Men are From Mars, Women are from...
by
Misty
DISCLAIMER : I own nothing. So there. Oh yeah. 'cept a tiny smidgeon of the plot. Okay all the plot. But nothing else. No seriously.
From the soundtrack to My Best Friend's Wedding
Wishin and Hopin and thinking and praying
Planning and dreaming each night of his charms
That won't get into his arms
So if you're looking to find love you can share
All you gotta do is hold him and kiss him
And show him that you care
Show you him that you care just for him
Do the things that he likes to do
Wear your hair just for him
Cause you won't get him
Thinkin' and prayin', wishin' and hoping
Just wishin' and hoping and thinking and praying
Planning and dreamin' his kisses will start
That won't get you into his heart
So if you're how great true love is
all you gotta do is hold him, and kiss him and squeeze him and love him
Just do it, and after you do
You will be his
show him that you care just for him
Do the things that he likes to do
Wear your hair just for him
Cause you won't get him
thinkin' and prayin'
wishin' and hopin
just wishin'
and hoping
and thinking and prayin
Planning and dreamin' his kisses will start
That won't get you into his heart
So if you're thinking how great true love is
All you gotta do is hold him and kiss him and squeeze him and love him
Just do it, and after you do, you will be his
You will be his
You will be his
~*~
"Sensual. Un moviementio sensual. Sensual. Un movimentio muy sexy. Sexy."
The beat began to drift from across the room and the red headed telepath found herself looking up, eyebrow rising in one perfect arch as she watched the young Latino mutant smile, hips swaying to the beat.
She smiled slightly, turning back to the book in her lap that she wasn't reading. With a tired sigh, she finally gave up, fingers sliding up to rub at the spot just under the bridge of her nose, massaging lightly, hoping to alleve some of the tension in her body.
Being a telepath did have certain advantages, that was true enough. Perhaps if Jean wasn't plagued with such a sense of honor and morality it would have served a better purpose, because at this moment it did her no good. Not any power in the world would ever help her understand men. One in particular.
"You look like you need a drink." A glass was slammed down on the table, and Jean jumped slightly, eyes roving upward to perceive the smiling face of her close friend Ororo Munroe. The ebony skinned wind goddess merely gave her a small grin in return, settling down in the chair beside her, holding up a small bottle of tequila. "It seems to be a Latin flavored night."
"Hello, Storm," Jean said, leaning back and eyeing the shot glasses as Ororo unscrewed the bottle. "I take it you heard?"
"Who hasn't?" popped in a voice behind her, and Jean took another breath as one of the younger and newer members of the team settled down opposite Storm, placing down a shot glass of her own. "Welcome to my world, Jean," the southern mutant with the white streak drawled.
Jean glanced at her two teammates with a quirked eyebrow, eyeing the golden liquid. It was tempting. Very tempting. "I don't think we should. The younger students-"
"Ah got rid of 'em," Rogue said, nodding at the now empty community room. "Told them Survivor was on."
"It is?" Storm asked, rising out of her seat slightly.
"Don't worry, I'm recording it." Rogue took a deep breath, and settled back in the chair. "How you holding up, Jean?"
The two mutants gazed at their friend, who merely sat in silence, eyes slightly moistened, as she took a long breath, and sighed.
"Is he still angry?"
"If you caught him flirting with Rogue-"
"Logan and I were NOT flirting."
"Sugar, I know that. Storm knows that. But Scott... well that's a horse's ass of a different color," Rogue interjected, her voice slightly dry, but with no ill mannered humor.
A small smile slid on Ororo's face and Jean gave an exasperated breath out. Rogue was right. Lately, ever since Logan's return, Scott had been... on edge. It had gone from mildly cute to increasingly annoying in a matter of weeks. Jean had been understanding and patient, telling him over and over, and OVER how Logan meant nothing to her, how they were only friends, how Scott was the ONLY man in her life, blah, blah blah. It did nothing.
Leave it to Scott to misunderstand how a simple hug for saving your life meant nothing more than that, and was not a confirmation of your undying love for one another.
Naturally, Jean was tired of assuring him. Naturally he was more than defensive. And naturally what had been a simple misunderstanding had turned into a full blown argument that had become fodder for the Xavier school gossip chain for months.
