Logan felt Marie tense under his palm as they stepped from the elevator into the club. The atmosphere was dark and womb-like, lit indirectly with warm amber lights that cast deep chocolate shadows in the long hall. Music pumped around them, competing - yet strangely harmonious sounds - from the East and West chambers. Everywhere the scent of spice. Arousal colored everything. People in twos and threes and little clusters, talking and drinking and laughing. Aside from the exotic scent and the electric presence of the feral man at her side, at first blush it seemed quite similar to one or two of the other upscale clubs she'd been to with Jubes and Remy.

Or it was until a striking woman passed by. She was wearing a glittering collar, black satin toe shoes with a red sole, and nothing else. It was her transparent iridescent wings that held Marie's attention, more so than the small breasts with dark nipples and her strangely faceted eyes. And the fact that there was a handsome, swarthy man holding the end of her leash. It appeared to be made from the same black satin ribbon that bound her toe shoes to her lithe legs. Logan looked twice too and felt his lip quirk into a grin. He expected to find the same look on Marie's face and was surprised to see a much different expression reflected there.

"Kid?"

"I think I need a drink," she said woodenly, half wondering if she might also need a paper sack to breath into. She was standing at the edge of the abyss.

"You okay?"

Their eyes met.

Marie shook her head. "No."

Logan was a little surprised by her reaction. There was a sliver of disappointment, too. But tonight was not about him. He pushed it down deep. He'd expected the Rogue to come out of the elevator swinging, chin high and blazing like a lioness on the hunt. He had not expected a hesitant, wide-eyed Marie. Frankly, he'd expected more and he mentally adjusted his expectation of the evening downward a few notches as he guided her into one of the many cozy, private alcoves lining the hall.

Her scent jacked up as she noticed a glass bowl tucked discretely away into a niche in the wall. It was lit softly from below and held colorful assortment of condoms in all varieties, individual packets of lubricant and other random goodies, from massage oil to finger cots, ready for whatever the occupants of this small space might imagine to do to each other.

"You wanna go?" he asked softly, wondering how smart it was to have brought her here to begin with. She was a good kid and a nice girl. He should have known better, but she was also the Rogue; a wild young woman on the threshold of understanding the vast power her ripening sexuality would bring. This might be a little advanced for her now, but he knew her better than anyone. Someday the untouchable girl before him would appreciate what he'd tried to give her here tonight.

Leave? "No." She swallowed, nervously fidgeting with the seam on her glove like she did when she was really wound up about something. He knew her tells. "I just…."

"Too much?"

"No. Not really." Her voice grew softer. "I… I like it…" The sensual vibe, the open sexuality, the shameless hedonism of it all. She approved. Heartily.

That had his brows jumping halfway up his face.

"It's just…." She took a deep breath. "I'm scared."

Most people would have tried to placate her with hollow words. You'll be fine. You'll like it. Just give it a chance. Logan touched the shiny fall of her ponytail instead, his eyes intent on hers. That spark of awareness was between them like always, making things even more awkward.

"Scared'a what?"

He was surprised when she slid her arms around him and hugged him, resting her cheek against his broad chest like a child. It was sweet rather than sexual and spoke to the deep trust between them. He liked it, even though made him more uncomfortable than an overt pass would have. He was not her father. He understood she'd needed that feeling of safety and security from him for a long time, but things had been changing for a while now. They were at the edge of something that shook them both. He suspected it was that, rather than anything she'd seen, that had her trembling against him.

"Come on, darlin'. Talk." He hugged her tighter, tucking her head under his chin.

"I feel weird."

"Weird how?"

"Like I should be worried that I'll do or say something embarrassing or that I won't like what I see or hear…. or find out about myself tonight," she felt him squeeze her gently at that soft admission, "Or that you won't like it, either." He opened his mouth to protest but she stopped him with a touch. "But it's not really any of that."

"No?"

"No. Mostly I'm just worried tonight will change things between us…. and not in a good way."

Another man might have said: It won't. Logan spoke the truth instead. "You can't be a kid forever. Little girls grow up. Things are gonna change. Ain't no way around that." That she'd asked him to take her here tonight told him she was as ready for things to change as he was, even if the change made them both uncomfortable. "But whatever you find out, whoever you turn out to be when you're done figurin' this shit out, you'll always be my Marie."

She didn't lift her head from his chest. "You promise?"

"Yeah. I promise." He felt her smile against his chest and knew she was thinking about that night on the train too. "How you feel about sex ain't gonna change that." It was just a side of her he didn't yet know. Maybe he'd never know it. Maybe it was enough to help make it safe for her to know it for herself. He'd promised to take care of her and he intended to do that until this stupid body of his finally gave up its last breath.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if that included her wanting sex with him, but she chickened out at the last moment. "Your Marie?" she asked. "What does that even mean?"

