Logan and Marie were mid way to the elevators when the blue door opened and half a dozen young men came through it, raucous, wild and more than a little drunk. Two of them ogled Marie obviously, but only one was stupid enough to stop and hit on her. She instantly moved a step closer to Logan and he was a little surprised. She hadn't done that in years. Not since her first semester of combat training. That she did so now made him very aware how unsure of herself she was.

She could handle herself competently in a simulated war zone, co-pilot the Blackbird, and kick some serious Brotherhood ass with a sparkle in her eye and a steady confident hand, but this? Intimacy and open sexuality? All of it was new enough to her to throw her pretty good. Part of him liked it, while another part of him was realizing how very much further she had to go before she'd be ready for someone with his carnal appetites.

"Hey, sweet thing. You look good enough to eat. You wanna dump the old man and come upstairs with me? I'll show ya a real good time. I bet a sweet little thing like you tastes better'n honey." He made a rude gesture with his tongue. Clearly one of the boys had a death wish.

The snarl was out before Logan could stop it.

"Jesus, dude. Are you growling? What the fuck?"

Marie looked the young punk up and down, bolstered by the firm, solid hand at the small of her back. "First of all, that's not how you talk to a lady. You can keep that nasty talk to yourself. Second, it would take an act of God to pry me away from him tonight. And third, you don't have near enough miles on you to be remotely interesting to me, or any other self-respecting woman. Maybe in twenty years — after you've learned some dadgum manners." Her tone implied his knowledge of women was painfully inadequate in other areas, too. She turned back to Logan. "You ready, sugar?"

"Sure am." Logan could feel his lips twitch as he looked over at the little fuckwit who was still reeling from the sharp side of her tongue. Logan had been on the business end of it many times. Marie was a passionate, volatile woman. It packed a punch, for damn sure. "Beat it, bub."

He turned his back on the boys. The dismissal was plain, even at six-to-one odds. That he dared to do it earned their grudging respect. He was proud of Marie for standing up for herself. It had been a long damn time since she'd needed him to fight her battles, though he could feel her trembling and her scent was somewhere north of acutely embarrassed, tempered with a healthy dose of pissed.

"You can keep her, pops." Stupid punk was whining to his friends and mouthing off. Loudly. "Man, what a cunt." Marie felt Logan tense at her side. "But maybe that's his thing, huh guys? Fucking bratty little Lolitas. I wonder how old she was the first time she sucked his dick?"

Shit.

Logan turned around. The slow movement was wholly predatory.

Shit-Shit-shit!

"Sugar?" She put a hand on his arm.

"S'fine, darlin'. Just be a minute."

Willow was moving from behind the counter now, but not fast enough.

"I'd tell ya you owe the lady an apology, son, but she ain't done nothin' bad enough to deserve talkin' to you again. You shoulda listened to her. She ain't wrong."

"The fuck she's not," he slurred. He was clearly inebriated enough to not quite recognize the danger he was in. His friends did, and were making a real effort to drag him out. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, you dirty old bastard."

"That right? Well, one of us is goin' home to rub one out under his mama's roof and one of us is goin' upstairs with the hottest woman who ever walked inta this place. I'd say someone knows what he's doin' and it sure as hell ain't you, boy." Enraged by the unvarnished truth, the young punk got away from his friends and threw a wild punch. Logan caught it in his fist, tweaked a pressure point and the kid went down like a ton of bricks, screaming like a little girl. "I don't remember givin' you permission to touch me, bub."

Across the room, Marie smiled. He put people down in his self defense class like that all the time. Perhaps not with that much force or enjoyment, but he wasn't at all out of control. Marie relaxed and let herself enjoy it a little more. It wasn't often one got to witness karmic retribution in action.

Willow's heels clicked to a halt just beside the shocked group of boys who were apologizing profusely and trying to drag their fallen buddy away.

"Willow, honey? You need any help takin' out the trash?"

"Thank you, no." The scent of ozone was strong as her body phased from flesh to a being of luminous energy. Well, that was one question answered. Logan could feel the electrical charge tingling in his bones and took a step back, releasing the now whimpering boy into Willow's less-than-tender care. She reminded him of one really big taser. Goddamn. That sure was something, though he had too much metal in him to really appreciate the beauty of it. "Please accept our deepest apologies for this inconvenience." Her voice was different now, a resonant hum that set his teeth on edge. "Consider your evening on the house and I assure you the offending party will be dealt with so this never happens again."

