Logan woke up in bed alone.

It was barely dawn; the sky outside his window was still dark blue. His first thought was that he had dreamt last night, all of it- the hunt, the catch, the proverbial kill. Only the pleasant ache at his groin and the scent of Marie in his sheets were too burgeoning to ignore.

He rubbed his hand over his face and looked around, yawning.

Her boots and stockings were perched on top of his desk, and her clothes were still in the pile on the floor that they had landed in from the night before. Unless she walked out of his room in her birthday suit, she was still-

The toilet flushed, and Marie emerged from his bathroom. She had apparently rifled through his closet; she was wearing his navy plaid flannel shirt, the hem of which came down almost to her knees.

"Hey," she drawled in a whisper. She'd washed the remnants of her make-up off her face too. She looked younger now.

Logan propped himself up on his elbows. "Hey."

It had taken them seven years to get to this very moment. He found himself wondering what had taken them so long. He wasn't her father, her protector, or her teacher. They were lovers now. Lovers. It wasn't the devastating thing he'd imagined for so long that it would be. As a matter of fact, the only thing he really wanted to do right now was pull her back into bed with him. Was it considered rude to ask her to unbutton that shirt of his she was wearing so he could admire her breasts?

"We didn't use a condom," she said, breaking into his thoughts.

Logan slowly considered that possibility. It'd been such a long while since his last time that the idea of birth control hadn't even popped into his head.

"Are you...?"

Marie shrugged. "I think I'm ok. We probably shouldn't do that again, though."

"You're probably right."

He fell silent, wondering if she meant they shouldn't have sex without protection again or they just shouldn't have sex again, period.

"So," she said, too casually to be considered off-hand. "Was this...you know...a one time thing? Heat of the moment, get it out of our system?"

That was the most awkward question he'd ever been asked. Logan cocked his head and regarded her from behind a careful look. "Am I out of your system?" he asked gruffly.

She blushed and shook her head.

He released a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Same here."

Marie finally let go of the grin she'd been keeping back. As easy as pie she slid back beneath the covers and snuggled up to him in a way he didn't think he'd get tired of. Bits of her kept disappearing and reappearing as she situated herself, wriggling closer and closer until she was almost straddling him.

"You were wrong, you know," he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I am perfectly okay with you bein' on top."

He made a sound, low in his throat, and then his hand was at her neck pulling her down to kiss her. His tongue was wet and sweet and while he was busy with her mouth she slid her hand between them, pushed him back slightly.

"Condom," she gasped, breaking their kiss, and waited while he twisted to reach the bedside table. There was an unopened pack of latex condoms in the drawer, and Marie couldn't decide whether she was happy the box was unopened or embarrassed that he had condoms in the first place or-

He tore the box open with his teeth, which caused her to giggle most inappropriately, and she found out he could raise a disparaging eyebrow at her while putting on a condom. It was better than walking and chewing gum.

This time he was considerate and collapsed next to her instead of on top of her. They lay beside each other, panting and grinning and listening to the morning birds begin their sunrise chatter.

"Wow," she said when she caught her breath.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Huh," she added.

"Yup."

A few moments passed with nothing but the birdsong outside his window. It was the most peaceful moment she'd had in a long time. Her nerves, which had been twanging along the last two weeks like an over strung guitar string, were now dragging on the ground, relaxed and sated. Logan's deep, even breathing lulled her into a dozing state, where she felt like she was floating. She was sore, but in a fabulously pleasant way, like her body had done something it was meant to do. Fulfilled a task, worn itself out, and for once, NOT by kicking the shit out of something.

"Should we take a shower?" she asked lazily.

"Do you want to?"

She considered the idea. "I don't wanna move."

Again she felt more than heard him laugh. "Me neither. Hand me that towel on the floor."

Marie did, with a small groan of complaint that he made her move even the slightest bit, and then settled in again at his side when he was done attending to the minor clean-up detail. "Do you...do you want me to leave?" she asked softly.

"Do you want to go?"

"Nope."

"Then stay."

Marie smiled against his chest.

It was, in all other senses, an ordinary Saturday morning. The smell of coffee permeated every corner of the kitchen, and the staff of the Institute was lounging around the grounds on their day off.

"Anyone seen Rogue?" Jean said, sidling up to Storm and Nightcrawler, who were sunning by the pool. "She still has my jacket and I wanted to wear it to lunch."

Before opening her eyes, Storm waved a cloud in front of the sun. Decently shaded, she looked up at her colleague. "Jean," she lilted in her exotic voice, trying to figure out the best way to phrase it. Storm's room was right next to Logan's.

"Find something else to wear," she advised.

This time Marie woke up first, and amused herself by watching Logan sleep. It occurred to her for the first time that she ought to be worried sleeping next to him- he might have a nightmare and lose control. She then dismissed the idea from the look on his face; completely peaceful, with an added shit-eating satisfied grin. He was actually snoring a little even. It was kind of cute.

The down-comforter was long since discarded on the floor, but the sheet was draped loosely across their bodies. Marie took the time to cast a glance at the rest of him. His body was no surprise to her; he liked to work out in sweatpants and nothing else. His idea of casual around-the-house clothes consisted of jeans and a white undershirt...and sometimes just jeans. Hell, the first time she'd laid eyes on him he was half-naked to the waist. However, catching furtive glimpses of him as he worked out and staring unfettered at him as he slept, curled around her, well...

