The Twist Inside
Chapter 2: Temptation
by
Allykat
Author's Note: Excuse any grammar problems or errors, there will always be some that escape my multiple editing sessions. Thanks to Superninja for beta reading and making suggestions. If you get a chance, check out some of her stories, too. She's a wonderful fanfic writer.
Later that evening, Jubilee and Rogue met in the mansion's huge front room. Logan was still out on his scoot probably at one of his favorite sleazy biker bars. Normally Jubilee might have complained that he took off during one of her rare visits, but for now she wanted him out of the house. She didn't want him witnessing her feeble, inept attempt at learning cowboy dancing. 'Dances with two left feet' Logan would call her.
"So you think Logan two-steps, right? I mean," she twisted her hands together, "I'd like to dance with him on his birthday and not look like a total lame-o."
"Sugah, one of the biggest rodeos, the Calgary Stampede, is in Canada. Ifn' yer a cowboy, ya' know the two-step. Logan ain't exactly a cowboy, but he is Canadian so ah guarantee ya' that he knows how ta' kicker dance."
"Kicker dance?" Jubilee asked.
"Two-step. Kicker dance. All the same." Rogue selected a CD and put it in the player. A snazzy country western song filled the room.
"What's this?" Jubilee asked, tapping one toe. "Uh, it's not my usual style, but I like it."
"What's not to like about Brooks and Dunn, sugah. This song is called the Boot Scootin' Boogie." Rogue slipped on a pair of gloves and approached Jubilee. " I'll be the guy, so I lead. Place yer hand up here in mine and I'll place my hand on yer waist, like so."
Jubilee flapped her remaining hand. "What do I do with this?"
Rogue lifted an eyebrow then took the hand and guided it to her shoulder. "Really sugah."
Jubilee licked her lips. "You know I've just kinda free danced to like rock n' roll and stuff."
"Relax. Anyone can do the two step. Now ya' follow me. Move yer feet like this and that's all there is to it. It ain't called the two step for nothin'. Relax your shoulders. Heal toe doesy doe. Get down, turn around, go to town, boot scootin' boogie," she sang with a smile. "Ah, I haven't danced like this in a long time."
Jubilee watched Rogue's feet, letting the rhythm dictate the beat of her steps. "Hey, this is fun!"
"Darn right." Rogue smiled. "You a natural, sugah. Now I'm gonna make it more complicated an' add a few steps. My hand here on your waist will cue you when to move forwards, backwards or around. Very good. Why don't we try a spin? Stay with the beat." Rogue picked up Jubilee's hand and without breaking step, spun her around. "Very good!" she praised and they both laughed. "Now pick up the two step, one two, one two. See there ya' go. Here comes another spin, and again pick right back up on the two step. Forward two steps, backwards five. One two one two." Rogue laughed. "Yah' got it. Let's put some variation into it an' move around the room. Yer gonna be dancin' with Logan like a pro."
"You havin' a party without us, cherie?" Remy said from the doorway. He sauntered into the room and held his hand out to Rogue. Behind him Betsy and Hank peered in. "Mind if I cut in?"
"You moving in on my date?" Jubilee teased and stepped aside. Remy took Rogue's hand and placed another hand on her hip.
"Sorry, petite." To show that he really wasn't, Remy cast her that flirtatious cajun smile and a wink. Jubilee rolled her eyes.
"We heard the music," Betsy said to no one in particular. She looked over at Hank. "It's not like we hear country western music often around here. Want to try?"
Hank bowed and held out his hand. "I would be honored if you would dance with me."
Betsy raised her eyebrows, smiled and placed her hand in his furry blue one. There might be something going on there, but Jubilee didn't want to speculate, she had enough of her own relationship problems to worry about someone else's. She sighed heavily and watched Rogue and Remy dance. They certainly knew how to, Jubilee thought. Not content to just sit and watch, she positioned herself beside Remy and Rogue and tried to mimic their steps. It was hard without a partner. She supposed she could go find another partner. Maybe Forge or Bishop would be willing. Naw, she couldn't imagine either of those guys two-stepping.
"One, two, one two," she counted under her breath. "Heel toe dosey doe. Turn around, forward, backwards. Another spin," she said under her breath, never taking her eyes off them. She held a hand over her head as if her imaginary partner held it. "Two more spins.... Ack!"
Someone grabbed her hand and spun her around in time to the music, pulled her in against a rock hard chest then placed a hand on her hip. "Looks like I've been missin' all the fun. Didn't know you could two step, kiddo," Logan said.
Jubilee stumbled. "Logan! I'm, uh... just learning so slow down and don't pull anything fancy. I thought you were on your scoot."
"Was," he replied. "Went to Hardcase's for a couple o' drinks, but I figured something was goin' on when ya' didn't pester me to tag along."
