Scott grinned at Logan. "Jean's home," he stated.

"Non! Jeannie dat's out o' de question!" they heard the Cajun ranting. "Remy ain't tellin' y' anyt'ing 'bout dat. Dat's 'tween dem an' dey de ones dat gotta work it out. Jus' cuz y' bein' a bitch t' y' boy don' mean de rest o' us gotta. An' dey got 'nough on deir minds wit'out y' tryin' t' punish Scotty y'self. Y' been colder'n de Arctic winds t' de boy an' now y' 'spect Remy's gonna turn 'im over t' y' f' more torture? Ain't gonna happen. Merde!" Gambit slammed out of the den. "Y' two have fun. Someone else gets t' deal wit' de red-head from Hell." He grabbed Scott's wrist as he passed. "Y' need y' rest, Cyke. Let de short one deal wit' de firebrand. Least he ain't gonna get his fool self kilt if she decide t' get mad." He dragged Scott to Logan's room. Logan's laugh followed them up the stairs.

"Gambit!" Scott snapped, but it lacked its usual bite. "I know the way to Logan's room, you know. And Jean's been sleeping there anyway." Remy opened the door and took the bags away from the tired leader of the X-men.

"Logan's gonna want de boathouse f' privacy. Y' need more rest den y've had. Y' lookin' ragged around de edges. Remy bring y' some tea t' help y' sleep." Before leaving the room he added, "an make y' muscles a lil less sore."

Jean stood stock still as Logan paced into the room. He was pissed about something and she wasn't sure what it was. He stalked around her, nostril's flaring. He studied her critically. It was disconcerting. She couldn't sense any thoughts from him. He'd closed off their link, and somehow that had blurred her ability to read him. "We're goin' ta that boathouse of yers. Move it," he ordered.

Jean swallowed and led the way to the boathouse that hadn't been used for over a month. It smelled dusty and she wrinkled her nose. It was the heating system. During the winter the house seemed sealed up and the heater just ran the dust through every room. She ought to clean out the kitchen. It was a random thought, but more comforting than dwelling on what she couldn't tell about what Logan was thinking. She'd felt him and Scott from across the Atlantic and urged the professor to return to Westchester, so that she could see Logan and apologize for Scott's actions.

The professor had laughed gently and shook his head. "We'll return, but not for those reasons. Listen to what Logan tells you." She hadn't understood what Xavier was getting at. He was playing older and wiser mentor again and she was too righteously angry to figure out what he was talking about. Scott had had no right to tell Logan that he couldn't be trusted. Well, he'd never said that. He'd just basically thrown the man out of their bed. And his calm assurances that Logan would be back had driven her insane. Didn't he realize that he's all but told the man he didn't give a fuck? Why would Logan want to come back to that? She'd been vindicated when Logan didn't come back and had exiled Scott to the couch.

Now Logan was back. And he was mad. At her! She knew she should have pinned down the Thief when she'd had the chance. What could she possibly have missed?

"Three weeks, huh? That's mighty cold. Don't say one word, Darlin'. Not one word." Jean's mouth shut with a snap. "I left only because I knew he still had ya. I ain't plannin' on leavin' anymore. And I ain't ever leavin' him in yer care. I left him fer ya. Doncha understand? Or are you that much of an arrogant bitch. The boy don't think he deserves us both. One or the other, he can tell himself it's all a mistake. He's had ya ferever and he didn't want ta lose ya fer me, or to me." Logan was stalking closer and closer. "Ya shouldna punished him, Red. That was my job." He sniffed at her neck. "Nasty perfume. Must be Besty's." He stalked around her again. "Least I don't smell anyone else on ya. Woulda hate ta have ta get that nasty. Strip." She blinked. The shades were up on the front windows. She stood gaping at him in front of the fireplace. "I said strip." Logan shook his head. "Ya ain't all that bright, are ya, Darlin'?" His claws flashed and her shirt fell onto the floor. She gasped and turned red.

"Logan! What do you think you're doing!" Not that she didn't like him feral, of course, but there was such a thing as propriety. Which it seemed was running out the door as her bra hit the floor.

