Author's note: Sorry about the delay in posting, y'all. RL kicked my butt this week. I'll do better. :) Onward!

"Logan?" Marie's question stopped his slow egress.

"Yeah, kid?"

"You ever been in one of these little alcoves with someone before?" When he hesitated, her eyes glittered with triumph. "The truth, straight up. No chaser." That was their deal. Up to a point, anyway. She was dying to know what he paid for behind those red doors upstairs, but one could only push the Wolverine so far.

"Yes," he said simply, hoping it would be enough. It wasn't. He could tell by the look on her face that it wasn't. "No details."

"Fine by me. I don't wanna know what you did with her." She giggled. "Or him," she teased. "Or them. Whatever." She waggled her brows at him.

"Fuck's sake," he growled, half annoyed and half amused at her playing.

Her nimble fingers dipped into the bowl of pretty sex aids and he felt a prickle of sweat begin to gather. The little foil wrappers gleamed like colorful bits of confetti between the bright packets of lubricant and other assorted items. She fingered them, lifting one from the bowl. "Hmm… coconut." Her eyebrow rose and she tossed it back in favor of another. "Cherry… well, that's fitting." It too rejoined the bowl. "Vanilla." That made her laugh. There was nothing vanilla about tonight. He saw her reach for a glow in the dark condom and huffed softly in exasperation.

"There a point here somewhere?"

"Just wondering if you used anything from this bowl of goodies, sugar."

The curtained alcove suddenly felt small and airless. She would ask him that, the minx. She clearly expected a reply if the look on her face was any indication. Her scent slid from nervous to the spicy tang of mischievousness. The silence grew longer, heavier and more oppressive.

Just when she didn't think he'd answer her, he leaned forward, his big hand sifting through the bowl until he found what he was looking for.

He pressed it into her fingers. The gold foil gleamed against the black of her glove, the words jumping out at her. Extra large. Ribbed. Lubricated. A second packet followed. Black and red this time. Deep Throat Mints: Wintergreen.

Her brazen confidence waivered as her knees went a little weak at the mental picture that pair of items suggested. Her mouth watered and everything went a little fuzzy around the edges.

"Breathe, kid."

She drew in a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly, giving him an unreadable look. He wondered if maybe he shouldn't have risen to her bait for about half a second until she grinned at him and tucked the condom inside the top of her green corset. "Always prepared. Isn't that what you taught me?" And damn her if she didn't wink at him before opening the mints and trying one.

"Jesus fuck, Marie."

"Mmmm…. tingly."

The cool wintery scent of wintergreen triggered that old memory and Logan struggled to keep it together. This place was too private. He needed a change of venue and a stiff drink. Soon.

"That's the general idea, darlin'."

Pursing her full lips, she sucked in a slow breath through her mouth, shivering at the cooling sensation on her lips and tongue. She could only imagine what that delicious tingling would be like on more sensitive body parts. "I can see why you liked it."

"Brat." He swatted her butt and grinned, amused by her antics. That night they'd both used the mints on each other first and the condom had followed for the penetrative sex afterwards, but that was one detail too far. He was already dancing all over the line and they hadn't even made it to the show yet.

Marie, however, seemed determined to obliterate the line entirely.

"Maybe I do want some details, sugar. You do owe me a sex story, after all."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep. From that night on your deck, remember? I told you all about David and Bobby and the stories I write..."

And the overpriced piece of silicone, his unhelpful mind supplied. Did she use it and think of him? Gasp and squeeze down on it and call out his name? Jesus.

"But I don't remember you givin' up any details in return."

She was right. His brain had pretty much stopped at 'I write erotica' and then she'd gone and had a soak in his tub and whatever he'd planned on saying in return had suddenly taken a back seat to visions of milky white skin and iridescent bubbles that covered nothing. Fuck all. His patience didn't extend to his fantasy life.

"Marie—" he warned.

"Cat got your tongue, sugar?"

"Mmph." Not a cat. A Rogue.

"Well, we know she was here…" she dropped to a crouch in front of him. Not exactly on her knees but close enough to ring his bell. She didn't touch him. She touched herself instead, running those gloved hands lightly along her sides and over her thighs. She actually had the audacity to blow him a cheeky kiss as she sucked in another deep breath to enjoy the minty tingle on her tongue. The scent of wintergreen spiced the air along with their growing arousal. "And given the other thing you pressed into my hand…"

Extra large. Ribbed. Lubricated. Her whole body shuddered.

Marie rose and faced him before putting a booted foot on the wall just outside his hip. His eyebrow rose. She giggled. "Hmm… maybe not. Maybe it was more like this…"

She slowly lowered her foot and then turned, presenting him with her back and then bending forward ever so slightly as she looked back at him mischievously over her shoulder.

Bared neck. Naked shoulders. Slender waist. The soft swell of her hips. Long legs encased in buttery soft suede. A feast for the senses.

The amused look had faded from his sharp features, replaced by a much more predatory expression. He was still silent, but his eyes were wild.

"That's it," she said softly. "That's how it was…" From behind with her face turned away from him so he could imagine another woman in her place.

He nodded. Once. The cozy little alcove suddenly felt much too small.

Jesus. She should know better than to present her ass to him like that. Swaying before him with that little shimmy that bypassed everything and went right to the primal part of his brain. Something in him snapped.

"Hands on the wall," he growled.

Her eyes were wide as dinner plates, but she complied with the raspy order instantly.

As she bent forward just that small distance, it put even more focus on her buttocks and hips. He bit his lip and tasted blood, hot and coppery on his tongue. The Wolverine surged against the chokehold keeping him chained.

