Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to Marvel and not to us. Although it must be said that we depower mutants way cooler than they do... XD

A/N: ishandahalf - What are you, gal, some sort of mind-reader? Something you said just practically hit the nail on the head. Oh well, we do hope this chapter leaves you dying of joy rather than disbelief. ;p demiducky25 - Meh heh, how we manage to write in such perfect synchronicity is a well-guarded secret. ;) As for how long the girls have been friends, I think we mentioned waaaaay back in Chapter 2 that they met once at summer camp and became inseparable after that - well, as inseparable as you can be when you're living in other parts of the world. In the end though, they all ended up in NYC and their bond grew stronger. :) Sweety8587- Lol, yeah, that phone really needs to be clobbered with a very big mallet or something. Sierra - Well, I guess we should be flattered since you don't usually like this muck, although to be honest, we've been writing most of this with tongue firmly in cheek... ;p Tammy - We're so glad you like Jean and Anna's friendship. It's funny because at first that special relationship wasn't there, and then as the story went along it started to grow. That's the great thing about writing these stories, you never know where your characters are going to take you, right? ;)

Well, that's about it for our blathering folks...now onto the story! (Sorry it took so long, this was an incredibly difficult chapter to write!)

-xOx-

Mix 'n' Match

(23) One Wedding and a Furore

It's finally the morning of the wedding, and Jean's childhood bedroom is a tidal wave of bustling females – me, Betsy, Emma, her mother, her sister, and an assortment of relatives I don't even recognize. In the middle of the surge I can just about make out Jean from the crown of flowers adorning her veiled head. Mrs. Grey is bawling away into her handkerchief about her daughter being all grown up, while Sarah is grinning and rearranging the elegant string of pearls round Jean's neck, which obviously seems to be a family heirloom. Betsy and Emma are fighting over the digital camera, each insisting that they should be the one to capture all the moments. Heads duck as the camera goes flying through the air and almost smashes an antique vase in the process. Instead of scolding there's laughter. Everyone's too cheerful to be moaning about boring stuff like broken vases.

Yup, it's the usual morning-of-the-wedding rush, the one I never got round to having. Nevertheless, I'm standing on the sidelines, smiling. The happiness is infectious and despite my memories of Cody, I can't help feeling glad that this is Jean's special day. I stand on tiptoes and look over the throng of girls. Jean's in the middle of it all, not saying a word, the smile on her face strained. I frown a little. Must be down t' nerves…

I half turn and look at myself in the full-length mirror. I'm wearing the strapless, low-cut dress that all us bridesmaids are wearing, a classy-looking concoction of lilac-colored satin that hugs my figure like a second skin. My hair's been caught back in an elegant chignon, with soft white curls framing my cheeks and a single sprig of flowers tucked behind my left ear. I would be lying if I said that I hadn't made an extra special effort today. I want to look as beautiful for Remy as much as I do for Jean's big day. I want to show him just how worth it I really am. Remy. Just the thought of seeing him again gives me butterflies. I don't think I've ever been so excited or frightened just to see one man in my entire life.

I press my fingers to my lips and smile to myself.

"You're looking especially beautiful today, Rogue," Emma notes, coming up beside me. Before I notice what she's up to she lifts the camera and snaps a picture of me. I decide to let her get away with it and pass her a gracious smile.

"Why, thank yah."

"No, I mean it," Emma replies seriously, "you look most delicious." She checks how the photo turned out before putting the camera aside and asking suspiciously: "Is there any special man making an appearance at this wedding?"

I stare at her. Trust Emma to sniff out a tryst!

"Of course not," I reply, my cheeks coloring. She gazes at me with narrowed eyes.

"Anna Raven, I don't believe a word of it!" she scoffs. "When a woman looks as hot as you do right now, it has to be for a man. So come on – tell me who he is. Or shall I guess?"

As luck would have it, before I can make my reply the white wedding limo starts hooting us from outside – lucky because I know Emma wouldn't give up until she'd forced the truth out of me, even if it involved the use of a shotgun. There's a general flurry as Mrs. Grey starts protesting about being too late. A rustle of skirts, a swirl of bouquets and everyone's filtered out to go and fight over car seats. Jean stays reluctantly behind under the pretext of doing some final arrangements to her gown. I stand in the doorway silently, not knowing whether I should stay or leave. I haven't had a chance to speak to Jean at all since we got here, and I feel the need to add my own private congratulations. The others finally gone, peace reigns once more and Jean heaves a weary sigh before passing me a look that says 'well, what can you do?' I smile broadly at her, holding my arms open to my old friend. She moves to return the hug and I enfold her in a loving embrace.