"Take 'em off or loose 'em. Yer choice." She shivered and shimmied out of her jeans quickly. She stood there in her black silk panties and Logan watched her. "Now yer gonna listen, cuz there ain't no where ta run. If ya ever hurt him again, I'm gonna take it outta yer hide. Ya treat him nasty and he takes it cuz he thinks that's all he deserves. Ya run hot an' cold an' confuse him worse than Bobby babbling about comic books. I ain't gonna let ya do that anymore. Ain'cha the one that's been lecturing Rogue about throwin' her lover inta the walls? Then, ya turn around and abandon yer husband? Ya ain't thinkin' right, Jeannie. An' yer gonna get punished fer it." His nostrils flared again. "Ain't ya just the little slut."

Callused fingers traced up Jean's sides, counting each rib. They brushed over her breasts and she shivered. "Logan! The windows are wide open!"

"Ya ashamed o' me then? Just like yer ashamed o' Cyke? That ain't right." He kissed her, roughly.

"I'm not. I don't..." Jean couldn't find the words. What the hell was Logan up to? This wasn't the man she was used to. This wasn't the feral Logan. This was a completely rational and pissed off Logan and that made her feel more than a little woozy. The silk panties followed the way of the shirt and bra.

"I oughta take ya across my knee fer the way ya been treatin' the boy." Bright green eyes blinked.

"Logan, Sweetie, I was just...."

"Did I tell ya ta say anything?" Jean shook her head and bit her lip. Logan suppressed a grin. He wondered who had picked the mannerism up from who. Jean was worried by the glint that had just come into Logan's blue eyes. She couldn't read his mind and she wasn't quite sure that she was reading his mood right. He snared a scrap of fabric from the floor that had been her sleeve, with one long claw. He grinned at her then. It was a feral grin. And she was the prey. Very nice.

He spun her around and through judicious application of TK, she was able to stay vertical. He kicked her legs apart and secured her hands behind her. Logan snorted. He slapped her ass lightly. "Ya shouldn't have done it, girl. And ya don't think ya did anything wrong. Ya have any clue whatcha did to him?" She didn't respond. He shook his head. This time the slap stung.

"What the heck are you talking about, Logan? I didn't do anything but make him sleep alone."

"Where?"

"He slept on the couch in the den at the Mansion."

"And you slept in my bed." She nodded. With years of practice, Logan forced the anger backwards. Jeannie wasn't Scott. She wasn't willing to be bruised. Much. He grabbed her wrists and walked her up the stairs to the bedroom. This was strange territory. She and Scott had moved in with him rather than have all three of the out at the boathouse. Strange that. But there was a ghost in here. He could smell Scott's scent and that would be enough to keep him from going too far and making her bleed too much. Jean was more frightened by the silence than the lectures.

"Logan?"

"Ya've been married to Scott fer years, but ya slept in my room. Why?"

"I wanted to make the illusion last."

"And thinkin' I was with Slim made that happen?"

"Yes."

"And what did it do to him?"

"Nothing. It's not like I haven't made him sleep on the couch before."

"Here."

"Of course. In the Mansion too before we moved... well, he did have his own room, but it's the same thing." Logan shook her.

"Are ya really that dense, Sweetheart? Ya chose me over him." Jean blinked down at the angry eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Suddenly, the fabric on her wrists felt rough.

"Ya were sleepin' in my bed. He didn't come back here. He stayed in the Mansion. Ya were my girl then. Ta his mind he lost us both." Her eyes widened as she reached for the link between her and Scott. She'd been ignoring it for weeks. It was like a buzz in the back of her mind. There was nothing there. He was asleep. In Logan's bed. "Ya stupid bitch. Ya didn't even know ya were destroyin' him." Logan shook his head. "He doesn't think he deserves ya. He doesn't think her deserves me. Ya treat him nasty and he thinks that's all he deserves. He'd step aside fer me if I asked him to. Break his damn foolish heart ta do it, but he would. Are ya startin' ta understand, Honey?" Jean nodded jerkily. "Ya understand why I gotta do this then." He threw her onto the bed. "Stay." She shivered.

He found what he needed in the dresser and grinned. He dangled the handcuffs from one finger. "There's somethin' ya ain't been tellin' ole Wolvie." She blushed. She'd bought them on a whim, thinking that maybe the next time they defeated a mutant, they'd just put them under arrest. Scott had let her present the idea to the professor when they were still teens. Much later, they'd found more creative uses for them. The keys were twist-tied to the chain. Bless Scott's anal-retentive heart, Logan thought idly. Oddly enough, Jean's thoughts mirrored his. He locked her wrists to the headboard. He grinned at the slat-backed headboard. "Do I even wanna know what ya were thinkin' when ya bought this?"