"Means you're mine to take care of, like I said."

He felt her face fall a little before she pasted on a bright smile and pulled away from him. She was profoundly grateful for however he wanted to be in her life. "Thanks, sugar." Not many people had men like him in their lives. Friendship and loyalty that was deeper than blood. They had a visceral, intimate bond that defied explanation. Why wasn't that enough? She should be more appreciative instead of wishing he wanted a different kind of connection with her.

Logan caught her arm before she could step from the privacy of the curtained alcove to the more public environment of the club, and moved closer to her. The energy crackled anew between them and this time it wasn't at all paternal.

He could still taste her – could still feel the wild burn of the Wolverine in his blood. It was difficult to shunt him aside. She needed to talk now and that part of him simply wanted to put his hands on her ass, drag her to him and rub that sweet wet place against his crotch until she understood the inescapable truth in a way no words could ever drive home.

More maddening still, he could tell she heard the wild call in her blood, too.

She had answered him. It was in the slight deference in way she stood. The tilt of her head. The subtle arch of her spine. The flutter of her fingers. The welcome in her intoxicating scent. It was there in her very breath. The cadence changed for him, sweet tremulous expectation. And, Christ, that sound she made when he put his mouth on her… Her body cried out to him. Nature demanded an answer. Every part of her screamed she was ready… and yet, still, she hesitated.

He heard that, too. And so he pushed aside his need. She needed his understanding now, and his guidance rather than his passion.

"Hey, you don't gotta make that face. It ain't like that." It wasn't obligation he felt. It was love. He still wasn't sure what kind, but that's what it was. It couldn't be anything else. "There's lotsa ways to take care of someone, kid." Physically. Emotionally. Sexually...

That got her attention.

"You changing the deal on me?"

Logan huffed in amusement. "That deal's been changin' since day one."

"It has?"

"Sure." He'd always tried to give her what she needed. As she'd changed through the years, so had that connection and the things he was willing to do - or not do - for her. "Nothin' stays the same forever. All anyone can do is roll with it."

"Is that what tonight's about?"

"Mosta it is about you. I wantcha to get what you need outta tonight. Have fun. Go a little crazy. Give me a hard time. Whatever. But some of it's about that, yeah." And some of it was about him. About what he needed.

"Defining new boundaries?" God, he was so close. She could feel his body heat and smell the tobacco on his skin. Nobody ever willingly stood this close to her. Not with this much skin exposed. It made her very aware of the bite on the back of her neck. And of the slick wetness between her legs.

"Somethin' like that."

"Like what," she whispered breathlessly.

His low chuckle broke the spell. "Dunno. I have no fuckin' idea how this night's gonna end." That was the pure, unvarnished truth.

"Me either." She punched his arm. "But that's half the fun, right?"

Logan rolled his eyes. "If you say so."

"But you're saying you're up for it if things change a little?"

He grunted. "Letcha on the bike, didn't I?"

"You did."

"That not clue you in?"

"Oh!" There went her eyes again, wide as saucers.

"Relax, darlin'. Tonight we're just two friends out for a good time." This situation was rapidly getting out of hand. He wanted things to change, sure, but not all in one night and he didn't want her to have any expectations that would lead to disappointment later. "Baby steps, huh? This night is not gonna end up behind a red door for either of us." Even if she wanted it, the Wolverine was much too close to the surface.

The Rogue twinkled at him from behind her eyes. "Your loss, sugar."

"Mmph."

Marie understood what he'd left unsaid there and she was glad. She was excited he was ready to let her grow up a little, but she wasn't remotely ready for things to change so much so fast. Right now it was enough to know that he'd still be there for her no matter what happened tonight. Nothing had been settled between them, and she was still nervous as hell about what this night might bring... but now it felt good, exciting instead of like a hard lump in her stomach.

She gave a little shimmy. "It doesn't matter to me anyway, sugar."

"Yeah?"

"I said I wanted a cave and furs by the fire." Her eyes flashed at him. "Last I checked, caves don't have red doors…"

"Jesus," he muttered, shaking his head and reaching for the curtain. She wasn't the only one who could use a drink.

"Where you goin', cowboy?"

It was the tone in her words that stopped him rather than the words themselves.

"Waterin' hole." He didn't really want to lose the taste of her from his mouth, but he needed something bracing to help chain his slipping control.

She giggled. "Uh-uh. I'm not done with you yet…"

"That right?" He liked her sexy, playful tone all too much. He turned to face her, even though he knew he shouldn't.

"Why don't you take your hand off that curtain and find out?"

Up next: Nothin' but a Good Time. Condoms. Body glitter. Honey dust. The Rogue is curious. The Wolverine's not giving up any intimate details unless he gets some in return...