He kicked her feet apart with his boot and stepped up behind her, still not touching her, but close enough that she could feel the heat and energy rolling off him in waves. He leaned in and put his hand on the wall above hers, caging her without so much as a single touch.

Like that. That's how it had been with the woman that night — her hands braced so he could go hard. One of his hands on the wall for leverage. The other on her hip to keep her right where he wanted. No words were necessary. Their respective positions said it all.

Marie met his eyes over her shoulder and they flashed gold at her, wild as she'd ever seen him. Shit. You didn't play around with someone with that much sexual energy and expect him to rein it in at a moment's notice.

She canted her neck to appease him, deference without submission, as she slowly pulled her hair to the side, revealing the mark he'd made before turning to face him. They stared at each other, breathing erratically as they both tried to calm the wildness in their blood.

"How many?" she teased to break the spell. Better for the moment to slide into something playful than something neither of them were really ready for. Not yet, but soon.

He blinked, slowly coming back to himself. "Partners or orgasms?"

She laughed at the crude question and flushed red. "Logan!"

"Heh." He waited while she gathered her courage to answer him. He knew she would. It didn't take long.

"Orgasms."

"Two." Just enough to take the edge off before he went upstairs and lost himself completely.

"Yours or hers?"

"Mine."

She was bright red now, but it didn't stop her from answering him back. "How many did she have?"

"Dunno," he said honestly. "Didn't count 'em."

She was momentarily struck mute by the stark honesty in his cavalier answer. "Well, that implies there were enough to lose track of at some point, so I'd say you made a decent showing, regardless. And God knows, I'll never look at wintergreen the same way again..."

He grunted and the expression on his face was priceless as she ducked under his outstretched arm.

"Hey, you shouldn't dare the Rogue, sugar." She turned and put her hand on the curtain. A firm hand on her hip stopped her slow retreat.

"Not so fast, darlin'." He shouldn't be doing this. He knew it and yet he couldn't seem to stop himself. "Your turn."

"My what?"

"You don't get an answer tonight without givin' one up in return." He gestured to the bowl. He'd told her what items he'd used. Now it was her turn.

"Oh, please. You know I've never—"

"Hell, darlin', I know 'you never'." Both their bodies were screaming that she'd 'never'. "You still owe me an answer, though."

"Is that right?" She was staring at him intently now.

"If you want any more outta me tonight, then yeah. That's the deal."

She thought that over.

"Alright. I'll play."

Good girl.

He nodded. Just once.

"Pick then."

"Pick?"

"If you felt like takin' a walk on the wild side, what wouldya pick to play with?" Between them, the bowl gleamed with possibilities.

"Sugar, anyone who would even consider being up close and personal with my skin is already walkin' on the wild side, but fair is fair, after all..."

Logan grunted at that and crossed his arms over his chest while he waited for her to inspect the contents of the bowl.

"Stubborn," she giggled, looking over at his scowl.

"Deflectin'," he shot back, frowning as he watched her pick up a small packet of edible body glitter.

"No?"

"Fuck no."

"The Wolverine doesn't glitter?"

That shit not only got everywhere, it tasted bad too. But he wasn't about to admit that. Not only was it oversharing, but her clever mind would find a way to use it against him eventually.

He said nothing, but she enjoyed the little tic in his jaw all the same.

"I was only kidding about the glitter. This is more my speed, sugar." She fingered a small tin of honey dust, tickling her cheek with the feather included for applying it. He should have guessed. She'd always had a bit of a thing for feathers. Her skin was extremely sensitive. He'd always just thought she liked the feel of them. What he'd seen as a sensual quirk of hers was rapidly becoming sexual.

She gave her cheek one last stroke before pressing it into his palm with a blush that went all the way down.

God, he loved her brazen sass when that side of her came out to play. "S'got potential." He gave her an appraising look. "That it?"

In answer to his amused taunt, she was tempted to pull a condom from the strip of three she knew he carried in his pocket, but she thought better of it the last minute.

"And this, of course." Her eyes flashed playfully as she fished the gold foil packet she'd tucked into her cleavage a moment ago and pressed it back into his fingers.

He chuckled at her sheer audacity. The foil was warm from her body, redolent with her scent. Logan repressed a shudder. He could feel the warmth between his long fingers and the urge to press it against his lips was strong.

"Mmph."

Her eyes widened as he slipped the condom and the honey dust into his pocket with a wink instead of tossing them back into the bowl.

"Well now, cowboy. What's a girl supposed to make of that, I wonder?" The Rogue's sassy smile lit up her face.

"Heh." He tweaked her ponytail. "Nothin'. Girls don't get a say. Women, however…" His breath whooshed out as she elbowed him in the ribs.

They laughed, but they were both aware that was part of the underlying tension between them. She was in that no man's land; not really a girl, but not fully a woman either. Marie understood that youth and fertility had power and that men, especially men with heightened feral instincts, responded strongly to it. She was twenty-one, not seventeen.

He was the father she'd lost. The big brother she'd never had. The best friend she'd desperately wanted. The safe harbor she'd needed. The only one who wasn't afraid to get close to her, emotionally or physically. That was a lot to risk for two people who had pretty pathetic track records, romantically speaking.

The spark had always been there, from the first moment in Laughlin City. It was still there, but now it felt different. Exciting instead of just scary and uncomfortable.

They were standing together on the edge.

Logan opened the curtain and they pushed off into flight.

Up next: Dancing in the Dark. From the alcove to the West Chamber. Or maybe that should be from the frying pan into the fire? Logan and Marie settle in for the show…