Title: Logan Returns: A Solution To Boredom
Author: Sare Liz Gordy
EMAIL: TeknoVamp@yahoo.com

Archive: Email me and it´s yours
Disclaimer: Not only do they not belong to me, this fic was entirely Logan's fault. He practically hung over my shoulder while I was writing at the graduate library. It was daunting. I hope he's satisfied.
Author's Note: Again with the weird non-sequels. It's continuous with 'Logan Returns', and it's not. If that confuses you, feel free to email me and I'll do my best to better explain it. This part originally took place only days after his return and was the part after 'Box of Twenty', if you care to know.

*****

Okay, so I'd only been around for a couple of weeks, but did the kid own any clothes that didn't cover her entirely? Not that I'm trying to be a lecher, but people her age are wearing clothes that cut off at all sorts of odd places, right? So, wouldn't she at least want to wear them, if only in private? Wouldn't that be normal?

Alright, so I'm getting the impression that Marie rarely acts her age, but sometimes it looks like she really wants to, and hell - clothes are important to women, aren't they? I know I sure wouldn't mind seeing her in one of those little halter-top things and a pair of cutoffs. I think she'd be damn near irresistible in it, and it's not like I'd let anyone get within spitting distance of her, hell no.

So, I wonder how I can wing it without looking like a pansy-assed little fool.

Of course. Perfect. Well, maybe perfect. Hell, I could try, couldn't I? And if I was a complete and miserable failure, then the only one who would know that would be Marie, and she's the only one who already does know. I'm sure Scott has his pet theories, but only Marie has my concrete proof in her head, but enough of that.

To proposition Marie I needed to find her, dammit. We'd parted ways at dinner, me needing a cold shower and to think, and then maybe a cold shower again, her to do whatever she does when she's not with me or the Jubilee Company. And that left me where?

Grinning under the needle spray of cold shower number one, for once not feeling it at all.

They always say you find what you're looking for the last places you look, but that's stupid ain't it? Soon as you find it, you stop looking.

I stopped looking at Marie's door.

She was in there, I could smell her. As I raised my hand to knock I heard her voice and if I hadn't been trying so damn hard not to grin all over myself at my plan and trying to find her I probably would have broken out into grins a-fresh.

But I didn't.

Manly Logan, prowling around Xavier's mansion, spoiling for a fight, that's who I was. A fight… sure. Well, I heard on the news one time some lady reporter talking how sex and violence were so closely related, so maybe me looking like I wanted to brawl wasn't so very off target.

Yep, that was me, manly Logan, wanting to break out into smiles over a slip of a girl knowing I was at her door before I knocked, calling for me - in the sweetest voice I ever heard - to come on in.

That Logan.

"Hey," I said, closing the door behind me and leaning against it, real casual. She raised her eyebrow, like she knew what I was up to, but she couldn't - I'd only just come to the brilliant idea and under a damn cold shower. I wasn't sure I woulda thought of it otherwise and I was sure she hadn't taken a similarly cold shower. Considering it, I was pretty sure I was in the clear. And even if she did know? So what. I'm transparent to Marie. Worse things could happen, I'm sure.

"Hey yourself, Logan," and the way she drawled my name I had to fight the shiver up my spine. Damn, man - get a hold of yourself. You can't come apart at the seams this soon. When the night's over and you've tucked her in and you're back under the cold water maybe, but not until.

I crossed my arms against my chest and leaned back against the door, settling in. My voice was a little more gruff than I'd intended, but hey, it was steady. Small miracles.

"Whatcha up to?"

"Readin'. Chillin' out. You?"

"I'm bored," I lied, knowing she might see through me, but not really caring. It was a pretense and a lot of people can see through 'em, even those who can't sniff out lies like us. Fact of the matter was, I was damn near hyper inside. Or, as excited as I can remember being and these days I can remember a hell of a lot more than I used to. Upto and including quite a bit of the mental training I'd gotten on the other side of the world which is why my heart was slowed to normal instead of beating as fast as it wanted to.

"Well now," she said, putting her novel aside and smiling at me as she tucked her legs up beside her in the chair. "Boredom is a terrible affliction - what *shall* we do?"

"Game a' pool?" I suggested gruffly, raising an eyebrow.

"The mansion doesn't have a pool table, Logan. …ah. Okay."

Bar, I bet she was thinking. Good girl. She thought about the idea for a minute and then uncurled herself, stretching as she got up.

"Why not?" She came closer to me and the door and I came away from it a little, like I was about to open it, but looked her up and down first. I plastered a look on my face like I was concentrating.

"You gonna wear that?" It almost killed me to see her crestfallen face, but I was hopefully about to make it better, so here goes nothing.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearin'?" she asked, looking down at her dark slacks with those big commando-type pockets that looked so out of place on civilian clothing.

"Nothin'. 'Cept you're all covered up." Come on, baby, come on…

She breathed again and rolled her eyes and I knew she wasn't mad at me.

"And for good reason, or have you forgotten why I wear gloves?" she asked, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers at me. I leaned a little and caught one and my thumb rubbed her knuckles as she took a few little steps closer so neither of us had to lean anywhere.

"Relax," I murmured, still holding her hand, still rubbing the back of it. "I won't let anyone get near you." Ever. Not if I can help it.

"Relax," Marie repeated back at me ruefully, then closed her eyes, gently at first then tighter. Her jaw was working - clenching then unclenching and after a minute of silence her hand squeezed mine as tears leaked slowly behind closed lids.

"Hey, hey…" Without letting go I pulled her to me and her free arm wrapped around my waist and her face hid in my chest. I whispered silly calming things into her hair and just held her for a minute till I thought she really was calm. Then I held her a little more.

"You okay, darlin'?"

She sighed and leaned back a little so we were more or less on the same level, looking each other in the eye.