"Fair enough."

Logan turned back around. Marie was waiting where he'd left her, rooted to the spot as she watched him approach. "Um. Thanks?" The hottest woman who'd ever walked in here? Surely he hadn't been serious.

"No problem."

"I'm a little surprised you didn't, you know..." she moved her hand in a way he understood was meant to mimic the way he released his claws.

"Nah. Not worth it. He's just a drunk asshole who needed a lesson in how to talk to a lady." Though if this had happened last week when she'd smelled ripe and ready to take his seed, there probably would have been a pretty decent chance he'd have stuck that little fucker good. He knew his limits.

"You know, when I was thinking of this night getting my blood pumping, it wasn't quite like this..."

A chuff of amusement escaped his lips. "We'll get there." The look he gave her made her knees weak.

Logan saw her eyes swing to the blue door. "What is that place?"

"The kiddie pool."

"What?"

"This place has five floors, darlin'. This floor is just a regular club. That's where Willow sends the dipshits and the babies who are too wet behind the ears to go upstairs. It probably has some kinda real name, but that's how I think of it."

"Ouch."

"Yep." His tone said he didn't have much sympathy for anyone who fell into either category.

"What about the other floors?"

"Well, I ain't supposed to tell ya, but I've never been real good at followin' rules." His knuckles stroked the small of her back. It should have scared her but instead she moved into the unconscious touch. "The second floor is for the live shows."

"Live shows?"

"Dancin'. Strippin'. Touchin'." He moved closer, putting his lips by her ear, not because he was embarrassed, but because he knew she'd be more comfortable. "Fuckin'." He all but purred the word in her ear and his eyes warmed as he saw her shiver.

"And-and the others?"

"Third floor's a buncha open little rooms with everythin' under the sun happenin' at any given time. Clothin' is optional and you can watch or participate as the spirit moves ya." Her eyes were really round now. "The fourth floor is like the third, except it's just one huge space instead of a lotta small rooms."

"Like- like an orgy?"

He thought about that a minute. "Maybe a buncha little orgies, yeah."

"And the fifth floor?"

"All private rooms with red doors."

"What's behind the red doors, sugar?"

His teeth flashed. "Anythin' you can imagine and afford to pay for, darlin'."

"That's where you like to go?"

He met her eyes. "Yes."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Do ya always gotta push?"

She rolled her eyes. "You knew going into this I'd have a million questions."

"Not before we even got in the elevator." That made her laugh. "All the rooms have themes," he finally offered. Not cheezy, overdone theatrics. They were top shelf, high class all the way down to the last perfectly recreated detail.

"Which one do you like? Let me guess... Graceland? Hunka-hunka-burnin' luuurve with red velvet and sequins? Disco glam with a big sparkly ball, gold lamé curtains and mirrors on the ceiling, circa 1970's Vegas?"

"Jesus." He rolled his eyes. "That the best you can do?"

"Deflecting. But how 'bout Camelot? Arabian nights? Gothic? Egyptian tomb? Some Neanderthal's dirty cave, all primal and wild with a fire pit and a pile of furs? Sex dungeon with carabiners in the ceiling a la Fifty Shades?"

Something glinted in her eyes. Interesting.

"Fifty what?"

"I'll tell you later," she teased and he laughed aloud as they stood in front of the elevators. "You're really not gonna tell me?"

"The Nagasaki Room," he said quietly. Some people thought the name in poor taste. He disagreed. He'd lived it. He should know. He went there to break himself, from ash to serenity and back again.

"Oh." It wasn't at all what she'd expected.

"You owe me an answer now, kid. What room would you pick?"

Marie was suddenly aware of what a personal question she'd just asked. "Um..."

An exact replica of his room at the school, that first night she'd tried to wake him from his dark dreams. Only this time she'd like it to end differently, without a chest full of adamantium, but still with some part of him thrust deeply inside her.

"Still waitin'."

He clearly wasn't going to go anywhere until she told him what he wanted to know. She passed on her first choice because there was no way she was going to tell him that. "Hmm…." What to say?

"Lies have a distinctive stink."

Damn the man. He was always two steps ahead. She skated as close to the truth as she dared.

"The cave," she said softly, feeling a sweeping flush move down her neck and chest as she pictured his bearskin rug. Entwined with him on a thick pile of furs before a fire; a primal joining, sweat-slicked skin under her fingertips and his taste in her mouth.