Jean shrugged her shoulders. "Should I get a lemon?"
"Now we're talkin'!" Rogue sat up, banging the table. Ororo gave another one of her trademark beautiful smiles and popped open the cap, hand sliding through her hair and leaning forward.
Jean watched as Rogue's eyes danced at the sight of the pouring liquid. "Rogue," she began hesitantly. "You... you don't think-"
Rogue gave her a quick look and just rolled her eyes. "Jean honey, don't even go there. I know you love Scott, okay? The Logan issues I have are between me and him. Besides, I've been in your situation. Me and Ororo just worked out somethin' of our own."
"Something of your own?"
"Remy has something of a wandering eye," Storm quietly informed her. "It's beginning to piss me off."
OH.
"So Ororo and I decided since WE were in the shit with OUR fella's, we might as well make it a party." The song on the radio blared out again, and she wrinkled her nose, giving it a strange look. "What the hell is on the radio?"
"La Boooomba," Ororo answered, giggling slightly as she held the glass up to her lips. "Sensual. Very sensual song."
"Well I get that, what with all the drawling about how sexy it is," Rogue snorted, laughing as she pulled the lemon from her pocket. "Should I change it?"
"Leave it on," Jean suggested, getting the shot glass designated for her. "I like the beat."
From the other pocket Rogue produced a container of salt. "On three?"
"Mmm!" Storm quickly cut the lemon into wedges, passing them out. Quickly the three women licked the appropriate spot on their hands and passed the salt around. "To men!"
"To mutant men!"
"To mutant pig headed men who don't have a CLUE!" Jean added, and the three X-Men slammed their hands down on the table. One. Two.
"THREE!" Rogue squealed, hands were licked and the shots went bottoms up.
Ororo managed to splatter some on her cheek and she found herself laughing helplessly, trying to catch up as the others grabbed the lemon wedges and bit into the fruit.
"GOD that burns," Jean said, as the two women laughed beside her. "But it feels damn good."
"Mmhmmm." Rogue gave the empty glass a pout. "It's good stuff."
"It should be. I stole it from Remy's own personal cabinet."
"Oooh. Frenchman tequila. Is that an oxymoron?"
"He knows his alcohol I'll give him that," Storm said, her voice suddenly a tad bit somber as she looked at the bottle.
The table got quiet.
"Hey, wait a minute." Jean's eyes narrowed as she gave the wind mutant a half glare. "I thought we were going to avoid men in this discussion."
Rogue snorted. "Honey we're women in love. All this is is an excuse to bitch about how sucky they are and cry over how we can't live without them."
"I've never cried over a man," Storm said indignantly.
Jean grabbed the bottle from her and brought it to her lips. "No but that storm last week did break a window," she reminded her.
"That wasn't because I was crying," Storm interjected quietly.
Jean and Rogue gave her a look and when Storm very nearly leered they cracked up, Jean accidentally snorting some of the tequila out of her nose, which only resulted in Rogue laughing harder.
"Okay, so best sex life in the mansion goes to Ororo Munroe."
Jean gave her a nod, passing her the bottle. "Cheers."
"Thank you, thank you. I'd like to thank my parents, my agent, and my leech of a boyfriend for being great in the sack. Another round."
"Please."
~*~
When the shots had reached three, Jean had reached a pleasant euphoric feeling.
She sighed, leaning back, raising an eyebrow. "I believe I like being drunk," she declared. "Besides the very PAINFUL experience of tequila coming OUT of my nose-" she gave her laughing friends a very serious glare. "That hurt- I think I should get drunk more often. I'm too... confined. I'm constricted."
"You're very, very sloshed," Rogue added, her forehead on the table where it had accidentally fallen a few seconds before. "Hey, Storm."
"Yes, Rogue?" Storm smiled merrily from her place across the room, swaying lightly with the Latin music that was still playing.
"Join us. I think we're sufficiently inebriated to talk about what's wrong with men."
"Oookeee." She came forward, flipping her long white hair back and straddling the chair, looking at her two colleagues. "Who's first?"
Jean raised her hand. "Me! Pick me!"