Marie knew he had a killer body, nopun intended. She knewabout the dusting of dark hair across his chest, and how it ran down his belly. She knew how broad he was, how powerful his arms were. But she'd never had the chance to study his elbows at close range. She never realized how soft the dark hair under his arms was, and she'd never had a close-up view of each individual hair that grew out of his face. The skin beneath his unkempt attempt at a beard was surprisingly pale. She softly traced a finger up his bare flank, marveling at the smoothness of the skin there.

She looked up again to find him awake and watching her watch him.

His voice was scratchy from sleep. "Hey."

"Hey," she whispered back. Years of wanting him, of harboring him close to her heart, and of being friends, and she had no idea what was appropriate to say at the moment. So she could say the only thing that popped into her mind.

"Are we still friends?"

He didn't answer her; only looked at her, and her stomach twisted. She resorted to babbling.

"I mean...you said last night you didn't want to be friends anymore. Did you mean it?"

"Yeah," he rasped finally, "I did."

Marie felt cold all over. She started to pull away, but he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her under him, sheets and all.

"I was also serious when I said it wasn't enough." He framed her face with his hands, looking at her like he wanted to memorize every pore. "I don't wanna be just friends anymore." "I gotta have more of you, Marie."

If there was one good trait the Wolverine had that carried over into Logan's life, it was the animal's inability to lie. The intensity and honesty of his gaze overwhelmed Marie to the point of tears pricking at her eyes.

"You got as much of me as you want," she whispered.

"Has anyone seen Logan?" Scott asked at the lunch table. "He still has the keys to my bike."

Kitty, who had been filled in by Jubes, who overheard it from Betsy, who'd been told in passing by Nightcrawler, who'd been lying next to Storm as she talked to Jean, chewed thoughtfully on her salami on rye.

"You might wanna borrow Hank's Jeep instead," she said after swallowing.

There'd never been talking after sex. There'd usually only be a brief kiss or a slap on the ass and the woman would be gone. He didn't like to share his bed with a stranger, and the women he'd fucked were always strangers.

With Marie, the idea of a quick slap and shoving her out the door never even popped into his head until she'd brought it up. His response had been immediate: don't leave. She made him drowsy, content, and during the brief portions of the night when they slept, there were no nightmares. Only the feel and smell of her, and, after their last round, the taste of her on his lips. Instead of sleep, she was sprawled across him, her chin propped up on his chest, unabashed in her nakedness and the amount of touching that was going on. Her hair looked like an albatross's nest, but he still thought she looked as gorgeous in the sunlight that slanted across his bed as she did in the moonlight.

"I feel like this is a dream. A fabulous, amazing dream," she said as she lazily traced a finger down the line of hair on his belly, "that I'm going to wake up from any second. And when I do, I'll be lying in my bed in the room I share with Kitty and Jubilee, and my gloves will be on my nightstand, you'll still be off on one of your quests and I'll still be the untouchable girl."

Logan poked her in the side. "Touch, touch, touch." He pulled her further up his body. "Y' know, training sessions should be no problem for you now that you're okay with...touching..." This was accompanied by a lick against her earlobe that caused her to raise her head. There was heat in her eyes.

"Sessions with just you and me or sessions with the team?"

"Well..." Logan seemed reluctant to bring it up but the look in her eyes told him she'd retaliate if he didn't finish. "Xavier said you're welcome to join the team exercises any time."

Only members of the X-Men could train during the group sessions in the Danger Room. Which meant the Professor was still offering her a place on the team, even though she was human. The idea was both exciting and scary- face Magneto with nothing but standard fighting skills? Go on missions without her skin to fall back on?

You don't have standard fighting skills, she argued with herself. You're elite. Plus there would be a team of X-Men ready to fight with you.

Marie bit her lip. Was she ready? "What do you think I should do?"

He made his shrug very casual. "S' up to you, darlin'."

She thought. It didn't take her long; after the last three or four weeks, her head was finally clear. "I want to stay with the X-Men."

He didn't look happy about her decision, but he didn't immediately fall back into protector mode. Instead he just shrugged. "I'll worry about you. Aw hell, what's new about that, I've always worried about you." He tweaked her nose. She smiled at him, one of those smiles that said exactly what she felt without needing words. This smile said 'I love this guy.'

It was the right moment. He should have said 'I love you.' He knew how she felt, knew she loved him. She deserved to know...

...twenty two years of hiding his emotions were too much to overcome so soon. He knew how he felt, and it was so powerful it actually reeled him into silence. Instead he kissed her forehead and gave her one of his trademark grins and hoped it was enough for now.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"Team training isn't until Monday."

"So?"

His body and his heart were on two different wavelengths, and right now his body was ready. "Thirty six more hours."

Comprehension dawned on her face, and Marie blushed. "But I'm hungry," she protested.

Logan eyed her pink-tipped breasts, which were swollen from his previous attention. "So 'm I."

It was Sunday evening in Westchester, and dinner had just been cleared from the table.

"Has anyone seen the chocolate syrup?" Bobby demanded, rifling through the cabinets for a topping to his scoop of rapidly melting mint chip ice cream. "We just bought some two days ago."

"I saw Logan grab it from the pantry this afternoon. He said it was for a training excercise."

Jean choked on her coffee.

Jubilee's eyes widened. "I wonder which one of them needed tr-"

Kitty clapped her hand over her friend's mouth. "Sometimes ignorance is bliss," she muttered.