smoke that could be seen from the dresser. Still standing close to the door, Kurt began looking around the room. He quickly noticed most of the pictures were turned facedown, except for the one of Mariko that he rarely touched except to clean it. He almost thought Logan had left when he suddenly spoke.

          "Hey Kurt."

          Kurt jumped up to the ceiling at Logan's voice and quickly craned his neck to see his friend sitting in his reading chair, facing the window.

          "You scared me half to death, Logan!" Kurt complained as he gracefully fell from the ceiling. He easily balanced on the headboard of Logan's bed and tried to see his friend's face, but with no luck.

          "Sorry." Was the simple reply.

          "Logan, please, tell me vas happened?" The blue-furred demon pleaded. "You haven't been yourself for days now."

          Then the scent of strong whiskey floated to Kurt's nostrils and he noticed at least five large empty bottles at Logan's feet. The sound of liquid splashing in a bottle caught his attention and he watched Logan drink from the bottle for almost a minute. It came down and rested on his thigh, his hand protectively holding the bottleneck.

          "I kissed her." He said flatly. Before Kurt could reply, Logan drank another large portion of the whiskey. "An' now she ain't talkin' t'me."

          "Have you tried talking to her?" Kurt carefully asked. He watched as Logan finished the bottle and pulled out yet another full bottle of the golden whiskey from a box next to his leg.

          "She won't let me even come close t'her." He explained. A cap fell to the floor and the bottle reached his lips. That time Kurt could've sworn he drank more than half of the handle of whiskey.

          "Logan, how much of that cheap whiskey have you drank?"

          "Not enough."

          "I'm counting six bottles."

          "Seven." Logan replied, holding up his current bottle.

          "Ja. Seven."

          "A healin' factor can put a damper on gettin' drunk."

          "Then perhaps you shouldn't try?"

          Logan looked at Kurt for the first time since he had entered the room. Kurt felt his heart fill with anguish at the sight of his friend. Logan's eyes were extremely bloodshot and his face looked haggard. He looked as if he hadn't slept in the past few days. He frowned at his friend's remark and his brow furrowed in concentration. It looked as if he was trying to find the right words to say, the words that would make Kurt see how much it hurt to be sober, but he couldn't find anything to say. After a minute or so, he decided it would take too much time and he drank from the bottle again.

          Kurt dropped his head, knowing that this was a losing battle after years of experience. When Mariko died, Kurt didn't know how to help his friend when he found him surrounded by Lord-knows how many bottles. In the end, he had just kept Logan company and had helped him to bed when he couldn't walk anymore.

          "Get out." Logan said, turning from his friend.

          "Logan?"

          "You deaf, pal?" He growled. "Get out."

          Kurt winced and flipped from the headboard.

          "I'll be in my room if you need me, mein freund."

          "Whatever. Just get the fuck out. Now."

          In a burst of smoke and brimstone, Kurt Wagner was gone and Logan finished the bottle in his hand.

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          "Ororo, you're acting like a child."

          "Please, not now, Kurt."

          "Nien. I've already been thrown out of Logan's room. I'm not leaving another."

          Ororo Munroe pinched the bridge of her nose, praying that her sudden headache would disappear. They were in the loft and she was carefully pruning a few of her hanging plants.

          "Talk to him."

          "I can't."

          "Yes, you can!" Kurt replied, flustered. "He's going to leave soon if you don't. We've both seen him like this!"

          Ororo hung her head and tried to focus on her headache instead of Kurt's words.

          "Ororo, you must speak with him." Kurt said matter-of-factly. "You're a strong woman and very intelligent. Think about what you've done to him over these past three days and do the right thing. Talk to him, even if it's for no other reason than to maintain your dignity."

          With that, Ororo heard the familiar *bamf* and Kurt was gone.

          "He's right, y'know." Said a feminine voice in her mind.

          "Yes, I know, Jean."