He shredded the sleeve further and used the strips to tie her legs down. She was ready for him and glared at him when he just settled down on the edge of the bed and stared at her. She met his eyes defiantly. "Ya don't come unless I tell ya." Her eyes dropped. She nodded. It was Logan. He wasn't going to hurt her. Then, he stopped talking. The tick of the clock shocked her. It was the little travel clock that Scott hadn't packed up when they were moving into the Mansion for the blizzard. Her eyes were drawn to it. It was almost dinner time. She really ought to be cooking. Then, Logan's fingers stroked down her stomach, teasing her belly button. She squirmed and he grinned. The familiar sound of his claws made her freeze. The warm metal ran across her abdomen, traced over her breast, flicked down her sides, never hard enough to mark her. The trailed down her leg and back up, pricking her slightly on her inner thigh. Logan lapped away the little bit of blood.

The claws closed and his hands started to caress her. His fingers seemed to be everywhere and no where long enough to do any good. She arched into the touch on her nipples and a gruff laugh hit her ears as the hands left them. His fingers ran up her bound arms, testing the strength of the cuff - quality steel. Not adamantium, but then again, she was money conscious. He grinned as she licked her lips. He kissed her. A delicate sweet kiss that left her wanting more. His tongue swept down her body, lapping up the salty sweat that gathered in the hollow of her neck and between her breast. His tongue swept lower, dipping into her bellybutton, just to make her squirm in response. He went to her toes and licked his way up her leg. Then he repeated it with the other leg. She was writhing by this time. "Please, Logan."

"Shut up," he snapped. Her eyes widened and she moaned a little as his eyes became ice blue flames burning along her nerves. He stroked her wetness for a few moments, pressing gently against her clit. She moaned and tried to bring him closer. He laughed. She was too close. He let go. She was lucky he'd burned off a hell of a lot of energy in the past two nights or she'd be hurting by now, looking like that. A delicate red flush had given color too her all too winter pale skin. He wanted to see her sunbathing.

Jean wanted Logan in her. She'd gone three weeks without getting anything that wasn't from her own hand and she wasn't really in the mood for games. Then again, Logan was all games. His anger startled her. She felt like a little girl when he lectured her. Right now though, she felt like a woman. A rather desperate woman. She panted, trying to restrain her body. She writhed in the bonds that held her open and kept her from dragging him close. She could do it though. She could force him to do anything she wanted, but that was wrong. But he'd tied her up. Weren't those rules out the window? No, she couldn't do it. It would spoil his fun and when it came down to it, she didn't really like controlling her lovers. She'd done it once to Scott and the pain had been unbearable. No, Logan was in charge. He'd been in charge since he'd dragged her here.

She wanted to taste him. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to ride him until they came together. It seemed that wasn't in the plans though. She yanked on the cuffs and groaned as his fingers slid into her slit once more. That was so much better. His fingers were so hot. They felt like brands against her skin. He pulled them away. "Lick 'em clean," he growled in her ear. She licked his fingers, tasting herself and tasting the unique flavor of his skin. He trailed the wet fingers down her sternum. Then, his fingers traced up her arms. He straddled her and bent to taste the bend of her arm. The nip made her jump.

"Logan, please."

"Nope. Open up, Honey." She took his cock into her mouth, drawing it out as much as she could. Maybe the sooner he came, the sooner he'd let her out of her misery. He was enjoying it. Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock. Her eyes narrowed. Damn the man, he was meditating. Time to up the ante. She caressed him with a swirl of power. She was satisfied when a lazy smile took the place of the impassive mask he'd been wearing. "That's better. Can't have ya doin' half a job." Anger made her green eyes flash with sparks. Just the way her liked her. "Bite and regret it, Girl." She scraped her teeth along his cock and his teeth flashed as he laughed. He pulled out and kissed her, hard. She trembled and pulled against the cuffs. She wanted to grab his head. She wanted to pull him close to her. She wanted him to touch more than just her mouth and cheek.

Suddenly, he was in her in one deep thrust and she arched. His rhythm was fast and short and Jean's thighs flexed as she uselessly tried to wrap her legs around him. His mouth was all over her and she was close, oh so close, she was starting to soar and he stopped. She cried out in denial. He grinned at her, licking his lips. "Jus' calm down, Girl. I ain't done with ya yet."