He almost sounded offended that she hadn't pestered him, or maybe that was wishful thinking on her part. Their last outing together was quite an adventure, one that she wasn't willing to repeat just yet, as much as she liked going out with Logan. [Author note: See "Tagging Along with Wolvie"] "Oh, oh. I think I'm getting predictable," Jubilee responded after a brief silence that was more uncomfortable than she wanted to admit. Something was going on with Logan, she could sense it, but she couldn't name it. Was it uncertainty? She rejected that. When was Logan ever uncertain?
Logan gave her an unreadable look. "I don't think so. Jus' when I think I got ya' figured out, ya' do something ta' throw me off. And ya' jus' stepped on my foot."
"Opps!" Jubilee stumbled against him. He righted her with a quick hand on her arm. She wrinkled up her nose. "You smell like you took a dip in whisky lake."
"Ain't surprisin' considering that I drank all the whisky out o' Hardcase's place."
Jubilee studied his face. Something was bothering him though he was doing his best not to let it show. "Is there a problem?"
"You could say that, darlin'," he replied. Judging by the stubborn set of his jaw, Jubilee knew she wasn't going to elaborate. The guy could give mule lessons in stubborn.
"I think Logan's doing a passable job of dancing," Rogue said, punctuating that with a wink as she and Remy danced by. Logan was as skilled as either Rogue or Remy.
"Rogue was teaching me when Remy cut in," Jubilee explained.
"Well, darlin', the ole' canucklehead'll teach ya'. Just relax and put your hand on my shoulder."
Jubilee realized she'd been stiff and nervous. Licking her lips, she complied, liking the feel of his muscular shoulder under her hand. The power in this man was unfathomable, wild and only half under control most of the time. Yet despite his capacity for violence, his arms were the safest haven on earth. With his hand resting on her hip and her hand in his, he lead her around the front room, and moved in perfect step to the music, spinning her around, first one way then the other.
"Woohoo!" Jubilee shouted. "This is more fun than jammin' to rock n' roll." The song changed, but was no less fun with a good beat.
By the end of the fifth song, Jubilee had the two-step down. Then the next song took the beat down a dozen notches; a slow song. Her stomach twisted nervously over the thought of Logan holding her to a slow tune. "Uh, how do we do this?" She sounded as unsure as she felt.
"Same thing, just slower," Logan said, his tone distracted. He slipped a hand around her waist and gathered her close.
Jubilee found it hard to breathe and a shiver traveled up her spine. It had been years since Logan had held her tight. He'd give her a quick hug now and then, but not like this, not anymore. The protective shelter of his arms when she was young and lost had disappeared now that she was older. She missed that. She looked over and saw Rogue laying her head on Remy's shoulder. She hesitated, then did the same. Logan tensed, then relaxed and his hand moved over her back.
"This is nice," she said softly. Logan was very warm, and his arms around her felt assuring and she suddenly found herself envying every woman who had been intimate with him. "You know, you and I have never danced."
"Ain't never had a moment, darlin'," Logan said close to her ear. It tickled, and another shiver feathered down her spine. "Being an X-man is no picnic. Have to take these moments and enjoy them when ya' get 'em 'cause ya' never know if they'll come around again."
"Yeah," Jubilee answered, knowing she felt the same way but for an entirely different reason. She was growing up and Logan was pulling away. "I think I know what you mean." And she snuggled closer to him.
* * * *
Jubilee's plan was to begin a full assault on Logan for the next two weeks before his birthday; she didn't want him to forget that she wasn't a little girl any longer. Unfortunately she had finals, so she couldn't skip any classes and she had to study hard. When she'd call the mansion Logan was never there. Bishop told her that he had heard distant and frequent gunfire toward the rear of the mansion's property. Further investigation by Bishop revealed that Logan was busy target practicing. Logan was an expert shot though he rarely touched a gun instead preferring his adamantium claws. Jubilee wanted to know why, Bishop said he had asked and Logan only said that he was polishing up on his accuracy. Whatever that was suppose to mean.
On the weekend of Logan's party, Jubilee arrived at the mansion Friday night late, almost midnight. She was tired but she'd finished finals and though she didn't know her grades yet, she knew she'd done well. She looked for Logan's scoot before going in through the back and running into Bobby raiding the kitchen. He started and looked up at she entered, a sheepish expression on his face. His arms were loaded down with chips, French onion dip and cookies.
"Oh, uh, hey Jubilee. I thought you were Logan."
"Sorry, don't have the hair or the claws," Jubilee laughed and smiled. "Got munchies?"
"Want some." He proffered the chip bag and she shook her head.
"No thanks, my stomach's all twisted in knots from finals." Well, that was one reason, but the real reason was anticipation of seeing a certain hairy Canuck. "Where's Logan? His scoot is gone."
"Don't know. Don't care. Good riddance."
"You jumped when I walk in, what's going on?"