"Jean Grey has the floor." As confirmation, Jean was passed the half empty bottle.
"Thank you." She rose from her chair and began speaking dramatically. "I suffer from a very insecure fiance. He believes I do not love him enough, and has a VERY unstable mind. And it pisses me off because I DO love him even though I want to kill him. Next?"
Rogue had the bottle. "My affliction is a man called Wolverine. He, apart from a few times when he has lost what little control he has and ravished me (which I liked very much) has refused to act on anything with me because he thinks I'm jailbait, and/or is a commitment phobe, and it's pissing me off. He also avoids the issue with me, thereby making mine a tragic and slightly stupid affliction. Miss Munroe?"
"My turn already?" Storm smiled prettily, taking the bottle daintily, and narrowing her eyes at it. "I suffer from a relationship that began as a fling and because very serious, very soon, scaring the hell out of me when I realized I was falling in love with the mansion sex fiend." She raised an eyebrow. "He's not taking it too well either. And that pisses ME off."
Rogue sucked in her breath and leaned forward, taking the bottle and pouring another round.
"Shall we?"
"We shall."
Jean shook her head, taking hers a bit unsteadily. "TO MEN!"
"HEY!" Rogue's eyes widened when Jean gulped it down. "You're supposed to wait for all of us!"
"I'll catch up."
"I think Jean's lost it." Storm's eyes were thoughtful, until she nearly slipped out of her chair.
"We're three hot women. I mean look at us. We're HOT." Rogue looked down at herself, sticking her chest out. "These are a nice set of boobs, right?"
"Very lovely, Rogue," Jean agreed. "And a nice butt, to go along with it."
"How are mine?" Storm suddenly asked. Jean leaned over to look.
"Very nice also. Mine?" Both women peered into her cleavage.
"Very Lopez'y," Marie commented.
"Good."
"That's 'xactly my POINT!" Rogue exclaimed. "We're HOT! We could do better than what we got, right? I mean... why do I need to wait for Logan?"
"He's got a great ass," Storm commented.
"And very large hands," Jean added.
"Yes... that... but that's not the point. Why are we WAITING for them to make moves? Why are we in here... we're three hot women getting drunk. How... pathetic-"
"It is NOT pathetic. It's bonding," Storm interjected. "I'm very bonded right now." This time she actually slid OFF the chair.
"Not enough to stay in the chair, 'Ro," Jean commented, giggling slightly, until her face suddenly straightened. "Rogue has a point."
"Hell yeah I do!"
"I mean what's so great about the guys we have? Really? I mean," she pointed to herself, "tight assed stick up the butt team leader. You, Rogue - Neanderthal cave man with claws, and Storm, can Remy's accent and talking in the third person be ANY more annoying?"
"Remy's accent can be annoying," Rogue nodded thoughtfully.
Storm just shrugged, a secret smile emerging on her lips. "You haven't heard it close to your ear, when you can see his eyes, dark and vibrant, his forehead sheening with sweet, this look of blissful surrender... when he speaks to you ... at that moment..." She bit her bottom lip, her face just a bit flushed. "French can be an incredible turn on at the right time."
"And Logan isn't really a caveman," Rogue added. "I mean, I know he comes off all gruff and mean, and don't get me wrong he's a mean son of a bitch, but... sometimes...he can just be... so sweet. In that Logan way, when he's not worried about what everyone thinks of him. Sometimes I think he's so busy trying to be who he thinks he's supposed to be cause he doesn't really know himself. He's afraid of new stuff, you know? Of things changing. He likes thinking he can control stuff. And he can't control me anymore. Scares the hell outta him."
They both looked at Jean, who seemed rather deflated. "Scott doesn't really have a stick up his butt," she admitted grudgingly. "Especially during.. you know. He just... when he was a kid, everyone always used to wonder why we were together. Me being older.I mean I was insecure enough about it, the age difference, but he would just get so defensive about it. He tried to grow up, to be the man he thought I wanted him to be. He went from 16-22 overnight, it seemed. He was busy trying to be this old man, he'd forget it was the boy I fell in love with."
A silence of gloom and brooding had settled over the table, as each women seemed lost in thought.
It was Storm who broke the silence. "You sometimes wonder if it's us?"