"Ah'm fine, Ah think. It's just," she paused, sighed, then continued. "It's been a long time since anybody invited me to actually relax like that. It's been even longer since Ah have."

"So," I said, my hand still holding hers, still rubbing hers, "You gonna?"

She smiled and my heart tripped over itself.

"Ah cain't, Logan. I don't even have clothes like that."

I hadn't actually thought of that possibility before, though I supposed I should have. It was about then, right when I was feeling damn foolish that I looked over and saw a yellow housecoat draped over the second bed in the room. There's only one person in the mansion that I've noticed taking to wearing yellow at all hours, and that would be one Jubilation Lee, fashion maven.

"And Jubilee?"

"Ah cain't do that."

"You think she'd mind?"

"Only if we didn't take pictures."

I grunted. That could be arranged. In the meantime I kept hold of Marie's hand and dragged her over to her roommate's closet. I opened it up and just sorta stared into while Marie started going through the dresser next to me. Thankfully she did find something before I was actually called upon to suggest one of an array of … well, let's just say I was lost.

"How 'bout this one, Logan?" Marie held up a blue t-shirt to her torso.

"It's a t-shirt," I replied disdainfully, hoping for something I could see her stomach in. Of course, it's her stomach, and if she don't feel comfortable showing it off to the general public, I'd understand that too. I'd be hell and gone disappointed, but I'd understand.

In the end she rolled her eyes at me. I think she imagined I was making a comment on the t-shirt as a fashion statement.

"Is this better?" She held up a dark green shirt with microscopic sleeves and a hem that couldn't possibly reach her waist, so I grinned.

"Do you like it?"

"Do I get to wear gloves?"

"If you want."

"Then I like it. Now what about the bottom? A skirt?"

Not that I wouldn't like to see her in a skirt, but we were taking the motorcycle, so felt like I had to give her fair warning. Her response surprised me, her looking all world weary and rolling her eyes again.

"Well, I suppose if the skirt's short enough it won't really matter, now will it?"

She had me there. Boy did she have me there.

I turned my back as she changed into the black mini skirt and her green top, and idly wondered what I was getting myself into.

"Logan… Ah cain't wear this out. Ah feel nekkid."

"Well, yea, but are you?"

"No."

I turned around and just about lost it. Damn she's pretty.

"You look good, Marie."

"Yea?"

"Yea." She sighed and smiled a little before going off to find matching gloves. She disappeared into the bathroom and I realized I'd left a particularly handy gift from Charles in my room. I called out to her that I'd meet her in the garage, that she should come down as soon as she was finished.

I was sitting there on the motorcycle with my brand-spanking new soft as sin gloves on, waiting for my Marie to get her cute ass down so we could go play pool. I should have known it wasn't gonna take her the minute she'd promised in the bathroom. So being I was me, my mind got to wandering.

And I got to thinking how she'd dreamed about me.

Okay, so if you'd asked me before if that sort of thing was likely to happen I woulda said yea, but I guess I didn't really think about it in practice. I took a minute then and thought about all the things I could remember dreaming of lately and not-so-lately, all the things I'd wanted to dream about. I thought about how the fantasies had gotten a little more frequent and a little more specific and how the nightmares had gotten a little less frequent, but still a little more terrible now that I had more information to add to them.

But at the moment, all that mattered to me right then was that she'd dreamed about me.

On this motorcycle.

Really, it leads to thoughts that get the blood pumping, and if it weren't for the fact that while I'm definitely on the seducing road that leads to Marie, I'm trying desperately to go the speed limit, and fuck it - it's really not working out that way. Not with the thought of us fucking like… How'd she put it? Wild crazy monkey sex? Right on this here bike, the smell of pine and wild flowers and Marie in heat surrounding me.

I have to say, it's quite a fantasy to start out with. Just as well we hadn't switched dreams last night. I'm not so sure how Marie would have reacted to my little cage fightin' fantasy. No, not very sure at all.

"Hey there, handsome - how do I look?" I snapped out of my haze and realized she was close and I hadn't even noticed. Damn. I craned my neck around so I cold look and give her as honest an opinion as I could, considering that even I knew what a loaded question that could be.

Of course, one look and I realized I wouldn't have to lie, not even a little. Then again, finding my voice and unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth would probably be a problem. She was wearing what I saw before - no change there, but her lips looked redder and her eyes seemed to glow. I could see my tag nestled right between her breasts. My gaze lingered there for a second before taking in her very fine bare legs ending in little not-quite-boots that only came to her ankles. But the clincher was her hands.

"Nice gloves," I think I heard myself say.

She raised one to inspect it, looking at both sides, pulling at the cuffs that ended barely to her wrists, then smiled over to me. "I'm steppin' out," she replied. As she walked over it dawned on me that she'd probably be cold on the bike. I shrugged off the jean jacket and looked up, holding it out to her as she frowned.

"After all that fuss, now you want me to cover up?"

"Just for the bike," I replied, holding the jacket so she could put it on.

"And won't you get cold then?"

I grinned wolfishly. "I'm Canadian."

Well, I am. And at some points I do actually act like it. No, I don´t say 'oot and aboot', or end every sentence with 'eh?', or hell, even really care about that whole Ontario thing, but nothing beats a hockey game with a six pack of Molson. Unless it's a twelve pack of Molson. Or possibly a twelve pack of Molson in one hand and Marie in the other. I wonder if she likes hockey…

Marie rolled her eyes at me and slid in behind me, her arms settling around my waist, her thighs hugging the outside of mine, and the rest of her just getting as close as she could.

Her breath tickled my ear when she spoke quietly, her face rubbing against the hair at the back of my neck. "Thanks for taking me out, Logan."

"No problem," I grunted, just before gunning the engine.

end part one