"Jean, yah look beautiful!" I exclaim.

"So do you," she smiles, hugging me warmly.

"But not half as much as you," I assure her. "Ah can't tell yah how happy Ah am for you and Scott. Ah only hope you two find the happiness that Cody and Ah never got to have."

"I hope so too," Jean squeezes me fondly before breaking away. "But everyone knows we can never have anything as special as you and Cody did."

"Don't be silly!" I scoff. "You and Scott have been together for ages! You make such a great couple!"

To my surprise, Jean turns away and looks herself over in the mirror again, her gaze pensive. "You really think so?" she asks softly. I catch her morose tone and lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Jean, sugah, is somethin' wrong? You're not gettin' cold feet now, are yah?"

She looks round at me, a wan smile on her lips.

"Rogue, you know the feeling? When you meet someone, and suddenly everything falls into place, and you suddenly realize that everything in your life has been just a prelude, a set-up for that one moment where you meet that one person? You know the feeling I'm talking about?"

I stare at her, the words sinking in slowly as I realize that whoever she's talking about isn't Scott.

She's fallen in love with someone else…

"Jean…" I begin, but she hushes me, placing a gloved finger gently on my lips.

"No – it doesn't matter," she says softly, sadly. "I told him it was over. Scott and I… we've been together so long…loved one another for so long… I can't end it, not even for this feeling inside me. Call me crazy, Rogue, but I can't break that loyalty to Scott, I just can't, I'm too afraid to… And there's a part of me that still – that will always – love him…"

Her finger drops from my lips, but I can't say a word and tears fill my eyes as I realize what she's sacrificing.

"You're a better woman than Ah am," I say at last. "Ah could never give the same to Cody."

"Cody's gone to a better place," Jean replies gently. "You shouldn't feel guilty about your feelings for Remy."

I blush. "Ah know. It's just… It's taken some gettin' used to, yah know? Lovin' someone else…"

"So is that what it is? Love?" she asks. I sense she's glad to have the subject turn away from her.

"Ah… Ah think so. There are so many emotions goin' round inside me, Ah can hardly make head or tail of it mahself. But yeah… It sure feels like love."

The smile that lights Jean's face is genuine.

"After everything you've been through, I'm so happy that things are finally turning right for you, Rogue," she breathes.

"Really? Even when you're hurtin' inside, Jeannie?"

"Rogue," she smiles and squeezes my shoulder reassuringly, "darling, if something good can come out of all this then how could I not? You know I've only ever wanted happiness for you. And if you'll allow me to say it – I can see you really care for the guy. You'll work things out."

"Ah hope so." I hold Jean's face tenderly between my hands, say: "Oh Jean, Ah only want happiness for you too. Are you sure marryin' Scott is what you really want?"

Indecision crosses her face and she's about to make her reply when Betsy opens the door and pokes her head through.

"Ladies, it's time. If we don't leave now we'll be well past the arena of 'fashionably late'."

"Oh God, is that the time?" Jean quickly brushes her gown down and reaches for her bouquet. "Can't miss my big day now, can I?" She rushes out, Betsy behind her. I take one last look in the mirror, rearrange the flowers in my hair, run a hand over the front of the lilac satin dress. Jean's confession has disconcerted and saddened me, but at the same time a nervous joy is spreading through me as I think of finally seeing Remy again, of finally telling him… I love him. And I don't want to disappoint him.

I smile slightly at my reflection.

For the first time in four years, I'm ready to let someone new into my life and it feels good not to be afraid anymore.

-oOo-

The limos drew up outside the church about fifteen minutes too late, but at last out stepped the bridal company - first the bridesmaids, looking radiant and knowing it; then the pageboy and pagegirl, Jean's niece and nephew; then the rest of her relatives; and then finally Jean herself, on the arm of her very proud father.

It was a beautiful early-December morning - the air was crisp and cool, but the sun was shining in full force from a clear blue sky, and the birds were singing. It was the weather everyone had been hoping for. Jean drew her embroidered white shawl over her elbows and turned round to the others.

"Everybody ready?" she asked expectantly. Each one of the girls smiled and nodded back. Only Rouge shivered in the cool winter air, and Jean knew she was torn between feeling worried for her and also elated at the prospect of seeing Remy again. A short look passed between her and the bride-to-be, and Jean gave her a small nod before turning back to the church, saying: "Good, because I really want to get this over and done with."

Everyone laughed at what they presumed was a joke - only Rogue remained silent. Again Jean passed her a half sympathic, half encouraging smile.

