Hi, everyone. Just wanted to put this little disclaimer out there. X-Men do not belong to me. However, Natasha Greshnev in all of her gorgeous spunkiness belongs to me. Hope you like her.

Summary: From the time she was ten, Natasha Greshnev was a tough cookie to crack and grew up to be a sarcastic, cold assassin with a hidden mutation. But when Professor X calls her back to the mansion, Natasha finds herself growing fond of a new mutant that reminds her of her, dangerously attracted to the infamous Wolverine and thrown into the war looming ahead against Magneto. It's been a long time, but can Natasha still fit the X-Men suit? Or has her heart become too tainted with the blood she's shed?

Bold – Professor in people's heads or Wolverine.

Bold Italics – Natasha in people's heads

Bold Underlined – Jean in people's heads

Italics – Normal people thoughts or memory

Touch Me, I'm Gonna Scream

Natasha sighed as she entered the now alive mansion, greeted by the sound of kids playing games in one of the living rooms and running around the mansion. She winked at Rogue, who was actually playing pool with two girls, Bobby and John. She nodded to a few of the oldest boys briefly, some of which who were graduating this year, and gripped the bag in hers tightly. Turning the corner, she saw Scott.

"Hey, handsome," she purred just to see his shoulders tense up.

Even though Scott was always tense.

"Tasha," he replied coolly and Natasha smirked, stopping before the tall male. His six-foot-two frame towered over her and when she was younger and mad crushed out for him, that height and his slim, well-muscled body did wonders for her fantasies. Now, she couldn't help but compare him to a certain growly, thick-muscled male that was lurking the halls somewhere.

"What's wrong, Scotty-poo?" She cooed and she could feel Scott glaring at her through his visors.

"First of all, these nicknames of yours have gotta stop," he admonished and she chuckled dryly. "And for your information, nothing's wrong." Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"So, you naturally stand like you've got something stuck up your ass?" Scott turned to her fully now, arms folded.

Fuck you, Scott thought vehemently. Natasha laughed aloud.

Didn't we already do that, Natasha reminded him and just like that, Scott tensed up even more and Natasha could see his Adam's apple move as he gulped at the memory.

"Don't tell me that that still makes you nervous, Scotty?" Scott didn't reply and Natasha took a step forward, not expecting him to stand still.

After all, Scott had an appearance to keep up. He was the fearless leader of the X-men. What did he look like backing down from his girlfriend's younger sister?

A very smart man, his mind griped.

"After all, it was only one night," Natasha reminded him with a mischievous grin and even reached her hand up to cup his chin, but he smacked her hands away.

"A night we swore not to talk about," he snapped and Natasha's smirk grew.

"Right. Because you didn't want to hurt Jean's feelings." Scott inhaled sharply as Natasha almost pressed her curvy body against his. It wasn't that he still wanted her as badly as he had that night, but it also wasn't like he still couldn't acknowledge that she only became even more gorgeous over the years.

He'd be a fucking idiot if he couldn't see that.

"What was it that you were protecting her from, Scott? The fact that we did it or the fact that you enjoyed it? Or…was it the fact that you wanted it long before we got drunk?" Natasha was close, like crazy close. It was uncomfortable and when he gulped again, Natasha was full out grinning. "Because Jean knew long before you told her and long before you two admitted you wanted to be together."

Speaking of Jean, she just turned the corner to see her boyfriend about to practically piss his pants while her sister was pretty much antagonizing him. With a knowing chuckle, Jean continued her path to them.

"Nat, you're back," Jean exclaimed and Natasha rolled her eyes, knowing full well her sister knew what the hell was going on. Winking at Scott just to see him get even more nervous, she turned.

"Yeah, Erik didn't want much. And Raven sends all of her love," Natasha replied sarcastically as Jean embraced her with one arm. As the sisters were close, Jean made sure her lips were close to her sister's ear.

"Stop teasing my boyfriend," Jean whispered and Natasha grinned.

