Title: The Year-Long One-Night Stand

Author: Karen

E-Mail: R

Disclaimer: The characters are owned by Fox and Marvel.

Summary: Marie enjoys the rewards of a 'friends with benefits' relationship.

Notes: For purposes of this story I'm making some minor adjustments to the timeline. The visit to the White House takes place after Logan's declaration to Scott about Jean's choice. The movie made it seem as if they flew straight from Alkali Lake to D.C. (but that wouldn't explain how Rogue and Bobby could be in 'the leather' – so I always thought that was a plot hole anyway)

Thanks and air kisses to my betas extraordinaire – Taryn and Jonas.

Rogue's POV

Mystique wasn't the only one who witnessed Logan and Jean playing tonsil hockey by the Blackbird the night we participated in a bizarre version of sleep-away camp. Later I saw Jean – at least I thought it was her – go into Logan's tent. Unfortunately, I didn't stick around to see Mystique reemerge after Logan wouldn't play along with her game of 'I'll be whoever you wanna fuck' and tossed her out on her scaly blue ass. So I was left with the distinct impression that Jean and Logan had done the nasty. With Scott being MIA, the kissing was bad enough, but actually screwing was particularly callous. It was like Jean couldn't even wait for the body to cool off. And if, by some miracle, Scott was still alive, that made her a cheating slut.

I'd thought about playing a little musical tents myself and kicking John out of the one he was sharing with Bobby, but then I didn't want my first time to be out of spite. Although somehow I didn't think Logan would feel punished if Bobby popped my cherry. Of course, after the incident in his room in Boston, I'm fairly sure Bobby wouldn't touch me again anyway – unless a ten-foot pole was involved. Yes, he held my hand when we were hit with that psychic hammer at Alkali Lake, but his grandmother's gloves protected him from my skin. Besides, at that point he was in so much pain that he would've clung to Magneto. Stryker's employment of Cerebro to try and wipe out the mutant population had a very pleasant side effect for yours truly, but that doesn't figure into the story until later.

I harbored the anger and resentment toward Jean even after her noble sacrifice. Great, now she was a martyr. I'm sure Xavier has ordered a bronze statue for the front garden. I hope the pigeons 'christen' it during the dedication ceremony.

I overheard Logan telling Scott that Jean had made a choice – and it was Scott. Judging from Scott's quiet sigh and the way he walked away with his head hanging down, it wasn't the kind of revelation he wanted to hear. The art of tact and subtlety wasn't Logan's forte – so what was supposed to be a gesture of acquiescence actually exposed Jean's betrayal.

Even without physically being here, she was still a point of contention between them.

So, I went around jealous of a dead woman and pissed off at the man who'd saved my life three times (not leaving me on the side of that road counts) because he was being a man - ya know, not turning down any chance to bump uglies. Even if it was with a cheating 'ho. Like I said – still jealous and bitter.

When I'd blatantly stood next to Scott at the White House instead of Logan I thought it would've sent him a message, but all he said on the trip home was that he was proud of me for conducting myself so professionally. Luckily for him, the X-Jet isn't equipped with ejector seats or he would've been out of there for being such a dumbass. However, when Bobby commented that I looked hot in the uniform, Logan did give him a death glare, which amused me greatly. Scott was right behind me coming down the ramp and Logan apparently thought that he was checking out my leather-clad ass because he deliberately tripped him. The plan to teach Scott a lesson backfired. He fell onto me, we got all twisted up and landed on the hangar floor with his face smashed into my boobs. Logan yanked him off of me so fast I thought the poor guy would get whiplash. It was his own fault that Scott and I ended up in a compromising position. But of course logic and Logan had never been formally introduced.

Later that night Scott came to my room to make sure I wasn't too bruised. Thank God it hadn't been him tripping Logan – that adamantium-coated skeleton landing on me would've hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. I jokingly told him that next time he decided to jump me I would prefer it if we were somewhere more private … and he was naked. He gave me a big, dimpled grin – probably the first time he'd smiled since Jean's death – and said he'd keep that in mind. Well, at least he didn't insult me by acting disgusted by the suggestion. Scott's so diplomatic he should get a job at the United Nations.