Don't feel sorry for me, Rogue, she thought. I'm doing the right thing. At least, here's hoping I am.

She grimaced and turned towards the beautiful building where her life was going to change forever. "Well…shall we?"

The party quickly hurried towards the church, the guests going to take their seats before Jean's grand entrance. While this was going on, the rest of the bridal party stood in the church's hallway, looking round at one another with nervous but happy smiles.

"God, my heart's beating a mile a minute!" Betsy exclaimed in a half whisper. "And I'm not even the one getting married!"

"I wish Bobby was here," Emma moaned. It hadn't escaped anyone's notice that she'd been swigging from a bottle of red wine the entire trip down to the church, and no doubt she was wishing she had someone to distract her and ease her tortured nerves. Rogue simply wiggled a disapproving eyebrow at her two highly-strung friends.

"Gawd knows what you gals are gonna be like on your wedding days!" she exclaimed.

"Uggggh!" Emma groaned. "This only goes to confirm it, girls. The day I get married is the day I'm dead and spinning in my grave!"

They weren't the only ones who were fretting. Mr. Grey, who'd been complaining about Scott Summers since day one, was now torn between losing his youngest daughter to some 'no-good accountant', and feeling proud at how beautiful his little princess really was.

"Well, since I know I'm not the only one who's feeling a little out of their depth today," he spoke up from beside Jean, "I guess no one will mind if I come out sounding overly sentimental when I say I'm proud of you, Jean, love. And no matter where you are and what you're doing, you'll always be my special little girl." He patted her cheek lovingly. "And I just know you'll be a perfect wife and a wonderful mother."

Jean smiled, her eyes welling with tears of joy.

"Thanks, dad." She opened her arms and drew him into a hug. "I love you."

"I love you too," he choked and returned the embrace.

Emma, however, looked like she was about to heave.

"Girls…I think I'm gonna throw up."

Before Emma could even get the chance to think of throwing up, the wedding march began to play and it was their signal for the ceremony to begin. Mr. Grey held out his arm to his daughter and, taking in a shaking breath, she accepted and linked her arm with his own. At a sedate yet regal pace, they both began the walk down the aisle. Behind them, the bridesmaids, pageboy and pagegirl followed suit. As soon as Jean entered the room, the entire gathering turned round to look, gasping, smiling and chattering excitedly at the vision of beauty before them. The fervent attention was almost too much for Jean and she'd barely taken four steps up the aisle when she suddenly felt her knees go weak. Up ahead of her she could see Scott standing at the altar, waiting for her with his brother Alex next to him, acting as best man. And the more she looked at him, the stranger he felt to her. Her vision tunneled. The closer she got to him, the further away he seemed to be… She was going to faint. She could feel it. She couldn't do this. She was going to faint…!

She wobbled mid-step, but her father was there, his hand on her own in a strong, steady grip that kept her upright. And somehow that gave her the strength to keep going. She soldiered on, no longer seeing the people around at her, not even her mother's adoring look, nor her sister's encouraging grin, nor the faces of so many who'd turned out for her special day. She closed her eyes.

I simply can't let them down…

In front of her, Scott half-turned, peeked at her out of the corner of his eye and gave her a small smile. The smile she gave in return, hidden behind her veil, wavered.

And suddenly, at last she was there, on the altar. She felt her father give her a last heartening squeeze of the hand before stepping back and out of sight. Jean stepped up slowly beside Scott, swallowing hard, her vision hazy, her head giddy. Beside her she felt Scott turn his face towards her, and when she returned the look she saw his beaming smile. The look almost killed her but somehow she managed a smile back.

I still love him… I know I do… So why can't I bring myself to do this, why does it still not feel right?

The last strains of the wedding march died away and finally all was in place. The vicar looked out over the congregation and cleared his throat poignantly. There was not a sound to be heard in the entire church. Even Emma, who by now had realized that she'd had a little too much to drink, was keeping deadly quiet.

"Dearly beloved," the vicar began, his voice ringing loud and clear for all to hear, "we are gathered here today to join in holy matrimony Mr. Scott Summers and Dr. Jean Grey."

For the next few minutes the rest of the speech passed over Jean's head like water rolling off a duck's back. Her heart was thudding painfully in her chest and her head was swimming. She felt as dizzy as she had that first night in the Hideaway, when she'd climbed the bar and fallen into Logan's arms… …

No! Don't think about that now! Don't think about him! I care for Scott and no matter what I'm not going to leave him. I'm not going to let him down. I simply couldn't. He's a good man and it isn't what he deserves…

"Are you alright?"

