It stopped raining.

Logan tramped through dead leaves, not bothering to mask his footsteps. Instead he sipped on the bottle of Jack Daniels he held gripped in a tight fist, reveled in his cigar, tracked Marie's trail...and contemplated.

The last time Logan was here, Marie was eighteen, graduating high school and well on her way to becoming a full-fledged member of the X-Men. She had also been dating Bobby. That had been hard to get used to; seeing Marie not as the lost girl who needed protecting but as the young woman with hips and breasts and a dazzling smile that shined like a beacon whenever he was around. It made Bobby jealous and amused the hell out of Logan; young Iceman actually considered the Wolverine a threat. What a laugh.

Right.

Some thoughts, once awakened, didn't like to go back to sleep. It had been easy to look at Marie through the eyes of a father-figure when she was younger. It was when Mystique...when fucking Mystique had offered herself to him in any form he wanted, that he saw his friend in a whole new light. As the blue-skinned metamorph transformed into Jean Grey he had been marginally tempted but it was when she slid into the form of Marie, his Marie that he had felt the first stirring of desire behind the fly of his jeans. A knowing look had filled Mystique's eyes when she felt him against her thigh and he shoved her off, furious that she had dared.

Women had one place in his life: in his bed but not his heart. Keep Marie a little girl and she could remain comfortably in his life as his ward, his friend, but allow her to grow up...well, how would she fit into his life then? He only used women for a quick lay, and Marie was not a one night stand.

He growled.

The sun was rising in the East; Logan veered to the northwest, following her scent. It was going to be a sunny autumn day but right now it was still a chilly morning; he could see his breath in the air. Another long sip of the whiskey took the edge off the cold.

Mystique. Fucking Mystique. She turned the one person in his life that he cherished unconditionally into...into something he was afraid to think about. He had already tried to kill Mystique twice but if God was good to him, he'd get another chance.

Her scent crept up on him; one second he was estimating she was still half a mile off and the next she was sitting on a log right in front of him. She was wrapped in a slightly damp wool blanket and her face was turned to the sun rising over the lake. Her back was to him; she didn't move or speak, anything to acknowledge the presence that she had to know was there.

Logan ventured forward. As he rounded the fallen log, he saw that an arm was poking out of the blanket, held suspended in the air. He drew closer, and saw a butterfly with wings the color of fresh indigo resting in her palm. He realized it wasn't the sunrise she was staring at; it was the butterfly that was cupped in her hand.

Her bare hand.

"You didn't have to come."

Her casual tone belied the anger behind the low, sugary voice. No hello, no how are you, nothing that implied that turning up at her doorstep after a few years was anything but ordinary.

"I wanted to." Logan crouched next to her, watching the butterfly move across her skin, unharmed. The wings opened and closed.

A living thing was touching her skin and nothing was happening.

Without warning Marie shook the insect off her wrist and drew her arm back into the damp blanket, slouching over, closing Logan out. There was really only one way he knew how to approach this. He sat down on the log next to her, feeling the cold bark through his worn jeans, his shaggy hair standing up in wild spikes thanks to the wet mist that draped low over the ground. He drew in a deep toke on his cigar and held out the half-empty bottle of whiskey.

"Drink?"

Without a word, she grabbed the bottle and, with a hint of her former smile on her face, chugged the rest in under ten seconds. She coughed explosively, eyes watering but grinning mirthlessly at the look of shock on his face, and threw the empty bottle into the woods where it shattered.

He was awed. "Good god, darlin', where'd you learn to drink like that?"

She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and shrugged.

"I had you in my head for awhile...natural side effect, I guess."

Now it was Logan's turn to stay silent, brooding and drawing on his cigar. It was so much simpler to protect her from a physical threat; from the bad guys who used force...that he knew how to do. The Prof and Ororo had it wrong; there was nothing he could say to make it better, no magical words to make the pain go away...

So. If he couldn't fight and he couldn't talk, what could he do?

Without thought, Logan scooted closer to Rogue, to Marie; she wasn't really Rogue anymore was she? He stubbed out his cigar and as gently as he could, pulled her to him. She resisted at first but she was weakened by the alcohol, was so tired of fighting, of pretending that life could continue as normal that she gave in, her face crumbling under the weight of uncertainty about herself, her future.