          "Do the right thing. Besides, you've got a concert to go to in two days. It'll be mighty awkward if you keep ignoring him."

          "Funny."

          Jean's presence faded from her mind quickly and Ororo was again left alone with her thoughts. She had tried to avoid Logan since…since that morning. But just seeing a glimpse of him brought back the memories of that kiss.

          That damned kiss.

          The kiss that was quite possibly the most passionate and enlivening kiss she had ever experienced. And it had only lasted for mere seconds. Goddess, how she had wanted it to last forever and a day! If he could kiss like that, then what else could that wild man do? Ororo chided herself for such thoughts, but her mind kept drifting back to them.

          Damned hormones.

          After debating with herself for another twenty minutes, Ororo finally pulled on her robe and walked down the attic stairs. It was close to midnight now but she was sure he would be up. After all, he was almost always awake until at least two.

          At his door, she didn't bother knocking. Instead, she opened the door briskly and walked into the darkened room. As she closed the door, her eyes quickly adjusted and she saw him passed out on his bed. She also saw many empty bottles strewn about him on the bed and floor. Guilt pained her heart and she quickly picked them up.

          Against her better judgment, Ororo touched Logan's shoulder gently.

          "Logan?"

          To be honest, Ororo never knew was hit her, he moved so fast. She was sprawled on the floor in the next instant and, within two seconds, a very angry Logan was pinning her to the rug. An inhuman growl escaped from his lips and his claws shot out of his arm, the metal glinting in the moonlight. Without thinking, Ororo summoned a gale force wind and he was suddenly on the other side of the room, confused.

          "'Ro?" He asked, blinking.

          "Yes, Logan, and I do not appreciate being tackled!" She replied.

          "Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry, darlin'." He replied, standing up. "Are ya ok?"

          "Yes, I'm fine, Logan." She sighed. "I wanted to come here to apologize for the foolish way I have been acting these past few days."

          "Apology accepted." He extended a hand to help her up.

          As he pulled her to her feet, Ororo fought the urge to tackle him onto the bed.

          "I did not mean to hurt you." She said softly.

          Logan nodded and turned towards the bathroom. As he tended to his business, Ororo lit a Japanese lamp and a soft glow filled the room. She continued to pick up the empty bottles until he walked out of the bathroom with a refreshed look to his face.

          "So why've you been runnin' from me?" Logan asked, holding out a trash bag for the weather goddess.

          Ororo Munroe looked at her old friend and felt as if a huge weight was holding her down. Deep down, she knew why she had avoided him. Ororo was at least honest with herself with such matters, even if she couldn't admit it to other people. Hell, it had taken her goddess-knows how long to tell Forge how much she loved him. And now, here she was, deeply in love with one of her best friends. She felt as if she could burst from the tension that was building within her whenever he was around. Dare she hope that he felt the same way? Would she let herself think such a thing?

          "Well?"

          His gravely voice cut through her concentration and she blinked, focusing her eyes on him once again.

          "Can we sit?"

          "Sure." Logan replied, sitting in his chair as she sat on the edge of his bed.

          "This is very hard for me to discuss, old friend."

          Logan waited, thinking she was about to shoot him down, tell him she didn't love him in the way he obviously did her.

          "I'm almost twenty-six years old now yet I feel as if I could have lived twice that." She began, slowly. "As an X-Man, I cannot count the number of times I've saved the world from catastrophe nor can I account all of the times I've been off of this planet. The lives I've saved or taken are beyond my recollection at this point."

          Logan nodded, confused about where she was headed with all of this.

          "However, as a woman, I can very clearly remember the number of men I have slept with. Likewise, I know the exact number of men I have ever dared to love." She paused, looking up into his eyes. "On the first account, it's only been one. Yet, on the second, it has been two. Forge is one of those men, as you know."

Ororo took a deep breath.

"And you are the second."

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Well? What'd you guys think? Was this a little more realistic for Logan's character?? Please R&R!!

~*PAF*~
Jubes