It was Scott whispering in her ear, his voice full of concern. Jean shook herself and nodded quickly, refocusing her attention on the proceedings. The vicar was still talking.

"Lastly," the old man was saying, "if there is any unlawful impediment that should stand between these two, please speak now or forever hold thy peace."

The silence filled the chamber like a deep chasm. At the back of the cortege, Rogue opened her mouth then quickly clamped it shut again.

It ain't mah place t' say nuthin'… Even if Ah did think this was the wrong thing for her t'be doin', this is what she wants an' Ah can't spoil it for her, Ah just can't…

The silence seemed to last forever, and Jean could hardly breathe, waiting painfully for those few seconds of silence to be over as she looked up at the vicar expectantly, practically willing him to continue.

Come on, please come on, stop stalling on me, please don't keep me waiting for -

"STOP!"

From somewhere at the back of the church there was a crash as the double doors were thrown open violently with a resounding bang. Everyone swiveled round in amazement and confusion at this unexpected disruption. Even Jean was gobsmacked. Whirling round, she froze as soon as she saw who it was that had created the disturbance.

There, in between the swinging doors of the church, stood Logan, still in his leathers and his boots, his hair a bedraggled mess. There was a wild look in his eyes, and his breathing was labored. He looked as if he'd run all the way from Timbuktu, he was so unkempt.

Jean gaped, her mouth opening and closing as she was really quite speechless.

"This wedding can't go on!" Logan announced breathlessly yet firmly, his voice carrying to all four corners of the hall. "It can't go on because it would be a sham! And," he stared up at Jean who was standing statue-like at the top of the altar, "because I love her!"

A ripple of astonished bewilderment took over the guests as they murmured amongst themselves in disbelief. Mrs. Grey looked shocked, while Mr. Grey looked dumbfounded. Just about everyone looked confused. Some even thought it was a tasteless prank. But there was no trace of humor on Logan's face as he cast a beseeching look over at the bride.

"Jean?"

Something in his expression seemed to break the spell on her and she lifted her veil, her mouth finally able to move.

"Logan? What the hell are you doing here? How on earth did you know- ?"

"I couldn't help it Jean," he called across the length of the aisle, "I had to see you one last time. I went back to your apartment this mornin' and your neighbor, she told me you were at church gettin' married. I'm sorry, Jean, but I just couldn't let that happen."

More astonished exclamations from the guests. The vicar stood and looked up at the ceiling with a God-give-me-strength expression, as if this kind of thing were a regular occurrence and he would've liked just once for the ceremony to go off without a hitch - technically speaking, that is. Jean, meanwhile, stood nearby, completely flabbergasted.

"Jean," Scott finally spoke suspiciously from beside her. "Who is this man?"

She couldn't lie to him. She opened her mouth, her voice stuttering.

"His…his name's Logan. He owns a bar downtown, the Hideaway… I went there once while you were away in California… That's how we met…"

There was a short silence while Scott took the words in; then suddenly he laughed.

"And he thinks he's in-love with you? He's crazy!"

"I ain't crazy," Logan interrupted fiercely. "An' I don't think I love her, I'm here 'cos I know I do."

The words were enough to stun Scott into silence.

"Logan," Jean cut in, shaking her head hard. "Please don't do this. Not know. I told you, what we had is over."

"Yeah, you said it was over," Logan conceded, his eyes flashing. "But it ain't what you really felt it your heart, was it, Red. You didn't really want to turn me away, did you?"

"Wait a minute!" Scott burst in indignantly. "What you had? What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means she cares for me, bub!" Logan hollered. "And that she knows in her heart of hearts that this isn't what she wants. Ain't that right, Jean?" He turned to her, fixing his deep blue eyes on her timorous green ones. "Search yer heart, Red, and tell me what I said ain't true. You were honest with me about this punk because you said you cared enough about me t' tell me the truth. Ain't that what you said that night y' came round?"

Jean could say nothing. Scott merely looked back and forth between them, his expression outraged. "What! You spent the night with this low-life scum while I was away!" he screeched.

Jean shook her head vehemently, turning to her fiancé and grasping onto his jacket desperately.

"It wasn't like that Scott, I promise you!" she beseeched him. "Nothing happened between us, you've got to trust me!" She halted and her voice became quiet: "Just like I trust you."