Why, I do believe my crush has transferred to our exalted leader. Take that, Logan.

The next day I decided to take Scott some homemade chocolate chip cookies – as an 'I forgive you for bruising my boobs' kind of thing. Okay, not technically homemade – they were Pepperidge Farms, but I did stick them in the microwave so they were nice and warm and soft. Listen, if Jubilee can pass off a Betty Crocker cake mix for John's birthday as made from scratch, then I can fudge a little too. Except note to self – next time remember to throw away the empty cookie package 'evidence'.

So, I took Scott the cookies … and here's where things got a little strange. He'd just come back from running a sim in the Danger Room and I caught him with his pants down. Actually, not quite that literally. He'd emerged from the shower and answered the door with just a towel wrapped around his waist. Wow, he's got a much nicer chest and abs than I expected. Sure, Logan's hotter than Hades, but what the hell was Jean thinking even risking her relationship with this guy who's pretty damn fine himself.

What happened next is a little blurry. Well, not what happened all night – that I remember (oh boy, do I ever) but how it got started is a little fuzzy. I gave him the cookies, there was some mutual flirting – and then Scott lost the towel, I jettisoned my own clothes and 'pop' – there went my cherry. I didn't even care that my fantasy of having Logan relieve me of my virginity had been forsaken.

I'd always imagined sex with Logan as something akin to a WWF wrestling match – limbs askew, lots of grunting and plenty of bruises in the morning. And not that I'd ever fantasized about Scott (alright, maybe once … twice tops) but he was exactly the kind of lover you'd expect him to be – gentle and very attentive. The man's middle name must be foreplay. Oh yeah! If you've never had every inch of your body kissed, you have no idea what you're missing. I even got to be Magellan and do a little exploring of my own. At the risk of being crude, I'm gonna say that man's penis ought to be immortalized in marble – a Michelangelo's 'David' for the 21st century.

Anyway, we had hot sex and cuddled between rounds and the next morning he brought me coffee in bed. I could get used to this.

And I did.

Neither of us was ready for a big-deal relationship, so we decided to be 'friends with benefits'.

My self-appointed hero Logan, who tends to watch me like a hawk, never even noticed. He must've assumed that I was still too shell-shocked over my bust up with Bobby to embark on anything new, even with my mutation under control. The whole idea behind having a secret lover was, ya know, that it was a secret, so this totally worked for me.

I always took a shower after I'd been with Scott so that Mr. Enhanced Senses couldn't detect his scent on me, but there were other clues that Logan completely missed. Scott and I spent a lot of time together because he was teaching me how to fly the Blackbird (without the crash landing.) He no longer dragged himself around the mansion in a melancholy mood and I had a prominent 'I've just finished doing something naughty' glow, but Logan never made the connection. But like I said, the man can be clueless at times.

Life at the mansion rolled along.

Logan taught a street brawling style of self-defense class - because as he put it so succinctly, "The fuckin' bad guys don't play by nice polite rules, kid." Yes, much to my annoyance, he continued to call me 'kid'. And Scott taught me how to fly the jet and achieve multiple orgasms. While the Danger Room is a pretty exhilarating arena to play in, I will say that my favorite lessons were the sex-ed ones. The teacher to student ratio was better, for one thing.

I never divulged our mutually beneficial and satisfying relationship to either Jubilee or Kitty. Telling Jubes anything is tantamount to posting an announcement on the front page of the school's newspaper and Kitty was nursing a whopping crush on Scott. Thankfully, Jubes was too busy trying to jumpstart her own love life to pay attention to what I was doing, but Kitty ….. I had to sit and listen to her talk about what she'd like to do with Scott, if given the opportunity, while I was actually doing those things. Talk about your massively awkward situations. I hope she never finds out or her crush will turn into crushed.

A year into our arrangement, things took a bizarre turn. Not with us, but the people around us.