Rogue raised an eyebrow. "'Scuze me?"
"What I mean is this." Storm took a few beats, mouth puckered as she tried to frame her thoughts. "Here we are, talking about them... I mean me with Remy and his... philanderous intentions, but... I've never TOLD him how I wanted something else. I'm scared to. But how is he supposed to know? And you Jean, have you ever actually SHOWED Scott that he has nothing to be worried about? And you, Rogue? Have you ever TOLD Logan that you want something more than repeated fumblings? It just seems... we're taking quite a bit for granted."
"Wishin' and hopin, and thinkin' and prayin'," Rogue muttered under her breath, eyes on the shot glass before her.
Jean ventured a rueful smile. "I loved that movie. Julia was such a bitch."
"She was on a mission of love."
"She also ended up with the gay guy." A beat. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."
Ororo chuckled slightly. "But she tried."
"We're also forgetting that is was a MOVIE," Rogue added. "Not exactly lifelike."
"Still... us sitting here drowning our sorrows away on a ... now empty bottle isn't helping us any."
Rogue nodded slightly, but said nothing.
Jean took a breath, watching the two women before her. "Well? Council asks for suggestions."
Storm was quiet, but a suddenly smile slid across her face. "I can bet we have just as much balls as those men do."
"Balls?" Rogue leaned forward. "I'm intrigued."
"Likewise," Jean added.
"We've been waiting around for these men to take action in OUR lives. Let's do a little bit of action taking of our own. We're X-Men-"
"X-Persons," Rogue interrupted.
"Stop being so damn PC, Rogue," Jean tossed.
"We're X-MEN," Storm emphasized, reaching over to nudge Rogue, "aren't we?"
"HELL YAH!" Rogue's hand slammed down on the table, and suddenly the wood gave way, cracking down the middle and making them all jump away from the table. "Woops. Did I do that?"
"Rogue, 'member what I said about watching your strength?"
"Yeah."
"Just checkin'."
"Ladies." Storm had her hands on her waist and her eyes were twinkling. "Shall we?"
"Shall we do what?" Jean jabbed Rogue, and her eyes lit up. "Oh. Yeah, sure. I'm game. Do we get to kick their asses?"
"Very close."
"Then I'm in."
"Me too!" Jean raised her hand and smiled, her beautiful face looking positively wicked. "As long as I get to dance."
~*~
The Creole was playing cards when she slid into the room.
His eyes were curious, hands caught in mid air when the Storm Goddess clicked the door shut behind her.
"Goddess?" he queried, looking slightly confused, and rightly so. "I thought you told Remy he wasn't your favorite person, non?"
"Remy, not the third person," she said, shaking her head. Her voice was soft, but so very determined, in a tone he rarely heard anywhere but the battlefield.
"Oh-kay." He paused slightly, smiling at her gently as he slid his feet off the table, sitting up.
Ororo Munroe had fallen into this relationship quite by accident, a fling that she had vowed never to have that had quickly escalated into something that seemed at best warm, tender and loving, at worst very unhealthy and unproductive.
"Remy I have a few things I wish to say to you."
He looked uncertain, there was a dread that slid onto his face, and before Storm could go further he shot up, coming forward, grabbing her hands gently.
"Look Goddess, I don't want- that thing with Rogue was NOTHING, she meant-"
"Remy-"
"A conversation. Old habits die hard, mon ami, but Remy- I - meant NOTHING by it-"
"Remy-"
"I don't want to lose you-"
"Neither do I." He paused uncertainly at the clipped voice, and Ororo raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling playfully. "Sit down, Remy." She gently pushed him back onto the bed, and then sat besides him, drawing her feet up gracefully beneath her. "Remy," she began finally. "When this began I told myself it was only for the fun of it. I had gone a rather... long time without.. sex... and I figured it would be a good way to loosen up."
"Ororo-"
"Shut up, Remy," she said sweetly. "Now. This has gone on for four months and I can no longer keep lying to myself about this. This is a relationship, and unfortunately... I love you." His face was absolutely passive, and Storm felt her strength ebb slightly as her mouth went dry, but true to her nature, she merely took a deep breath and moved on. "I want you. But I am selfish, Remy. I want to be the only one. The decision is yours." With that, she got up, albeit a bit shakily, and with another deep breath, she moved quickly to the door.