"Tell him to stop looking like a dear in headlights when I enter a room." They both smirked at each other as they pulled away and then faced Scott.

"Jean, how was your meeting with the Professor?" Scott asked readily as his girlfriend tucked herself under his arm.

Finally, some fucking protection.

"Pretty good, love," she purred and kissed him lingeringly, causing Natasha to gag.

"Yeah, just got boring. Real quick." Natasha dangled her little bag, which held a six-pack of beer in front of them. "I got better things to do."

"Yeah, Logan," Scott muttered and Natasha gave him a look as she walked down the hall, swearing to God that he was not trying to watch the sway of her hips. Jean smirked knowingly as she stood in the way of Natasha's retreating form.

"You know, you're gonna have to stop letting her get to you," she told him and Scott smiled sheepishly. "It's crazy she still has that kind of power over you after three years." Scott cupped her face, pulling Jean closer to him.

"You know you have nothing to worry about when it comes to my relationship with Natasha." Jean smiled warmly at his promise and leaned up to kiss him softly, lingering on his lips afterwards.

"Oh, I know. Besides, it's not you I'm worried about when it comes to my sister. It's Logan."

"This will be your room for as long as you want," Jean told Logan as they entered the bedroom. He smirked at her formal tone, not even hiding the fact that he'd been eyeing her ass when she turned around. Jean bristled when she noticed Logan's hazel eyes. "See something you like?"

Logan raised an eyebrow at that. So, the doc wasn't so frigid? It wasn't as surprising. After all, her sister couldn't have been the only one with a smart mouth in the family.

"Well…" Logan trailed off as his eyes ran up Jean's lithe body, impressed. Jean was definitely something to look at. But mate is better, Wolverine reminded him and Logan inwardly rolled his eyes. Fucking prick was obsessed with the girl. Logan finally noticed the bruise on her neck deepening and immediately felt bad. "Sorry about earlier, by the way. My mind was kinda out of it."

"I bet," she replied with a small chuckle, recalling how they had to allow him to find Natasha before they could confront him. Logan turned to her a questioning gaze.

"And what the hell was that supposed to mean?" Jean sighed, knowing she probably just tested him.

"That I'm a telepath," she said. "I can read your mind and something tells me that wasn't the first time you've been out of it." She even put emphasis on the "out of it" portion of her statement and Logan didn't truly want to admit that she was right. Who the fuck did this woman think she was? She didn't know shit.

We weren't saying this when mate was saying these things, Wolverine griped and Logan really wished there was a way he could punch himself without looking like a fucking idiot.

Fuck up. And stop calling her that. She's not our fucking mate, Logan retorted and Wolverine chuckled darkly, reminding Logan of the images of them fucking the living daylights out of Natasha, of them kissing and holding her.

You were saying. Logan didn't reply. Instead, he gave Jean a quirky smirk, one that reminded her so much of Natasha that it was freaky.

"Well, since you know so much, why don't you go ahead and read my mind?" The suggestive look in his eyes made Jean blush, causing the little freckles on her face to come out more. And that was actually a cute sight to Logan and that said something.

Logan fucking hated freckles.

"I'd rather not," Jean replied quietly, feeling herself become shy for some odd reason. The last time she felt like this was when Scott had first told her she was the most gorgeous woman in his life and that he planned on marrying her someday. And that was what? Five years ago?

Besides, she recalled hearing Natasha speak in his head about his mind, about the past he couldn't – for some reason – remember. She wasn't as strong as the professor. If his thoughts and memories were as jacked up as Natasha said, Jean didn't even want to try to pry into that head.

Even though curiosity was eating the fucking out of her conscience.

"Is that your only power?" Logan was definitely interested. He had heard about Natasha's telekinesis; found out by that scheming witch girl that Tasha had telekinetically pushed Sabretooth with just her emotions. He didn't even want to think about what that girl could do when she was concentrated.