"Logan?" she asked breathlessly. "Please, Logan. Please." His hands roamed over her. Flash-fires of feeling swarmed over her skin trailing behind the touch. She nearly sobbed when his hand avoided all the places she wanted him to touch. How could he know? How could he do this to her? "Logan, please. I..." What did she want? What words would compel him to touch her. "I need you in me."

"Soon, Darlin'. When yer calmed down a bit." The strokes were gentle and firm. Soothing. She backed away from her orgasm and the hands brushed over her firm nipples. He suckled on one, then the other, driving her up the cliff again. His mouth moved lower, his tongue slipping into her slit. She trembled and moaned in appreciation. As she drew close, he withdrew again. He licked his lips. "Damn you taste good, Girl." She was nearly sobbing. He plunged deep into her and she exploded in sensation. Fire rose to her skin and danced along the cords of her nerves. Every muscle seemed to contract as she crested and clenched around the thickness that was Logan. He came, pistoning into her with a low growl. He lay there stroking her breast until he'd regained his equilibrium. She was out cold. He grinned and released her. He tucked her in and stretched. His stomach growled.

He cleaned himself up and wandered back to the Mansion for dinner.

Scott smiled as the conversation swirled around him. It was like old times again. Logan was grinning and Scott wasn't sure he really wanted to know what was going on. He sipped his coffee as Drake went to check the chore schedule. "Remy and Rogue are on dish duty."

"NO!" Storm, Bishop, Hank and Xavier said at the same time, just as the two Southerners had perked up. "Remember what happened last time?" Storm asked. Bobby blinked at her, his memory not catching on to the hints. "The water fight incident." Bobby went white and pulled out a pen.

"Make that Remy and Betsy. Rogue will work with Storm tomorrow." Rogue pouted, but it did nothing to change anyone's mind.

"Fine." She stalked off. Remy sighed.

"Y' sure dat we couldn'..."

"No," Storm stated firmly.

"But we'll be good."

"Right, as if," Jubilee said. "Hell, that story made it to the Academy." Remy grinned.

"An' y' shouldn' say does dings in front o' ole' Logan."

"We've already had the birds and bees talk, Cajun. She doesn't play bird and I don't have ta kill the bee that wants ta kiss her." Sam pulled on his collar.

"If we're gon' ta make that movie, Miss Jubilee, Ah think we'd bettah get on the road," he said and the two of them left the room quickly. Remy and Betsy started clearing the table. Scott wandered out to the den and noticed that no one had bothered to restock the firewood. He went to the woodpile, muttering under his breath. "Go away for a few days and everything goes to hell."

"'Lisabetta?"

"Yes?"

"Is Fearless wearin' leat'er pants?" The Cajun had stopped washing dishes and was staring out the window at the woodpile. Betsy frowned and looked out.

"Oh. Oh, my. I think, yes, definitely leather." At that precise moment Scott bent over. "Oh, my." Betsy fanned herself. "Do you think we can convince the professor that leather uniforms would be better?"

"If we go now." Remy abandoned the dishes and Betsy ported them to the professor's office.

Xavier looked up at them with a small frown. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Just had a bit of a brainstorm we wanted to share. Leather uniforms?"

"What's wrong with the spandex?"

"Leather will give better protection against bumps and bruises, lasts longer," Betsy started.

Remy pointed out the window to the edge of the woods where Scott was busy chopping wood. "And den dere's de aesthetic reasons." Xavier followed his finger. He swallowed and blinked. He held up his credit card.

"As soon as possible." Betsy grabbed the card in one hand and her partner in crime with the other.

"Let's go." Xavier watched Scott work.

Bobby looked at the abandoned kitchen. The water was still soapy, but cold. The dishes were half done. The dish towel was across the back of a chair. He frowned. It wasn't like Betsy to shirk her duties, even if she wasn't regularly scheduled for them. Maybe one of them had gotten sick or something. He sighed. Someone had to do the dishes and Hank was in the middle of an experiment anyway.

Jean stretched and scrounged up some jeans and a sweatshirt. She had moved most of her things into Logan's room already. It would be crowded with three people, but it just seemed more comfortable to move in with Logan than to have Logan move to the boathouse with them. She hummed. It had been a long three weeks. She still couldn't figure out why Logan had been angry, but that was normal. He was fairly torn inside because of the feral side. That made him hard to read at times. She saw Scott dragging in wood and waved. He nodded at her and negotiated his way into the house. She was just about to help him when she noticed the pants. Scott was wearing leather. Leather. Scott. Scott the man who hated to wear anything that didn't cost next to nothing was wearing leather to haul wood.