Kitty informed Jubes and me that she thought Scott had mourned Jean long enough. She was going to suggest that he start going out again. Specifically with her. I knew Scott thought she was cute, so I was pretty sure he'd be open to dating her. But he couldn't take her out to dinner and a movie, then come home and screw me. Well, technically he could – but that would be really crass. And besides, that would make me the 'other woman' and that's not something I aspire to be ... ever … for anyone…no matter how good he is in the sack.

Then Logan's actions added to the already challenging dilemma.

He must've taken a hard enough blow to the head in a Danger Room sim or during a mission because out of the blue he suddenly no longer saw me as a little girl. He was, intentionally it seemed, addressing me as darlin' instead of kid. And he was flirting …outrageously. To the point everyone noticed. And I mean everyone.

Scott was pissed that Logan was attempting to poach on his territory yet again. Which would've been a legitimate concern – except nobody knew I'd been marked as his property. Not even me. I thought we had a casual no-strings attached arrangement. He'd never made any overtures that would've led me to believe that he was falling in love with me. And I wasn't in love with him. We were friends who fucked. That was the deal – and now Scott wanted to change the dynamics of that pact because someone else was showing more than a passing interest in me, and he felt threatened. I'm not even sure it was me specifically – but rather what I represented – something he considered his that Logan aimed to covet. I felt like I was starring in 'Jean – The Sequel'.

I didn't want to be an ingrate and tell Scott, "Thanks for being my Mr. Right Now and for the awesome shagging for the past year, but as Mr. Right has finally extracted his head from his ass, I'll be moving on now. But here's one more orgasm as a nice parting gift."

So here's the current state of affairs. Scott wanted us to mutate into a real couple, Kitty wanted Scott, Logan wanted me … and a four-way was too much like a porn script. Although I'd bet good money if Logan could be reassured that he wouldn't be in danger of getting too close to any of Scott's parts, he would've been game for it.

I knew I had to end things with Scott when, during an especially wild romp, I fantasized he was Logan and almost screamed out the wrong name when I came. To the best of my knowledge, Miss Manners has never addressed how to handle that particular faux pas, so I had to do something before I accidentally did some irreparable damage to Scott's ego. Using the incorrect name is bad enough – having it be Logan's would be sacrilegious. I think Scott would be less insulted if I yelled out Kitty's name. He might even be intrigued. No wait, that would be Logan's reaction.

I didn't want to be the one doing the breaking up (and can you break up if there's never officially even been a relationship?) so I got extra flirty around Logan to goad Scott into dumping trampy little me. Wow, did that plan backfire in a big way. The more coquettish I got with Logan, the harder Scott tried to be more of a real boyfriend.

When the dozen baby pink roses were delivered, I ran the accompanying card through the shredder and told Jubes that Remy had sent them to her. Thankfully I remembered to warn Le Beau I was crediting him for that.

Kitty was the recipient of the silver bracelet with the heart charm that arrived from Tiffany's. I got Piotr to take the credit for that little extravagance, which wasn't difficult because his crush on her was as big as the one she had on Scott.

Jamie generously gave Syrin a bottle of Fleur De Rocailie perfume. That one was hard to give away because I loved the essences of tuberose, carnation and jasmine, blended with notes of honey, vanilla and iris in that fragrance.

I realized I had to do something about the situation because I was running out of friends to bestow the bounty upon. Then Scott threw me a curve anyway by buying me something I couldn't palm off on any of my more innocent friends … lingerie … from Frederick's of Hollywood, no less. It was the kind of ensemble one wore if one's career involved music and a pole. That one I kept. And used. For about two minutes before it was ripped off and I was ravished. Yes, I know I intended to end things with Scott, but I was taking the 12-Step Program approach. Good in the sack, remember? And if I decided to turn our year-long one-night stand into a respectable relationship at least I knew he'd be loyal – Jean having beaten him into submission on that count. Note to self – stop being bitchy towards a dead woman, who was probably a perfectly lovely person, if you'd just made the effort and taken the time to get to know her.