"I can move things with my mind," Jean explained, going ahead and placing Logan's old clothes on the neatly made bed. She was even faintly wondering if it was a good idea that Natasha's bedroom was just two doors down. Logan grinned and butterflies threw a bitch fit in her stomach.

God, where was Scott when you needed him?

Fuck that.

Where was Natasha? She was the one Logan really wanted.

"What kind of things?" Logan inquired and Jean blushed, recalling Scott asking the same question when they first started dating. Back then, her powers still weren't at a good capacity and he'd only been curious. But she showed him what she could move and she didn't even need to use her powers.

Without warning, the closet door and the bathroom door shut at the same time. Logan raised an eyebrow, impressed, and turned his eyes back to meet her playful ones.

"All kinds of things," Jean told him sultrily and Logan couldn't help but smirk. Maybe Red was fun. Scooter probably kept all of that to himself, he mused. Then Jean walked up to him and for a second, Logan thought she was coming on to him. "Speaking of moving things, I may not be as strong as the Professor, but I think I'm capable of moving two-hundred pounds of muscle and metal."

"Meaning what? I'm supposed to be scared?" Logan teased and Jean smirked before narrowing her eyes. Logan groaned, feeling pressure on his temples. While his body healed the attack every time, it seemed like there was a new wave of pain.

"It means that my sister isn't one of your little one-night-stands, Logan," Jean snapped and Logan fell to his knees, groaning. "You flirt with me because you know it gets under Scott's skin. Her…that's a different story and I won't presume to get in between you two. But, trust and believe." Jean leaned down to the man and whispered into his ear, "Hurt my sister. And I'll show you why they say to never fuck with redheads." Jean released his mind as she straightened and Logan let out a sigh of relief.

"Didn't think she was capable of getting hurt," he wheezed as Jean walked to the door. She turned to him and for that moment, Logan saw complete sadness and realized something.

Natasha was definitely a puzzle. She could be playful and hardcore and seductive. But the girl had serious baggage.

And he wasn't sure if he ever could hurt her.

Because Jean gave him a look of pure sadness and pain, her eyes telling him a story of heartbreak for the girl that would probably never tell him that story.

"You have no idea how wrong you are," Jean told him and walked out, closing the doors behind her.

X

"Damn," was all Natasha could get out as she stepped into the Danger Room. She almost dropped the six-pack at the sight, mouth going dry.

Logan was standing in the middle of the room wearing only those low-slung jeans of his that teased with the big V that led down to the probably gorgeous package underneath. Sure, Natasha had seen all of this before and practically drooled over it again. But she knew she'd react the same way each and every time she saw Logan's ripped body.

When they had been at the bar, Logan must have dried himself off because he hadn't been sweating. But, baby, now he was and good God! Whoever invented sweat was a fucking genius! Those muscles looked even sexier – if that was fucking possible – and the way those jeans hung on his hips made her heart race.

Logan had just been picking up his shirt when he smelled her coming, felt his entire body relax against his will at her presence. One whiff and he could feel Wolverine purring like a fucking bitch over her. Weren't wolves supposed to be a part of the dog family?

"See something you like, darlin?'" He teased when Natasha just stared at him, green eyes piercing him with the spark of lust. And Wolverine wanted so bad to respond to that lust. Natasha straightened herself almost immediately and closed the doors behind her.

"I guess," she joked and Logan smirked at her as she walked over to one of the doors to the locker room next door. There was a bench right outside and she placed the pack on it first before removing her leather jacket. She was still wearing what she had on earlier. "So, I hear that you worked out those poor kids an hour ago?"

"Yeah. Their training sucks. They have no technique," Logan spat, recalling how they couldn't even manage good teamwork skills. And this was the future of X-Men! What a fucking joke! Natasha grinned, removing her bracelets and placing them with her jacket.

"Well then, why don't you teach me a few things?" Warning signs went off in Logan's head and for once, he wanted to deviate from something. Him and Natasha alone in a room, both of them sweaty. He'd be stuck with her scent and her sweat and he didn't want to think about her groaning against him.