Bobby frowned, then shrugged. "What does a rampaging 800 pound gorilla do?"
Jubilee stared at him for a moment. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Humor me for a moment. What does a rampaging 800 pound gorilla do?"
Jubilee sighed. "I don't know, what?"
"Anything it damn well wants," he replied and stuffed his mouth full of chips. "That's Logan, except worse because an 800 pound gorilla doesn't have nine inch Adamantium claws," he mumbled around a full mouth and gestured with the chip bag. "The way he's been acting lately you don't even want to say boo. We should all be glad he's generally on our side. Tell you what, when Apocalypse got a hold of him and turned him into Death, that was my worst nightmare. If we're lucky, maybe he's gone to thump a few heads together at one of those bars that he likes."
"If we're lucky," Jubilee replied. She didn't like to be reminded of what Apocalypse had done to Logan. She watched Bobby leave the kitchen then sat down at the kitchen table and played with a lacy doily. "What is wrong with you, Logan." She said to herself. "Why won't you talk to me?"
She made herself a cup of hot chocolate then yawning, headed upstairs to bed, and despite bone weary exhausted from long nights of studying, she couldn't get to sleep. Tossing and turning, she alternately stewed over Logan and her just completed final exams. She had fallen into a light doze when she heard the put-put of Logan's Harley. Bleary eyed, she rolled over and blinked at the clock. It was a quarter to four. She rose, threw a robe around the long t-shirt that she wore to bed, and padded downstairs.
Logan stumbled through the kitchen door. His black tank top was ripped and dark splattered stains speckled both shirt and blue jeans. Blood, Jubilee realized. He had healing bruises and cuts on his face. His long black hair was whipped back from riding on the Harley, and he had a half smile on his face. He looked like hammered hell.
"I hope the other guys look worse than you do," she said walking into the light of the kitchen. "Though that would be hard to imagine."
"Hey, darlin'. What 'cho doin' up this time o' night," he slurred and squinted at her.
"Obviously not what you've been doing." He was drunk. She had never seen him drunk. His mutant healing factor took care of the alcohol effects, unless he drank in quantities that it couldn't handle. She didn't even want to think about how much he had consumed.
"S'better that you haven't darlin'." He staggered and started to fall. Jubilee hurried forward and tried to catch him, but holding up 300 pounds of adamantium laced skeleton was impossible and they both fell to the floor, he on top of her.
"Oof!" The breath whooshed from Jubilee's lungs. "Logan," she rasped, "you're squishing me you big oaf." She pushed at his shoulder, but as she had found out a few weeks ago when he was teasing her, he was too heavy to budge. "'Crushed under a man with metal skeleton' is not the epitaph I want on my tombstone."
"I think this is... rather... cozy...."
The sounds of his snores filled the kitchen.
"Wonderful," Jubilee grumbled. "I think it would serve you right if you woke up with the mother of all hangovers. No such luck though."
Somehow she managed to wiggle out from underneath him. She stood and looked down at him, hands on hips. "Men," she said finally. "They all think they're rough and tough but in the end, they all need nursemaids no matter how old they are." She frowned at him. He looked too peaceful for her own peace of mind. She kicked him in the ribs. It was suppose to be a nudge, but it was more of a kick and she paid for it. "Son of a--," she moaned and grabbed her toe and hopped around the kitchen. "Note to self, never kick man with metal bones."
Still, the kick had the desired effect and Logan groan. Toe still smarting, Jubilee leaned down and wrapped her arms under his armpits. "Okay, big guy. You can't sleep down here, let's get to bed."
"Only if you go there with me," he said.
Jubilee froze. He couldn't know what he was talking about; he had to be mistaking her for... well... whomever he was last intimate with. "Let's worry about putting you to bed." Briefly she considered taking advantage of his inebriated state, but rejected that idea. If she ever made love to Logan, she didn't want him drunk out of his senses. She wanted him fully cognizant and at peak performance. She blushed at that thought. "Pervert," she mumbled to herself. "Or desperate." She wasn't that desperate... yet.
She helped him get to his feet and braced one arm around his waist and he threw a hand over her shoulders. Weaving through the house, Jubilee always on the verge of losing her balance, she got him up the stairs to his room as quietly as possible so as not to wake the sleeping household. Logan was singing under his breath.
"Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine." Logan hiccuped. "Never understood a single word he said, but I helped him a drinkin' his wine. Yeah he always had some might fine wine."
"Here we go," she said as they stopped in front of his door. "Let's get you to bed. I don't think I can deal with any more songs."
"Sing joy to the world, all the boy's n' girls. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea, joy to you and me."
"Dude, that's like some serious old fogey music," she informed Logan and scrunched up her nose. Wasn't that a song from an old band called Five Dog Night, or something like that? She twisted the doorknob and pushed open the door with her foot and they stumbled in. His room was less of a wreck than usual. "Here we are, and don't you pass out on me yet or I'll leave you on the floor."