She shook her head and went into the mansion. She found Logan in the den talking to Rogue. She settled in to wait for him. Rogue made a great show of neatening up the couch. She plumped the cushions and then went to bring back a blanket and pillow. Logan just smirked. Jean raised a brow as she realized that she'd stolen one Gambit's quilts. "Planning on a late night?" Jean asked with a smile.

"No. Just figured yahr gonna need somethin' ta sleep with. Since yahr gonna be on tha couch fah awhile. If ya get terribly bored, Remy's on security tonight."

"Sleeping on the couch?" Jean stated. "Who's sleeping on the couch?"

"You are, Darlin'," Logan stated. "You can sleep here or in the boathouse, I don't much care. Scott's sleepin' in a real bed until the weddin'. Come on, let's make sure you ain't fergotten anything." Jean gaped after the two of them.

"Do you want me to build a fire?" Scott asked pleasantly. Jean nodded.

"Wait a minute. Did you know about this? Did you talk him into this?"

Scott shook his head with a rueful smile. "I tried to talk him out of it. He didn't buy it. And I'm sick of fighting him. You two have to work this out. I'm staying out of it. I was stupid enough to force him away once. I'm not doing it again. And it's not like you haven't been sleeping alone for the past three weeks already." He dumped the wood into the fireplace with a little more force than necessary.

"Scott, I'm your wife?"

"Really? Last I heard you were waiting for Logan. You haven't spoken to me in three weeks!" Scott shrugged as he arranged the logs more precisely. "I just figured you were sick of me. I wouldn't blame you for choosing him. He's a lot less maintenance. And you can bounce him off the walls and not kill him. And you don't have to worry about Apocalypse trying to steal your baby by him." He shoved some of the shredded paper from his office under the logs and narrowed his eyes before lifting his glasses momentarily. The paper ignited and he took a moment to watch and feed it. It was a moment he didn't have to look at Jean.

Jean for her part was staring at her husband. "Scott, I wasn't choosing him. I was just so angry that you'd sent him away." Scott shrugged and prodded the fire to life. "Scott?" Jean seemed more hesitant. She couldn't read her husband. That was not a good thing. "Scott, I love you," she said softly.

"I know." He stood and hung up the poker. "It should burn hot for a few hours and then smolder for most of the night. It'll keep it nice and toasty. Need another blanket?"

"No, I'll be fine." She looked up at him. "Talk to him for me?"

"Sure." Scott leaned down to kiss her good night. He ran his fingers through her hair, savoring the feel of the cool glide. It was slightly damp and he had a good idea as to why. He caressed her cheek. Then, he kissed her. It was a gentle kiss. He closed his eyes and focused on remembering the taste of her. He compared the flavors he associated with her. He deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth as if it were new territory he'd never tried before. He tasted Logan mixed in with her sweet and smoky taste. She was fire at the core of everything and Scott knew that. Logan was going to have to learn that the hard way.

Jean relaxed into the kiss, slanting her head to give Scott better access. She accepted the kiss instead of fighting for dominance as she often did. He tasted sweet tonight, full of unmade promises. She was forcibly reminded of the first time she'd ever kissed him. Her brain registered the scent of pine and something indescribable that she thought of as fall air. She wanted to devour him, right then. He pulled away as she felt the blood rising in her cheeks and something fluttering in her stomach. He smoothed back a strand of hair, and ran a caress down her side. Just as she was going to ask him to do more. He yawned. "Goodnight, Sweetie. I'll see you in the morning." He left the room before she could gather her wits to respond. She stared at the fire for a few minutes. She prodded at the link between herself and her, well husbands was the only way to put it. She was shocked to find out they were arguing. She felt her stomach curl as she recognized Scott's fear was real. How could she not have known? She stared at the fire for a long time. Then, went to tuck in the professor.

"Jean? Are you all right?" he asked gently.

"I'll be fine." She locked down on her shields and saw the professor shake his head, bemused.

"Apologize to them, Jean. Don't let this get out of hand."

"I'll take care of this. I just have some things to think about tonight."