"You sure you don't wanna change, darlin?' I'd hate to accidentally rip that skirt," Logan said huskily, eyes trailing up and down her body slowly. Natasha wasn't sure if he'd "accidentally" rip her skirt. And she wasn't sure if she'd have a problem with him doing it either.

"Why? Afraid to get your ass kicked by a girl in a skirt?" She retorted and Logan narrowed his eyes at her challenging smirk. He rolled his neck slowly and flexed subtly, not ready to back down from a challenge like that.

"Game on, darlin.'" Natasha grinned as she stepped towards the center of the room. Once there, she tossed a smirk at Logan, beckoning him with a finger.

And Logan charged head-on, fully prepared for whatever she would throw. As soon as he was close enough, Natasha stuck out her hand to knock him down and was surprised when Logan grabbed her wrist, making her flip without warning and gasp in surprise. Luckily, Natasha landed on her feet.

She swung at Logan and he ducked, still gripping her right wrist. Smirking, Logan twisted her around until he had her right arm bent behind her back. He was pressed against her back intimately and didn't even stop himself from inhaling her sweet scent.

"Warned ya, darlin'." Natasha found herself leaning back without meaning to and her neck lulled to the left, allowing Logan to bury his nose into the crook of her soft, creamy neck. Accidentally, she let out a soft moan and Wolverine was practically howling, banging himself against the bars of his cage.

Focus.

Finally getting her mind together, Natasha swung her head back, catching Logan off guard. Once her wrist was released, she turned and punched Logan, impressing him because she hadn't hurt herself. He faintly wondered who the hell trained her.

Natasha landed another quick, surprising jab to Logan's jaw and swung her legs underneath Logan's and he fell on his back hard. Immediately, she was straddling him, skirt hiked up around her thighs and her right hand pressing into his throat. Logan gasped breathlessly and Natasha grinned toothily.

"For a big guy, you go down easily," she teased, hair framing her face and so close to Logan's face that each strand seemed to tickle his cheeks. He smirked before flipping them over, using all of his weight to effectively pin her down.

Even Natasha knew she wasn't getting out of this.

"And I thought you were supposed to be a psychic," he shot back and she chuckled, hair splayed about the metal floor. Logan stared down into those green eyes, which seemed so dark and deep and open.

It was so unnerving that it felt like she could see into his soul.

And even more so that he could almost see into hers.

Natasha frowned then, heart pounding against her ribcage. She didn't like this. Logan was staring at her all intensely and it was terrifying. The only person that was allowed to look at her like that was Jean and even Jean didn't do this. His eyes just seemed so…bottomless.

"St-stop," she whispered. Logan stared down at her still, inching closer to her face.

Wolverine didn't do relationships. They were too fucking emotional, too much of a hassle. They annoyed his soul and Logan usually agreed.

But he wasn't so sure with Natasha.

"I'm not doing anything that you don't want me to do," he replied lowly and he was so close, Natasha could smell the lingering scent of male body wash and cigar…

Jean cleared her throat at the door and both glanced up at her.

"I don't know if you two are aware, but we do have children who run through these halls and I'm pretty sure this would scar their eyes," Jean informed them and Natasha glanced down at their entwined bodies.

Logan lay comfortably in between her legs, one hand pinning her hip down. His other hand was on the ground, on the left of her face. Her skirt was hiked up to the extreme, almost broadcasting the red lace underwear she wore beneath it, revealing creamy thighs. They were pressed together so tightly as if they were one.

"Sorry about that, Red," Logan said sheepishly, climbing off of Natasha. "I was just teaching her a few things." Logan hadn't forgotten that Jean could kill his ass if he tried to play with her little sister.

Fucking with that psychic was definitely not on his agenda.