"Slept in worse places," he mumbled and pulled off his ripped shirt. Jubilee tried not to stare. As far as her experience with men went rippling muscles was just a trite clichÈ, but not on Logan. She hoped her tongue wasn't hanging out. He started to unzip his blue jeans, but that's as far as he got before he collapsed into the covers.
"You owe me for this one, Wolvie. Now off with the cowboy hat. You'll just have to sleep in the rest of your clothes, because as much as I'd like to see them off you, now is not the time."
Jubilee reached over for the cowboy hat, and suddenly, quickly, Logan's arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her down on the bed. He easily shifted her weight against him and she found her back pressed against his chest and her rear end against his crotch... she ignored a shiver of awareness. He didn't know what he was doing. Did he?
"Logan! Let me go!" She braced her hands against his arm and tried to squeeze out of his embrace. Judging by the sound of his deep breathing, he was asleep again and his arm was like a steel band around her waist. Resigning herself to a few hours next to him, she reached down grabbed the blankets and wrangling with them managed to cover them both. Not that this was a bad thing, she reminded herself, but she had a feeling she was the one who would pay for it.
* * * *
The sun warm on her face and bright against her closed eyes, Jubilee woke. Something tickled her nose. She rubbed it... her hand froze. Hair? Her eyes popped open.
Hairy chest. Muscular shoulder.
Logan.
He was sleeping on his back; she was snuggled up against him with her head on his shoulder. Her t-shirt had ridden up around her waist and one of his thick arms cradled her against him, his other hand rested on her hip.
She moved her head slightly and looked up at his face. Against her own chest, she felt his rise and fall evenly. Tentatively, cautiously, she reached out and ran a hand lightly across his chest. The guy was superbly buff. With all his excesses, it had to be his healing factor that helped to keep him in peak shape. He didn't stir so she continued her exploration and ran her hand down his stomach. Not an iota of flab on the man. Wonderful.
"Have you seen Jubilee?" a voice said from outside Logan's room. It was Ororo. Her exploring hand stilled and she took a quick breath.
"I spoke with her when she came in late last night," another answered. Bobby. "I bet she's still asleep."
"No, I checked," Ororo answered. "Her bed was rumpled, but she wasn't in it or the shower."
"It's almost noon, maybe she's out with Logan," Bobby replied.
"I think Logan's still asleep."
"Let sleeping dogs lie," Bobby grumbled.
"Logan," came Ororo's voice outside the door.
Jubilee heard the door handle turn. She struggled to scramble out of bed. The arm around her clamped tighter. Logan's eyes popped open, and he pulled her over him onto the other side of the bed, covered her then sat up, his feet thumping to the floor.
"Oh, Logan!" Jubilee heard a started voice followed by a delicate snort. "You look like you've been through the spin cycle." Jubilee could just imagine Ororo standing there with a hand on her hip.
"Worse," Logan replied.
"Have you seen Jubilee?"
"She's around," Logan answered, his answer sufficiently vague. Jubilee felt him shift on the bed.
The door closed and a scant moment later the blankets were whipped off her and she found herself looking up at Logan. He stared down; she stared up. She searched his face trying to assess what he might be thinking, but the only thing that came to mind was that he looked better than a man should after a night of drinking. She clenched her hand to keep herself from touching his face, instead she swallowed and finally spoke.
"Ain't my fault."
"I know." He turned his back to her and rubbed a hand over his face. "Pull your shirt down."
She complied, feeling heat in her cheeks. She sat up and behind him, her legs on either side of his waist and smoothed a hand over his shoulders and down over his back. For a moment he was very still, then stood up and crossed to a battered chest of drawers. There he picked up a cigar, lit it and took a long drag.
"Logan... " she began.
"Better get out Jubes before they find you here."
"We need to talk."
"No." There was a stubborn set to his jaw that she recognized. The I-Don't-Wanna-Talk-About-it look.
"You can't... ."
"Yes I can." He was ignoring the fact that he almost dragged her into bed... well he did, Jubilee reminded herself, and was now excusing her just like that. Like nothing happened. Well nothing did, but it could of.
Could of, would have, should have. None of those counted as far as he appeared to care. Something had gone through his mind during unguarded moments last night, but he wasn't going to acknowledge them. Logan. Typical. Jerk.
Jubilee got off the bed, stood and smoothed down the long t-shirt and, head down, crossed the room to the door. She stopped by Logan and looked up at him. He was still bare chested, blue jeans unzipped. She licked her lips. "What are you planning to do today?"
"What's it to you?" He took a drag on the cigar and exhaled a long cloud of smoke. He didn't look at her, just stared straight ahead.
Jubilee sucked in a short breath. That hurt. "Yeah, what's it to me."
She left, closing the door softly behind her.
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