By now a silence had gripped the entire congregation as they waited with bated breath as to what would happen next. Rogue was looking distressed but helpless at the scene that was unfolding before her. Betsy was standing with her mouth open, secretly thinking that Sex in the City could go and eat its heart out. Emma, meanwhile, was swaying dangerously between the two, as the wine she'd been swigging earlier began to take effect. Luckily, in the midst of this spectacle, no one seemed to have noticed. Everyone's faces were turned to the altar, waiting for Scott's reply.

"Do you think I could trust you?" he finally said in a quiet voice that nevertheless carried to everyone's ears. "Especially after everything that's happened? I was loyal to you, Jean. I was true to you despite temptation. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"It does - of course it does!" Jean cried, holding onto him all the tighter. "And it's because of that, that I can't leave you, Scott. You gave me a reason to trust you despite all the doubt I had in you. That's why I could never lie to you. That's why you have to trust me, Scott. Please!"

The two shared a look; then slowly a slow smile filled Scott's face, and Jean knew that he believed her. But there was something else in his eyes, a sadness that filled her with dread…

"I believe you, Jean," he breathed at last, grasping her hands tightly in his own, his expression somber. "I believe you. But I want you to do as this Logan says. I want you to search your heart. What do you really want, Jean? Do you really think that I could make you happy?"

Jean stared up into his eyes, surprised and troubled by his words. These were the very questions she'd been avoiding for Scott's own sake, and now he was the one asking them of her. She passed a look down across the church at Logan, who was still standing in the doorway, waiting for her to make her decision. Even he looked taken aback at Scott's words. Perplexed, her gaze wandered over to each of her friends, to Rogue, to her family, to all those gathered, only to find that they could give her no answers. All any of them wanted was for her to be happy. And what would it take to make her happy?

How could she even begin to answer such a question?

"Jean?" Logan asked quietly, hopefully from the back of the church, bringing her back to reality.

"Jean?" Scott echoed softly.

She took in a deep breath. She'd searched her heart. For the first time in a long time, she was going to be true to herself. Slowly, she turned towards Logan, her eyes sad.

"I'm sorry, Logan," she began gently, "but I can't make any commitment to you. Not the kind that you want anyhow. When I turned you away, it was a decision I planned to stick to, because I can't be unfaithful to Scott - it just isn't in my nature. But you're right - I cared for you. I - I still do. More than anything. I never even imagined I'd meet someone who'd make me feel so inspired, so passionate and alive, so…so special. And when that man came along, it was too late. Too late… to love him. Too late to even begin to try."

She paused and turned away from Logan's deflated, crestfallen look, to gaze up at Scott, who was standing there quietly, his eyes never leaving her face.

"But I'm sorry too, Scott," she began again in a regretful murmur. "Because I can't marry you." There was another collective gasp from the congregation, but Jean ignored them and continued, bravely holding the questioning gaze of her fiancé. "Don't get me wrong, Scott - I love you, I really do. But over the years, that love has changed into something different. You're…you're like a soulmate to me, my best friend… But you're not the man that I can marry. I just don't think I could ever really, truly be happy as your wife. And…" her voice grew quieter, "I don't think that I could ever make you happy, Scott. Not really. You're a wonderful man, and I don't deserve you. I was willing to think the worse of you when we hit hard times and it made me realize that I'm not the woman you thought I was. I'm sorry Scott. For everything." She hung her head. "I won't blame you for despising me for this. It's what I deserve."

Their eyes locked again, and though there was sadness in Scott's, there was a steadfast and resolute gleam in his gaze. Gently he took her right hand and kissed it.

"I won't ever despise you, Jean," he said softly. "Not ever."

His lips lingered on her hand a moment more before he dropped it. His head held high, his face calm, he turned and began to walk down the altar and back down the aisle. Jean gazed after him, tears clinging to her eyelashes before sliding down her cheeks as she watched Scott - the man she'd grown up believing she would marry - walk away. All around the congregation, women were dabbing handkerchiefs to their eyes. Even the vicar looked moved despite the fact that his service had been ruined. Betsy looked dazed and upset, shocked and distressed. For Rogue, the entire thing had hit too close to home and she gazed at the floor, biting her lip hard, trying not to start bawling like everyone else was. Jean had made her decision, and whether for better or for worse, she believed that it was the right one.

For Emma, however, the drama had been just too much. As soon as Scott was out the door she fainted dead away, only to be rescued by a cluster of gallant suitors who were already eager to lend their services to her at any opportunity given.

-xXx-

Within fifteen minutes, the entire congregation had dispersed. Everyone had had something different to take home that day - some were disappointed and dejected, others disgruntled about missing out on a great shindig, and there were still others who viewed the entire episode as some real food-for-thought. Since Scott had declared no hard feelings, the Summers family had had to grin and bear it, although the Grey family didn't think they'd be seeing them again any time soon - which was probably a very good thing indeed.