"Mhmm." Was the only reply he got out of Jean as she folded her arms over her chest, staring at them with a raised eyebrow. Logan pulled Natasha up by her hand, raising his own eyebrow when she retracted her hand quickly. Natasha refused to meet his eyes and Logan smirked.

Natasha was blushing.

"Well, get to bed. We're doing some research into Senator Kelly's disappearance and you might have to do some snooping on his jet," Jean told Natasha and she chuckled.

"Lucky me," she dragged out and Jean smirked, gave Logan one final warning look and walked out. Natasha exhaled deeply and Logan had the gall to laugh at her.

"You're blushing," Logan noted and Natasha shot him a dirty look.

"Fuck you," she snapped, grabbed her things and hurried out, leaving Logan chuckling to himself.

"Any time, darlin,'" he called behind her before grabbing his shirt. "Any time."

Oooooo

Marie rolled over on her bed, staring at the window. She was careful as to not wake up Natasha, who lay almost peacefully on the other side. It was rolling around midnight and she couldn't sleep. Natasha had checked up on her back at ten, sat and ate ice cream with her. They watched old episodes of Smallville, laughed at people's pain on America's Funniest Home Videos and fallen asleep talking about everything and nothing.

In only three days, Natasha had become the big sister she had never had.

But now Marie could only sit and think about home. Did her parents miss her? Did they even call the police and declare her missing? Did they even care? Or did they move on with their lives? Marie bit her lower lip at the thought, tears springing to her eyes. Sighing, she slid off the bed and onto her feet. Just as she was about to go get some tissue from the bathroom, she heard a groan followed by a louder one. They were filled with pain.

Logan was the first name that popped into her head.

When they first arrived to the mansion, the Professor had noted that Marie only felt safe and secure with Natasha and Logan. So, instead of immediately booking her with other classmates, he allowed her to have the room in between the two adults. They'd find her a roommate when she began to grow comfortable enough.

Marie glanced at a sleeping Natasha, watching the woman roll over in her sleep. Smiling at her a little, she tip-toed to the door and slipped out quietly. Unbeknownst to her, Natasha opened her eyes sleepily, feeling a change in the atmosphere.

Something bad was about to happen.

Marie opened Logan's door as quietly as she could, wincing when it let out a creak. Stepping inside, she gave Logan a sympathetic look. He appeared so wound up and almost haunted by something. His skin was drenched in perspiration and he kept letting out little grunts of pain. She walked over to the bed and sighed.

For all of his brute strength and aloofness, Logan looked so vulnerable now. Marie wanted that pain to go away, even if that meant waking him. So, with resolve, she reached over, fingertips barely hovering over his skin.

But then Logan awoke suddenly, unaware of who or what was near him, and startling Marie. She let out a sharp scream as his claws sunk into her chest, which had Natasha springing out of bed. Marie's eyes widened as Logan inhaled sharply, pain and guilt stabbing him in the chest.

"I-I-I…" He couldn't get nothing out, didn't know what to say. He'd been in one of those dreams

Quickly, he unsheathed his claws, watching the blood pool on her long-sleeved nightgown. Marie swayed, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

"Please!" Logan yelled. "Somebody help!" He reached out to Marie, not sure what to do. Slowly and limply, Marie reached out a hand and touched his face. Just like that, Logan felt like every ounce of strength in his body was taken. He felt older suddenly, weaker. Everything that he was was escaping his body and somehow entering hers. Marie could feel the skin and muscle mending themselves and gasped just as Natasha stormed into the room.

"Marie, let him go," Natasha cried and Marie dropped her hands and let out a cry, tears springing to her eyes as Logan dropped to the ground, barely breathing. Storm and Scott rushed into the room soon after, running straight to Logan. Marie faintly heard something about a faint pulse before being pulled back into Natasha's arms.

"Oh my God, did you see her?" Some random kid in the hallway asked and Rogue glanced back at all of them to see them all jump; some even scared enough to take a few steps away. With a sob, she buried herself in Natasha's arms, willing for the night to be over and Logan to wake up.