I think I was afraid that my fantasy of being with Logan was better than the reality, so I was scared to venture out of my nice cozy, safe zone – where I was having scrape-me-off-the-ceiling sex.

If I were truly being honest with myself, I'd admit that I was reluctant to give up a 'sure thing' for what might possibly be just a one-time tumble with Logan. I imagined a scenario where he'd be heading off to the nearest dive to pick up his next conquest while I was still basking in the afterglow.

I didn't consider myself special enough to be anyone's 'forever and ever one and only' – especially not someone with Logan's sexual appetite.

So there was the dilemma. On the one hand, there's Logan – a total sex god – but who's prone to outbursts of unbridled rage and other totally inappropriate behavior. Then there's Scott – sexy as hell in his own right – who has impeccable control of his temper and would hang himself before he'd be caught doing anything even remotely inappropriate. Wildly unpredictable or predictably safe. It should've been a no-brainer, right?

Except, I'd been in love with Logan ever since I'd insulted his messy camper and he didn't make good on his threat to redeposit me on the side of the road, when he generously let me inhale his only snack, for being concerned that I was cold, and the clincher, giving me the little crooked smile when I told him my real name. I'll admit, seeing him in the cage – half naked and all growly – that was pure lust, but it was in the truck when it became 'I wanna have this man's babies'. It wasn't simply a schoolgirl crush – no matter what anyone insists, because even though I was only seventeen when we first met, I'd left my childhood far behind me during the eight months I was on the road. Hero worship? Sure. He'd saved my life three times, which is enough to get a gal all swoony. And he's simply stunning to watch on missions – especially when he's saving little kids. But I've watched Scott, Bobby, Remy and Piotr be heroic too, so it's not just that about Logan. He doesn't even like the hero label – says he's just doing his job. That he's no poster child for the cause – that's 'pretty boy' Scott's responsibility. I do believe, if anyone took a poll, the female population of the mansion would agree with me that there are a lot of hot guys around here. If Charles wanted to put together a guaranteed-to-be-successful fundraising project, he should publish a calendar featuring our mutant superhero guys – in, and especially out of, the leather.

But I'm getting a little off-track here.

I'm surrounded by men who are important to me for various reasons – with two of them vying for the title of Most Important One. Each man had qualities I admired and appreciated. But the bottom line was, Scott I loved fucking and Logan I loved … period.

I knew Logan loved me in his own way. He wanted to protect me – from Magneto, the Friends of Humanity, and any potential boyfriends. No wait. Make that potential lovers. His recent flirting indicated that now he considered me bed-able material. But I wanted more than a guard Wolverine with a hard-on. I knew he wasn't the flowers and chocolate kind of guy – and honestly, I wouldn't want him quite that mushy. I happen to like his edge. The only bad habit of his I'd like to see reined in, is the bed hopping. Call me selfish, but I don't like to share.

And neither would he.

Despite Logan's apparent indifference to Jean belonging to another man, somehow I doubt that he'd tolerate the same thing where I was concerned. I pray it never dawns on the feral little hypocrite that when he'd eavesdropped on Jubes, Kitty and I discussing the progress with my flight training and they'd joked about handling Scott's 'joystick' the double entendre actually had a much naughtier meaning than anyone realized. Which meant that I needed to break it off with Scott.

Except every time Scott and I were alone, and the opportunity to have a serious talk presented itself, it would invariably culminate in us being naked – and any thoughts of giving up the relationship would be tossed out the window.

So I continued to push my luck, which of course meant it was only a matter of time before I'd get caught with my panties down. Literally.

The good news – it wasn't Logan who came aboard the Blackbird and found me straddled bare-assed on an equally naked Scott. The bad news - it was Kitty, who was so upset that she ran into the exit door instead of phasing through it and knocked herself unconscious. The two stitches it took to close the small gash on her forehead only added insult to injury. Thankfully she waited until Hank had left to make some notations in her medical file before she said anything.