In the aftermath, Mrs. Grey was still very much shell-shocked and was taken home to lie down for what would probably be the rest of the week. Emma, meanwhile, was still apparently recovering in the church hall, her male admirers refusing to disperse until she'd told them to do so. Betsy, who'd been trying to get rid of the annoying group of fussing men, didn't think Emma was going to order them out at all since she was enjoying the attention so much. Rogue was standing a little away from the group, looking out the window every now and then with a distracted expression. Much as she was distressed at the whole thing, her mind was firmly elsewhere.

Jean however, had escaped to the graveyard for some fresh air and time out. It had got a little cooler, and she pulled her stole closer about her as she trudged aimlessly through the long grass and watched the birds circling above. This wasn't remotely where she'd thought she would've ended up on her wedding day, but the good thing about graveyards was that there wasn't anyone around to distract her, so she sat on an old tombstone and turned the day's events over in her head. Obviously it was too late to change her mind. She'd upset so many people, hurt those who loved her most - and yet at the same time, she felt oddly calm and placid inside, as if a burden had been lifted from her. Much as she hated to admit it, much as it hurt - she'd done the right thing. She couldn't have borne a life with Scott feeling miserable, especially knowing he'd be miserable too. Maybe, in time, they could be friends again. If that was so, it would be a long way off. They'd both need time to heal, and he would need longer than her before he was ready. She would always love him, but the love would never be the same again. Something had awakened in her. She wasn't sure what it was yet, or even if she liked it, but just the thought of it - and the new freedom she now had - filled her heart with determination and excitement.

For the first time in her life, a whole new path lay in front of her - all she had to do was discover it.

"Hey."

At the unexpected greeting Jean looked up, only to see Logan standing hesitantly beside her.

"Hey," she replied lightly.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked, indicating to the space on the tombstone beside her.

"I don't mind," she answered. "Just as long as the owner doesn't."

He cocked a quirky smile at her sense of humor and sat down, keeping his distance. Jean sensed that he didn't want to get too close, despite the feelings she knew he still had for her. She stared at his profile, seeing the tongue-tied expression of the man she'd come to find so intriguing, so different to any other she'd ever met, and suddenly she knew - if they were ever going to make it, it'd take some time for them to work things out as well.

"Jus' wanted t' apologize," he broke out gruffly, not looking at her, "for spoilin' things for yer. If I hadn'ta turned up, you woulda married him and prob'ly woulda been happy. I jus'… I jus' didn't want t' lose you, Red, and I wasn't thinkin' straight. It made me blind an' selfish." He lowered his voice and said: "I only hope y' can forgive me."

He was looking down at his nails, embarrassed and truly repentant. Jean sighed and looked up into the clear blue sky.

"You know, Logan… If you really want to say sorry, it'd have to be for even meeting me in the first place. Because from the moment I met you, I've been questioning not only me and Scott, but myself - who I am and what makes me tick." She paused and looked at him. "I don't know whether I really would've been happy with Scott or not in the long run. What really matters is, if I'd married him today I wouldn't have been true to myself. Whether it was right or wrong of me to let him down… I don't think marrying him would've been truly what I wanted. And that's something I just can't change, Logan. It isn't."

He nodded quietly, and for a moment they were silent, listening to the birdsong, not knowing what to say. Then Logan finally spoke.

"I hate t' ask this, Red, I really do but… When yer said you still cared for me…" He stopped, grimaced, then began again. "What I mean t' say is… Do you still think it's too late to even begin t' learn to love me?"

Jean took in a breath, knowing it'd been hard for him to ask it. She looked down at her feet as she swung them back and forth over the grass. Then she shrugged.

"Honestly, Logan…" She looked at him. "I really don't know. I think it's a little too soon for me to be going and making decisions like that, don't you think?"

He bit his lip and nodded again, understanding.

"Yeah. Too soon for all of us, I guess. But…" He returned her look, holding her gaze with clear eyes, "I just had t' ask. A man… he's gotta have hope, y'know."

She half grinned. "I know. Keep hoping, Logan. You may be surprised."

He smiled, then jumped down from his seat, paused and turned to her.

"Well… Maybe you'd be needin' a lift home?"

She thought about it a moment.

"Yeah, I'd like that. The limo's already gone, and I haven't got any cash for a cab."

He smirked.

"Well…when yer ready, my bike's out front. I'll be waitin' for yer."

"Okay." She nodded. "Thanks, Logan."