"It's ok, darlin' it's ok. It's gonna be ok," he repeated over and over again as she wrapped her arms around him, sobbing, her cheek against his chest, his hands stroking her hair again and again as if he was soothing a wounded animal. Her body shook with wet, gasping breaths of sorrow. "It's ok."

She cried herself empty, and dozed against his chest. The alcohol and the feel of his arms around her made her feel like she was in a cocoon of safety, a baby in a womb with no thought and no worries.

Eventually though, the strong embrace became uncomfortable; her right leg was falling asleep and his inherent stiffness reminded her just how unfamiliar Logan was with physical comfort. She lifted her head; her eyes turned up to search his and then dropped back down in dismay at the look of pity on his face. Great, just what she needed, someone else to feel bad for her.

"Sorry." She pushed herself off him quickly and he let her.

"No problem, kid."

She sniffed and tucked her hair behind her ears. They stared, sizing each other up quietly. Could he tell? Could he see the difference? She was just Marie now. Nothing special.

He finally spoke first. "Your hair's longer. Makes you look older."

"I am older."

"Yeah." Said roughly, it summed up all his thoughts on that subject. Everyone gets older; he stays the same. "How old are you now, anyway?"

"Twenty-one."

How old did that make him? In all the years he had searched for answers, he still didn't know his own damn age. "Jesus."

"If you came here to make me feel better, it's not workin'."

"You have everyone worried, kid."

She gave him a grin that was anything but happy. "So in comes the big bad wolf to save the day, huh?" She wanted to run away from him but the only place she had to run to right now was back to the mansion, back to Kitty and Jubes who didn't understand why she was so upset, back to the pitying looks of Ororo and Professor X and the rest of the kids at the school. It was either there or here, under the eyes of the one man who could get inside her easier than anyone else. She stood downwind of the rock and just east of the hard place. Which left her without a lot of room to maneuver within the boundaries of politeness.

"You're thinking of running." He was blunt.

Marie shrugged casually. "Maybe. It's not like I belong here anymore."

"That's not true."

Quick as a thought she was beside him, the blanket cast aside, her cold hands grasping his tightly. His eyes were wide at the physical contact; hearing she wasn't a mutant and seeing, feeling the proof were two different things. She was undaunted. "I am officially a homo sapiens. I couldn't drain your energy even if I wanted to."

Logan stared at her hands so long she felt uncomfortable and withdrew them, wrapping her arms around herself. She leaned back against the log.

"Is that what you want? To have your gift back?"

Marie sighed. And there was the crux of the dilemma, the war between her head and her heart. Jubilee, Kitty, Ororo, Gambit...they didn't understand why she wasn't thrilled to be released from what over half the planet considered a curse. Especially her, out of any other mutant; her gift was the most restricting, the most dangerous. It was hard enough to be a teenager and try to wade through the first stirrings of hormones. Add to that the fact that she could never touch anyone, well...it made for a lot of lonely nights. Years and years of them, to be exact. So great...she didn't have to worry about that anymore; she could fuck everyone in the mansion now without fear of killing them with a mere kiss. Jubilee had pointed that out in not so many words, and it only caused Marie to sink deeper into depression. Sure, she could go out and have meaningless physical gratification now, but she couldn't fly on missions. She didn't know how to protect herself...she couldn't be a part of the X-Men. And if she wasn't a member of the team, what business did she have staying here?

"I don't know what I want," she grumbled.

"That's fair. You don't have to figure out everything this week."

He was looking at her now, and Logan was the kind of man that looked at someone so intently it was as if the rest of the world wasn't there. For that exact moment, Marie knew that she was the center of his world, and it made her shiver.

"You cold?"

"No."

Logan sighed and hooked the blanket with his foot, picking it up. He wrapped it around himself like a cloak and then opened his arms, inviting her into his embrace. She was careful to keep her face neutral.

"C'mon, kid, I ain't gonna bite."

It was her turn to sigh. She was about to politely turn him down when a gust of cold wind blew right past her. Marie shivered again, gasping slightly. The weather had horrible timing when Storm wasn't around to guide it.