She asked how long we'd been involved and when Scott told her just over a year she shot me a look that burned right through me. I didn't need the professor's gift to know exactly what she was thinking. I could see that she was fighting to hold back the tears so I decided to get Scott out of there before she lost the battle. I sent him to find Jubilee and some ice cream.

As soon as the medlab doors swished closed Kitty told me not to bother explaining myself because there was absolutely no justification for listening to her schoolgirl fantasies about Scott while I was covertly sleeping with him. I knew she was right, but I still tried to explain anyway that it was my intention not to hurt her that had kept me from telling her about our relationship. Even confessing our 'friends with benefits' arrangement and the news that he found her attractive did nothing to placate her. If anything, my discussing her with him just served to make her even more upset. So, before I shoved my foot any further into my mouth, I simply said I was sorry and left. I didn't even bother to ask her to refrain from exposing us.

Kitty was far too worried that her crush would be ridiculed if the whole sordid story came out, so she decided to have selective amnesia about what happened on the flight deck. I wasn't entirely in the clear though, because our once-close friendship was more or less finished. In the presence of other people she was civil – even pleasant at times, but whenever it was just the two of us in room, it was completely different. Bobby could've learned a few tricks from Kitty about being frosty. Not that I didn't deserve it, because I did. Although I was a tad miffed that, while she'd cast me in the role of wanton harlot, she'd totally forgiven Scott for his part in the whole thing. I felt like telling her that I wasn't some Jezebel who'd lured an innocent man into an affair – that the seduction had been mutual, but then I figured I'd only be rubbing salt into the wound, so I didn't bother.

Jubilee, who was usually keenly attuned to all potential gossip, was still too wrapped up in her own love life to pay heed to what was happening between her two best friends. It took her a full two weeks before she even noticed that Kitty and I were faking our relationship to the general populace.

Kitty revealing the reason for our falling out now meant that Mutant High's very own version of Entertainment Tonight's Mary Hart had one hell of a scoop. I wondered if Scott could scramble the jet fast enough to make his escape before Logan found out.

When Jubilee commented that Mr. Tall, Dark and Growly had better remain clueless I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Now if I could just keep Kitty from opening her yap in front of Logan, I'd be okay.

Another month went by and I was still debating whether or not to risk giving up Scott for a shot at Logan when yet another complication entered the equation.

Emma Frost blew back into Scott's life.

According to gossip, at one point she'd been a considerable threat to Scott and Jean's relationship. I was curious why she'd waited more than a year to attempt to resurrect her affair with Scott. It certainly couldn't have been out of respect for Jean. It turned out that she'd had a sugar daddy and hadn't wanted to jeopardize her standing in his will. But now that the old coot was gone and her inheritance was secure, she was free to pursue someone who didn't have one foot in the grave. If Scott was even remotely interested in someone like her that sure didn't say much for his standards. Well, except for Jean and me of course.

Emma, or as I've dubbed her – that slut, found all kinds of excuses to come to the mansion and hang all over Scott, which Logan found amusing and I found irritating. If Scott and I were going to be over, I wanted it to be my decision because I was able to get what I really wanted, and not because I got 'better dealed'. Which I realize sounds very childish, but so what.

I didn't get the opportunity to address the situation until Scott and I had just returned from an overnight mission (and funny how nobody had ever been suspicious that somehow we always ended up doing those assignments together.)

I asked him point blank if he was going to be Emma's new sex toy because I wanted to know where that left me. I reckoned once she got her acrylic claws into him, she'd never share. Not that I'd want sloppy seconds anyway.

His blunt steer-the-conversation-in-a-different-direction rebuttal totally caught me off-guard.

He asked me why I was still screwing him when I really wanted Logan.

I must've looked pretty funny standing there with my jaw on the ground.

Momentarily forgetting all about Emma the slut, I managed to mumble something along the lines of "How long have you known?" and he laughed and said his vision may be somewhat distorted due to the ruby quartz, but that didn't make him blind.

Digging myself in deeper, I asked him if he thought Logan realized how I felt.