"Goodnight, Jean."

Jean wandered the halls. The echoes of passion wrecked her concentration for reading or any other type of activity. Just as she was about to abandon all thought on the matter, she spied the quilt. She wasn't going to suffer alone. She stormed into the security room. She was greeted by a mug of hot chocolate. She stared hard at it and the mutant beyond it. "What? Gambit knew y'd be up. De powers good for somet'ing beyond explosions." She laughed and shook her head. She sipped.

And coughed. "What....?" She managed.

"Brandy." She stared at him. Then, settled into the second chair.

"Anything interesting?"

"Well, Remy don' dink dat Ange gonna be able t' move t'morrow, but beyond dat, non."

"Liar."

"Well, y'r boys are always at it." He rolled his eyes and reached out to change the main screen. Jean's eyes widened.

"What is with the sudden appearance of leather all over this mansion?" she asked in frustration. She saw the secretive smirk a moment before Gambit banished it. Her eyes narrowed. "What's going on?"

"Y' don' know Wings too well anymore, oui? He and 'Lisabetta have been in leat'er f' years I dink. Well, mebbe jus' since dat Crimson Dawn ding." Remy shrugged.

"Are you drunk?" Jean asked primly.

"Non." He grinned at her. "Why y' t'row Scotty outta de bed when Wolvie left?"

Jean raised one perfect eyebrow. "Depends on why you're asking?"

"Mais, Remy get bored watchin' all dis an' never getting any. Dere's somet'ings dat gotta involve touch, non?" The plaintive edge in Remy's voice broke Jean's resolve to stonewall. She sighed. She missed the glint of satisfaction in the Cajun's eyes.

"I was angry and he was the closest target."

"At least dat's honest. Y' want some more cocoa?" Jean looked down at the now empty mug.

"Please." She watched as Remy heated the water with a touch. He poured in a rather large measure of brandy and hot water, then added real cocoa, not instant. She raised her brow as he added a pinch of milk from the cooler at his feet. "You're well prepared."

Remy shrugged. "So, why did y' get so mad at y' boy? Y' know how stubborn de homme can be?"

"Because he pushed away one of the best things that's ever happened to either of us. At his age he should know that happiness should be savored!" She gulped down a sip of scalding liquid. "He was so blind. I was furious."

"Scotty ain't de 'path in de relationship, chere." Jean took another large sip of the cocoa flavored brandy. It was a rather pleasant combination that she wouldn't have made on her own.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Just what it sound like, chere. Y' de 'path. Didn' y' dink dat dere had t' be more goin' on in his head?"

"I don't pry."

"Sapriste! Woman, y' pry whenever y' dink it's gonna do y' good. De homme linked in t' y' own head! Y' got his permission t' look if'n he ain't shielded!"

"It's not like his minds like his reports! He's got all sorts of muddled up stuff going on in there. It's like trying to sort through a web of knots. And nothing is ever what it really seems when he's not consciously showing me something or even those rare times I can actually feel what he's feeling, physically at least. It's not like I can just wander in, open up his filing cabinet and look at his files like you do!" Remy raised a brow. "Fine, so the professor was talkative. He should have thought."

"Thinkin' wasn' what got him wit' you. An' it ain' what got him inta Logan's bed in de first place. More?" Jean bolted down the rest of the hot liquid.

"Yes. And when the hell did you become his defender. Last I heard you didn't like one another."

"Dat's not true. Remy just dinks de homme needs t' loosen up. 'Sides de boy be wort' somet'ing in de right circles." That calculated hint flew over her head and Remy concentrated on getting the proportions right for the next serving. She should be feeling very buzzed right now. Time for a little show. He handed her the mug and flipped the switch to plaster Logan's bedroom on the main screen.

Logan was stroking Scott's back gently. From the smile on his face they'd just finished something and the tent of the sheet indicated they were about to start something more. Scott's head was cradled in his arms. He arched slightly into the touch. Jean was shocked at the bruises that ran down his shoulder. He turned his face to the side and she saw that he wasn't wearing his glasses or his goggles. Still, he turned with that almost maddening sort of radar and rolled over and between Logan's legs.