He gave her smile that said don't mention it, then turned and left.

-oOo-

True to his word, Logan was still waiting outside the church half an hour later. As Jean approached him he stood up a little straighter and threw away his cigar.

"Ever ridden a bike before?" he asked her.

"Nope," she admitted.

"Hmph. Ain't got no helmet. The ride may be a little rough. You sure you don't want a cab? I'll pay fer it."

"You already paid for my last cab home," Jean commented wryly. "What, you want me to owe you two favors? Isn't that being just a little too greedy?"

The side of the mouth twitched humorously. "Just lookin' out fer you, is all. You've been through a rough time." He stopped and threw a look over her shoulder. "And it looks like you ain't the only one."

Jean turned and saw Rogue a little way off, standing forlornly outside the church, alone. There was a harassed look on the beautiful Southerner's face as she glanced down at her watch and back down the road, searching with a familiar desperation in her eyes. Jean turned back to Logan, laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Could you wait just a minute, Logan? There's something I have to do."

"Sure thing," he grinned. "Just don't keep me waitin' too long here, darlin'."

"I won't," she assured him.

Slowly, Jean began to trudge up the pathway towards Rogue.

"Waiting?" she asked expectantly as she neared her old friend.

Rogue looked up, her cheeks flushed. "Yeah. For Remy. He said he'd be here at two-thirty." She lowered her eyelids, her throat tense. "It's already past three. Ah guess he ain't comin' after all."

Jean gently took her friend's hand, squeezed it encouragingly. Despite her happiness she couldn't bear to see her friend looking sad. "He'll come, Rogue," she reassured her. "Don't leave just yet. Wait a few minutes longer."

Rogue lifted her eyes, and Jean saw there were tears in them. "Ah'm tired of waitin', Jean. It's what Ah've been doin' these past few years and it's got me nowhere."

"Do you love him?"

Rogue swallowed, nodded. "Yeah. Ah think Ah do."

"Then he's worth it."

For a moment, neither said anything more. Then Jean stirred, pressing her wedding bouquet into her friend's hand.

"I wanted you to have this, Anna," she said softly. "I don't know whether it'll do any good anymore, now that the wedding's off… But I think you're the one who deserves this, more than any of us." She raised a hand and touched Rogue's cheek affectionately. "Hang on in there, hun. He'll come."

Rogue looked down at the bouquet for a moment, her mouth trembling. Then she threw her arms round Jean in a fervent and grateful bear hug.

"Thanks, Jeannie," she whispered. "You've been such a great friend…You and both the gals… Ah don't know what Ah would've done without you guys…"

"We'll always be there for you, Rogue. Always," Jean replied, only to be interrupted by Logan hooting her from his bike. The two broke apart and passed one another teary-eyed smiles.

"You be happy now, Rogue," Jean said, her voice wavering.

"You too," Rogue replied, her voice trembling too. "You too, Jean."

Slowly Jean made her way back to Logan, who was sitting rather impatiently on his bike.

"Done?" he asked.

"Done," she nodded.

"Think you can get on this bike in that dress?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked.

"Logan, today is the start of a whole new life for me," she replied with a broad smile. "I think I'm up to trying just about anything."

-xXx-

The last of the guests have finally gone, and I sit outside the church and look up at the beautiful old building and smile wistfully to myself. Things always have a funny way of turning out. I always thought Jean and Scott would've been the happiest out of all of us. But then again, there was a time I thought I was gonna be the first one to get married out of us four, the first to live in my little home with a white picket fence, some kids, and a horse.

I look down at the red, pink and white bouquet in my hands.

Yah never know, Roguey. It still might just happen…If only the right guy was here…

As if on cue, I hear the sound of a car approaching and I turn to see a familiar red sportscar park up on the gravel driveway. My heart flip-flops as he opens the door and steps out. He's dressed in his usual smart-casual look – even made an effort and put a pink carnation in his buttonhole. But he looks like he's been tearing out all that gorgeous auburn hair of his with worry. I suppress the urge to go over and smooth it back for him, maybe run my hands through it and comfort him. Somehow I can tell that this isn't how we're going to play it.

He finally sees me standing there and walks over slowly. I know how he's feeling. Nervous, anxious, thinking I'm going to reject him again. But I've always known he's stubborn as a mule. The jerk just doesn't give up – and for the first time I'm thankful for it.

He stops a few feet from me and for a moment we stare at each other and there's nothing we can say. I want to run up to him and kiss him. I want to thank him for still not giving up on me even after all the cruel things I said to him. But somehow, I just wasn't born to be the leading lady in Hollywood romances, so I just stand there.