He replied that Logan was aware I had a crush, but beyond that the man was – as I suspected – clueless as to the extent of my feelings towards him.

Then Scott revealed something else that would've stopped me dead in my tracks if I weren't already rooted to the floor. He said that Logan loved me. And not just in a one-night stand kind of way either. So of course I asked him how he'd reached that conclusion, and he said because Logan had told him.

The next words to come out of my mouth were "Excuse me?"

He then went on to explain how Logan had unexpectedly approached him for some advice on getting rid of the mystery jerk I was screwing so that he could step into the picture. He'd confided to Scott that he'd been reluctant to employ his usual tactics for dealing with the competition for fear that I wouldn't appreciate the caveman approach. Of course Logan wasn't exactly tactful in his quest for assistance. Scott being the mystery man I was sleeping with not withstanding, calling his methods pansy-assed probably wasn't the best way to ensure his help. Luckily for him, by now Scott was used to his rudeness and didn't tell him to go fuck himself. He told him that he'd look into it and get back to him. Roughly translated, that meant Scott didn't quite trust Logan's resolve not to resort to violence and wanted to buy himself enough time to come up with a plan to keep him from finding out that he was my lover. Courtesy of Jubilee, Logan had a sign on his door that read 'Trespassers will be gutted. Survivors will be gutted again', so I don't blame Scott for not wanting important parts detached from his body by an adamantium claw.

Scott finished by saying that we should come up with a contingency plan to end things between us so that we can be with the ones we really wanted. I asked him if that meant Emma was moving into the mansion. He grinned and said Emma was one-night stand material but she wasn't long-term girlfriend potential. He also told me that he'd come to the conclusion, that in regards to him, I wasn't either, which was why – despite the great sex – he was able to give me up. Like a completely clueless dingbat, I asked whom he did consider for the exalted title of 'Official Girlfriend'. He didn't say "duh", but he might as well have, right before he answered, "Kitty."

I wasn't sure how he'd handle the complicated mess, but he's an intelligent guy, so I'm certain he'll figure it out. Kitty really wants to eventually hyphenate her name, so that'll definitely work to his advantage.

Scott needs someone like Kitty, who'll never be tempted by or pine for another man – something he didn't get with either Jean or me. Logan will never be a disrupting factor in their relationship.

I must've been noticeably bouncing on my toes in anticipation because Scott told me that we'd work out the break up details later and I should stop wasting time and go to Logan.

I guess I won't need to give him a 'parting gift' after all. I'm not sure if I'm disappointed or not. But I'm not going to spend any more time thinking about that now when I'm about to embark on a hunt for a certain Wolverine.

I gave Scott a hug and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, told him that I'd always love him – which was true – and then headed off to find Logan.

The banging and cussing coming from the garage was loud enough to be heard two counties over, which made tracking down my quarry that much easier. I walked into the garage in time to witness Logan let loose with "Fuck this" as he kicked the bike onto its side. His hair was mussed up even more than usual, his hands and face were smeared with grease and his t-shirt looked like it had lost a fight with a blowtorch. I fought the urge to laugh, but it was impossible to completely hide my amusement as I asked him if he felt better now that he'd kicked the bike's ass.

"If you spill who you're sleeping with, I'll go kick his ass instead."

"No point now," I replied, "it's over."

"It is?" He seemed surprised.

I nodded affirmatively. "Guess you could say I was psychologically cheating on him."

Logan looked confused, so I tried to clarify it. "I was with 'him' but thinking of someone else."

"Even during …"

"Almost screamed out the wrong name once," I offered and then immediately regretted divulging that much information.

"And who's name was that?" he asked as he stepped close enough that all I could see in front of me was the solid wall of his chest, which was one hell of a nice view.

Wow, he'd really be disappointed if I said anyone's name but his. So not wanting to do that, but feeling the urge to tease him just a little, I looked up at him and in my best sex kitten voice replied, "Take a wild guess."

Not only did he guess correctly, but he got to hear me moaning and screaming it all night long.