He ran his fingers over Logan's chest, dragging through the soft, thick hair. The charm on the front of the collar swung a bit and the warm metal felt weird. It didn't matter that he was starting to get used to the leather against his skin. There was still something sort of odd about wearing the damned thing. But Logan liked it, and it didn't hurt. It was much better than an earring. Lazily, as his thoughts drifted, he mapped his lover's chest, noting when Logan's breathing changed. He felt Logan's cock, stiff against his thigh. Logan's hips were moving minutely to gain friction.

Scott felt himself harden. He brought his mouth down to join his fingers in exploring. Logan moaned.

Jean moaned too. She knew what that attention felt like.

The sound trailed off into a growl that Scott interpreted as purring. He teased one of Logan's nipples with his tongue. "More," Logan growled.

Scott stroked the hard cock once, gently. Then, he ran a fingernail across the tip making the older man gasp. He continued a line up the back of the cock and over the sensitive skin just behind it. Finally, he pressed for entrance. Logan spread his legs wide.

Scott taunted him with one finger, then two. The growl was constant now and Logan pressed in to the fingers wanting more. Three fingers, then four. The movement of Logan's hips claimed he could take no more. His cock squirted stickily onto his abdomen. Scott gathered the substance and slicked his own cock.

He settled himself to the hilt in the tight warmth of Logan's body. It was like the space had been made just for him, a perfect fit. Slowly, gently, Scott plunged in and out of that perfect, warm space.

Logan's cock revived and was pressed between the flat, muscled stretches of flesh that made up their abdomens. He snarled, "Faster. Shit, Scott, more." Scott's thrusts became a little less gentle. Driven by the twinned desire he could feel through their link, he thrust deeper and harder until sparks flew behind Logan's eyes. Scott came as Logan's body clenched tightly around him. He collapse across the smaller man and felt Logan nuzzle gently at the abused spot on his neck. He slept. Logan stroked Scott's hair and back until he too was claimed by sleep.

Jean was nearly ready to weep with the tension. She watched as her husband gently prepared their lover. Brandy and passion had loosened her inhibitions and she'd run her own hands over her body in a parody of what Scott was doing to Logan. Honeyed words poured into her ear.

"Look at dem, so hot f' one anot'er. Y' know what dose fingers feel like, non? An' de hair beneath y' fingers. Y' used t' be de only one he touch like dat. Y' want dem bot' so bad, but dey wan' each ot'er too and dat can cut so sharp." Gambit was enjoying the non-verbal part of the exercise. He reached for the bright red strands of arousal and amped them up until Jean had forgotten he was in the room.

Her hand skimmed down over her stomach and under the waistband of her pants. He let her entertain herself, siphoning off a bit of arousal to keep her from climaxing. She opened the fly of her pants and fingered herself, eyes closing into fantasy. Gambit shook his head. Oh, no, that would never do. She had to pay for treating Scotty like shit. And for treating him like her lover's watchdog when she decided to go out of town. "Look at dem, curled up like pups t'get'er. What's it like, not bein' wit' dem t'night, chere?" he purred in her ear. "It hurts, don' it, chere. T' be on de outside of dem, lookin' in." She nodded, the arousal fading. "Why y' outside t'night?"

"I... I hurt them," she whispered. "I hurt Scott and that hurt Logan."

"How'd y' hurt dem, chere?"

"I chose one when I promised myself to both." Gambit studied her.

"An' what y' gon' t' do 'bout dat?"

"Apologize." He nodded. She was too drunk to make it to the couch alone, so he left her sitting in the chair. He went back to the monitors and made himself a mug of hot cocoa, sans brandy to keep watch.

The phone call startled Gambit. That was because it was on his cell phone which had just started to vibrate in his pocket. He'd forgot he had the damn thing with him. "Yeah?" he answered it.

"Very professional, Remy," a mocking voice greeted him in French.

"Paul. Do you have a lead? And where are you? I know you're not on the East Coast."

"Hong Kong actually. No new leads on your case. But I might have one in a little while, depending on what we find here. So, talk to me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm bored. And you, my favorite thief, always has a good bit of gossip."

"And he doesn't share unless he's getting something in return."

"Then fill me in on the tablets. Just in case I've heard something that I didn't hear."

"They're perfectly legal. I told you that when they got pinched."

"So where were they found? What do you know about them that you can't tell me in front of a bunch of local police and insurance agents?" Remy sighed. So Paul was in one of those moods.

"Listen, I told you everything."

"This is Paul, not Chen."