"Yah too late, Cajun," I say instead. "Ceremony's ended. Everyone's gone."

He shrugs, grins that same old grin. "Only came for one person, chere." He sees my teary eyes, my pale face, and he runs a hand through his hair, his expression suddenly sheepish and distressed. "I'm sorry I'm late, chere. De traffic's been pilin' up de past few blocks or so… I didn't mean t' make you wait. Truth is, I was thinkin' – I was fearin' – dat maybe, when I got here, you'd be long gone anyway…" He trails off. I say nothing. How can I explain that I would've waited for the moon to come round, even if it was only just for him? Nevertheless he takes my silence as a reproach. He hesitates, says: "Y' look beautiful, Rogue."

This time I smile to hear him say it. "Y' don't look half bad y'self. Pity you came so late all the ladies had to miss yah handsome self."

"I t'ink dis time I can live wit' de disappointment," he jokes somewhat apprehensively. "Just as long as you're here to appreciate me in de meantime."

I allow myself to chuckle. It feels good. Here we are, wanting desperately to make things up, and we end up doing the same old bantering routine, just like always.

"Ah, Remy," I sigh. "Look at meh. Ah always thought everythin' in mah life would've been sorted out by now." I look back up at the church and murmur: "Time was, Ah thought Ah was the one goin' t' be walkin' down the aisle."

"I know," he reassures me softly. "Me too."

He's still being so kind, and I know I don't deserve it. I look down and twirl the bouquet round nervously in my hand.

"Ah'm sorry about Belle, Remy," I finally manage to get out. "An' Ah'm sorry 'bout all those things Ah said t' yah down in Caldecott. Ah was cruel and Ah didn't mean 'em. Ah just thought Ah owed Cody somethin', and that somethin' didn't involve a future with you."

"I know." He shrugs, trying to make light of the matter, but I know he's feeling deeply inside. "I ain't Cody. I felt de same way when Belle left me. De truth is, Rogue, ain't no one who's ever gonna be the same as either of dem. Maybe no one can measure up t' Cody. But…" he pauses, and I know it's difficult for him to say it. "…I'd like t' try."

I look back down at the bouquet, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat.

"Nah. Ah never expected yah t' live up to Cody. Yah are a low-life Cajun swamp-rat after all. Yah treated me like dirt and infuriated me and made me want t' slap the livin' daylights outta yah." I look up and manage to smile a watery smile. "But yah were also kind ta me, an' took care of me and held me close like no one since Cody ever did." I pause and take in a huge breath. "Ah guess that's why Ah found mahself fallin' in love with yah."

It's only when I say the words I never thought I'd find myself saying again that he gathers the courage to cover the distance between us. I can't wait any longer. I drop the bouquet and throw my arms round him, and he wraps his arms round me and we hold each other tight and it's just the way it should be.

"I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you…" he whispers.

"Ah couldn't stop thinkin' about you since day one," I reply chokily.

"Been missin' your insults ever since we got back from Mississippi…" he tries to go one better.

"Been missin' those dirty innuendoes of yours…"

"Been missin' dat gorgeous bod lyin' next t' mine de past few weeks… not t' mention dose luscious lips o' yours…"

"Remy…" I say, pulling away from him and taking his face gently between my hands, "Shut up an' kiss me."

He smiles, that cocky smirk that brings back the old Remy. He's only too happy to oblige, and he bestows me with a searing kiss that sends my toes curling with desire. For once there's nothing between us, and I can see as clear as day – this is right. So maybe he'll never be Cody. I don't want him to be. I'll never be Belle to him, and it's okay. At least we're both brave enough to try again.

We finally break apart and he gazes into my eyes with that sexy, suggestive look I would've shunned not so long before. His hand caresses my cheek and he says: "Guess we gotta lot to catch up on, chere."

"Oh no, not tonight, Cajun," I joke. "This time we're gonna do things the right way round. We're gonna talk for a change. And it ain't gonna involve any sassin', any fightin', or any dirty jokes."

"Aw," he pouts.

"An' then, if you're a good boy," I add huskily, grabbing his lapels and pulling him in close again, "Ah just might give yah somethin' else t' remember me by."

He grins. "Does it happen t' involve any bondage lessons your friend Emma might've been teachin' you?" he asks, his hands slipping over my butt and pulling me in close, letting me feel the full effect I'm having on him.

"You wish," I murmur in reply, before finding his mouth with mine and kissing him passionately once more.

-oOo-

Only one more chapter to go folks!