That was not at all what he'd expected. A bolt of heat struck him powerfully hard, touching off something better left buried. He felt the Wolverine rattle the bars and he glanced over at Willow, who had returned to the front counter. She was out of earshot but still watching them with those curious, pale eyes.

Not trusting himself to speak, he extended a finger toward the keypad.

"Logan, wait."

"What?"

"I wanted to look at the sculptures first, if that's okay?" It didn't surprise him in the least. She loved art and had dragged him to museums several times over the years.

"Sure, kid." He let out a deep breath, glad to have things move onto safer ground. He needed to stop thinking about her milky skin in the flickering light of the fire while he covered her like an animal, rutting between her slim thighs until she called out his name. He forced himself back to the present.

The two pieces of art couldn't have been more dissimilar. One was a beautiful Chihuly, rose-tinged-pink rippling glass in overlapping waves, like an opening flower or a seashell. It was smooth and glossy, slick enough that it looked wet. So many words came to mind when she looked at it. The sea, flowing... wet...open...a pearl... lips...

Logan watched her watch the sculpture, aware the exact moment she realized what it was. A woman in her pleasure, folds slick and open. A female orgasm. The brass plaque under it read: The Flower.

"Oh..."

He heard her soft intake of breath and smiled.

The other was a tall spike of metal, somewhere between the Eiffel Tower and the Empire State Building. It was modern; abstract and wild, an amalgamation of various oxidized metals, painstakingly fused into an angry structure that looked like one solid piece rising well above their heads but was really composed of tens of thousands of tiny spikes of metal. Nails. Construction refuse. Pens. Ice picks. Rebar. Snips and slivers of other projects. Knives. Saw blades. Drill bits. knitting needles. Screwdrivers. It had welding spatter on it; drops and dribbles of melted metal that were suggestive of another kind of splatter entirely. It even smelled metallic and sharp, like that strange sensation of licking a dime. The plaque read: The Spire.

Marie was very aware that Logan was watching her.

The meaning had been clear to him since the first time he'd stepped into the Lobby a few years back, but he'd never taken the time to look that closely at the art until now.

"You know what it is, darlin'?"

"An erection," she whispered, barely audible enough for even his acute hearing to catch it.

"A cock," he said, his voice low and husky. "You can say it." Her blush went all the way down and he didn't think he'd ever get tired of watching that.

"Logan!" she chided softly.

He moved them back a step so they could see the sculptures together. "Both together, see? Soft and hard. They both change. One grows thicker, harder, more intrusive. The other gets softer, wetter, more receptive."

Her eyes were wide and round. It wasn't exactly new information, but he'd never talked to her like that before.

If this was a taste of the evening to come... Marie closed her eyes and her whole body shuddered slightly with embarrassment and pleasure. The hand he had at her back pressed more firmly, steadying her for a moment before he moved away.

"S'nature. Yin and Yang. The perfect complement."

"Excuse me." A handsomely dressed couple stepped between them, eying them curiously as the female punched in the code and the light flipped from red to green. The man grabbed the grill. Logan was surprised that he'd been so caught up in Marie's reaction that he hadn't even heard them approach. "I do hate to interrupt her lesson, but shall we hold it for you?" Both of them had their eyes on Marie, not lewdly, but definitely with a prurient attentiveness.

"We'll catch the next one," Logan said pulling her close.

"Such a pity, isn't it, darling? That blush is delicious." The man nodded and the grill clanged shut before the elevator rose out of sight.

"Oh my God!" Marie's scandalized tone made him want to laugh. "They were..."

Interested.

"They sure were, baby."

Marie looked from the Flower to the Spire and back to Logan again. The word cock rolling off his tongue was still echoing in her brain. "I'm pretty sure that my blood's pounding for the right reason now."

"Same here."

They stared at each other for long minutes, saying nothing. Just watching and feeling the tide turn.

Finally, she gave the smallest nod.

He reached for the keypad.

Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she looked him up and down. "Going up, sugar?"

Christ, she'd always been a little vixen.

His eyes glittered back. "What'd I tell ya about callin' a man on it, baby?"

That she shouldn't do it unless she was prepared for him to do the same. Oh, God.

She was suddenly very aware of the weight and power in his body as he crowded her slightly before growling, "Marie, darlin'? Get in..."

Up Next: Love Bites. Logan stops the elevator between floors to get a few things straight with Marie. The Wolverine decides to add his two cents… and down the rabbit hole they go.