"Alright, so maybe not everything. Let's see, I picked them up in Egypt. They're more than likely stolen, but I brought them in legitimately, but they're not copies. That was certification to get past Egyptian customs. The museum's had them ever since. That was two years ago. They're supposed to be translated."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why on earth did you, the king of glittery objects d'art end up with a bunch of clay tablets from Egypt?"

"A hunch. There were some things that looked familiar in them. Symbols I'd seen someplace else. But because I wasn't able to read them myself, I don't know if they were religiously important or something. The pinch was top-notch though. Not the best, but competent."

Paul snorted. He tapped on the edge of his bowl. "So, what you're telling me, is you have no idea who might have taken it?"

"It was a mutant."

"Merde."

"Exactly. The electrical was fried, but it wasn't done with a tool. There's nothing on the market that could do that particular trick. There's a bunch of powers though. Anyone who can manipulate energy could do it. Stormy, or me, or even a telekinetic could do it. Just push a little bit and zap that main board. And it would show up as a natural short and switch to the back up system. That switch is when the thief sent it around the wrong way. She set it up first."

"She?"

"Or he. Makes no difference."

"No, think for a second. What was your read on the boards? You were the first to look at them."

"What? Why didn't you tip me I was looking for residuals? I think the thief was a woman, but there's plenty of them in the world. And there's nothing saying that this was part of an organized group. There are freelancers out there you know."

"Like you?"

"Sometimes. But my gut says that what those tablets said was what the person was after. There was something very important there."

"Did they even make a photocopy or scan of them?"

"No. I didn't want to emphasize them, just in case they were important. I didn't want the academia nuts to get their claws into it and publish it everywhere."

"What kept you from getting a private translator?"

"Death." Gambit wondered what his voice sounded like over the phone lines.

"Whose?"

"A lot of people. I had to keep moving. And it sort of slipped my mind for a while. It wasn't as important as other things. You know the pretty little things that I like to chase."

"And someone is trying to change the subject. Very well, I'll let you. Speaking of chasing? Have you caught your Southern Belle? Or that red head?"

Remy snickered. "Rogue is fine, thank you. And Jean's married, Paul."

"And so were you, but that never stopped you."

"When are you getting married Paul?"

"Marriage is not a rite of passage, Remy."

"Ah, so you aren't involved anymore?"

"No, you nosy bastard."

"Hmmm. Well, there's a pretty little girl in Hong Kong you'd like."

"Stop it right now, LeBeau. I'm not letting you get involved in my love life."

"Your loss. So, how's the family?"

"Father is convinced that I am a lost cause. He's depressed because I didn't use my law degree."

"You're a genius. They never make sense."

"Met a few of them?"

"More than I ever wanted to. You being actually rather low on the list. You don't want to dissect me. So, your sister?"

"Has joined Grandfather's firm. And that irritating half-brother of mine has joined up with your new playmates. The Scottish contingent at least."

"Yeah, heard about him a while back. He's dating Stormy's kitten."

"Sounds like his speed. The man is absolutely without redeeming qualities. Reminds me of you."

"You just say the sweetest things. What about the rest of your extended clan?"

"They're just fine. My step-sister got married last month. She didn't invite me to the wedding."

"You weren't even in the country."

"True. She eloped. She spent the wedding money on a house instead."

"At least someone in the family has sense."

"Hey!" Remy heard Paul take a deep breath and grinned. The man was in public, that's why he wasn't yelling yet. All the better to toy with then. "And how are the newlyweds?"

"You mean Jean and her boys? They haven't exchanged vows yet. One-eye and Claws are doing okay. Jean's on the outs at the moment. You remember that big rumble that ended up in Claws disappearing? Well, Red decides to throw One-eye on to the couch and Claws came back and got pissed. At the moment, it's fun to watch. They're going to end up fine, but the sparks are going to be incredible. You've got to see them sometimes. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."

"What do they look like together?" Paul asked softly.

"Like fire-opals and rubies in a setting of copper-red gold." The detective laughed.

"Goodbye, Remy. I'll talk to you later. I've got to go meet up with Chen and find the blasted book."

"Try the Dragon's Pardon Inn."

"I will," Paul said after a long pause. "Thanks."

"Bye." Remy hung up. He loved having the last word. He slouched down in the chair and swung his feet up on the control table. Everyone was asleep so he switched the main monitor to the outside and watched Bishop patrolling.

Yenta Index
XM Bedroom
Bedrooms
Library