Without a word she crawled across the log and nestled into the offered embrace. His arms wrapped around her and Marie was enfolded in the warm wool blanket and Logan's scent; rich tobacco and spices and just...him. Eventually she stopped shivering and relaxed against him; his chest a wall of solid muscle at her back that vibrated with a low growl.

"You smell good, kid," he rasped. "But you also smell...different."

Marie rested her head against his shoulder, staring out over the lake. Every single fear she had disappeared in his arms. Of course, that didn't mean it was the safest place for her, either...

"It's probably because...ya know...I'm normal now."

"There ain't no such thing as normal, darlin."

A snort from her. "I still can't believe they let you teach an English class with that horrible grammar."

That brought a laugh, a quick harsh bark that echoed out of his chest into her body. For the first time in weeks, Marie smiled, really smiled- she did like it so when she made him laugh. No one else could make him laugh but her.

"It was only one class; after that they moved me to Phys Ed, remember?"

She did. It was a few weeks before her nineteenth birthday, right before Jean was resurrected. Soon after Dr. Grey's amazing homecoming, however Logan had taken to the road again, probably because the sight of Jean and Scott so happy was too much to deal with. The smile slowly slipped off her face at the reminder of why he left.

Her hands had crept up to hold onto his forearms that were wrapped around her in a bear hug. Unconsciously, she trailed her fingers down to his wrists; it took her a few moments to realize she was actually touching his skin, warm and lightly brushed with hair beneath her fingers. Immediately she yanked her hands back, balled them in her lap.

"Don't." God, that word rasped into her ear made her want to melt.

"Don't what?"

"You don't ever have to be afraid to touch me."

Those words brought up dark, erotic images she'd rather not think of while he could detect her scent. "I'm not afraid," she insisted quickly. "I'm just not used to...touchin' people."

"We're touching, darlin," he murmured.

"You know what I mean." Marie twisted her head just enough to glare at him. "I'm not used to touching skin."

He remained silent. After a few minutes, her hands crept up again, her fingers resting lightly on his bare wrists. She wasn't looking at him but she could almost feel his grin. Dammit.

"I don't want you runnin' out there all alone, kid," he growled.

She didn't want to run. But she sure didn't feel like she belonged here anymore, and she told him so.

"That's bullshit. The Prof said this is your home and he meant it. This isn't a mutant-only club ya know."

"I know. But..." It took her a moment to form the thought. "...but I don't fit in. No one wanted to be near me when my skin was dangerous and they're still afraid to get close. Like now I'm contagious, or something, they might lost their powers."

"You're not contagious darlin," Logan said, and gave her shoulders an extra squeeze.

"The only people who've even tried to touch me are you and-" Marie broke off suddenly, tensing in Logan's arms. Man o man, she couldn't' tell Logan about-

"Who?" Logan growled, in that commanding tone of voice that people knew well enough to back away from him when they heard it.

She sighed. "Gambit."

"That damn Cajun?" Logan didn't know him that well but if he messed with Marie, they'd get to know each other. REAL well.

"Knock it off." This was officially the most embarrassing conversation she had ever had with Logan; she expected him to have flings; of COURSE he did. He was the Wolverine. Her sexuality was a whole 'nother topic. Logan tended to get over-protective when boyfriends were involved, never mind his affinity for embarrassing her with his brutal honesty, like he did when he first learned she was dating Bobby.

So how do you two, uh

"Anyway," she continued quickly, eager to drop the subject, "I said no. I'm not ready for that. I'm kind of avoiding him at the moment. I'm avoiding everyone at the moment."

"No kiddin', sweetheart."

She glanced over her shoulder and froze; his face was so close, his eyes so intense...God, when were they not? It wasn't exactly the same kind of look she would sometimes catch him giving Jean; those looks were sly and playful and full of fire. But it was definitely similar- the look on his face made her heart hurt. Unfortunately, her fingers tightened on his arm in unrestrained anticipation; her breath quickened in THAT way, and instantly he was looking elsewhere and clearing his throat before she could say 'Teenage Crush.' Fuck. Hastily she pulled away from him, sliding off the log and tugging her blanket out of his grasp. She cocooned herself in it and stood silently, her face frozen into a noncommittal feature.

"I don't wanna go back right now. And you can't make me."

Logan sighed. "I know a place you can hang while you...while you work some stuff out," he growled. "No one will bother you there."