"Goddess." The crack in his voice made her stop, her heart pound slightly, and when one gloved hand touched hers, when it turned her and she found her body pressed against his harder, masculine form, when her dark eyes met his blazing ones, so intense and full of emotion, she felt the trembling morph into one shudder of absolute pure emotion. He swallowed, his fingers reaching up to trace her face. "I can watch you sleep forever. You make dis heart POUND, mon ami. And I talk to you. Dere is not flirting wid you. But dere is de talking. I love de talking. I love... dis hair. And the voice. Storm. Ororo. Friend. You ARE the only one. I just wasn't sure if Remy was the only one for you."
The words were followed by his lips gently pulling at hers, cementing his words, and when Storm felt him pull back, she found her heart beating and her knees weak, and the mansion slut was in her arms, and was hers. Completely hers.
"Silly Ororo," he smiled. "You simply had to just tell me."
And so she did. "I love you, Remy."
And she was rewarded with the world's most beautiful smile, followed by the world's most beautiful kiss, by the world's most beautiful man.
As for the third person talk... well... no one was perfect.
~*~
He had been buried so deeply in his books he hadn't heard the doors lock. He hadn't heard anything, his face a mask of concentration as his hands slid through the short brown bangs, mouth silently sounding out the words and reports.
When her delicately manicured finger pressed the button on the recorder, he didn't hear the click.
"Es la majia de tu cuerpo-"
He jerked up, hands flying down from his hair, glasses glinting as his face slid to the record box, and found Jean standing in front of it.
"Scott."
"Jean!" he breathed, too surprised to be angry as she merely smiled, sliding up on the chair, the trenchcoat she wore parting slightly to reveal one silken smooth leg and thigh. He froze slightly, and she could almost hear his mind whirring, clicking into place. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk to you."
"In that?"
"In what?" she looked down innocently, swinging her leg slightly.
"Jean..." he stammered slightly. "The... coat... what are ... there... JEAN ARE YOU -"
She found herself smiling slightly as she reached up and flipped open a lapel, flashing him quickly.
His mouth dropped and he almost fell back into the chair.
"How nice of you to notice."
If she had been able to see his eyes, she would imagine they were wide as saucers.
"Are you drunk, Jean?" he began in the most reprimanding voice he could muster.
She barely managed to avoid rolling her eyes. "Just a wee bit tipsy, Scott. Nothing to worry your cute little head about." her smile widened slightly. "I find alcohol to be an excellent way to strip away inhibitions."
"God, Jean," he breathed, slamming the books closed, a bit of perspiration shining on his forehead. "Come on, let's get you to the room."
"I don't want to go to my room."
"Jean, you're NAKED under there."
"Haven't you ever fantasized about doing it in the library?"
The question struck him cold. "WHAT?!"
"Oh come on, don't tell me you haven't."
"Jean you're drunk."
"Oh, shush." She slid off the table, looking around the library. "When you were in school, didn't you ever wonder... if we could-"
"Jean if this is about tonight-"
"Scott, shut up."
He shut up when she pushed him down on a chair and sat on him.
He gulped, she looked down and smiled. "Good. Now that all of you is at attention, I can begin."
She wriggled slightly and he groaned, hands involuntarily sliding to her waist. "You have very big issues with insecurity, Scott. Now I want to show you something." Keeping her thighs clamped firmly around his, she reached for his shirt.
"Jean, don't-"
"Scott, I said to shut up."
She continued to pull, until finally she was able to push the shirt up to his chin. Her eyes drifted down the bare chest, and her eyes twinkled slightly. "Look at this chest, Scott. Do you realize HOW many girls and women, WOMEN, mind you, I've had to chase from the men's locker room when you're changing?" her fingernail slid down his chest, pausing once to flick across the hard nub on his left pectoral. "This is a beautiful, beautiful chest." Her smile grew wider as she slid her hands up under his shirt to fan out over his shoulders. "And these... broad, and muscled, lean and not all hairy. Scott they are just... YUMMY." He groaned slightly, his breathing labored, as she slid up against him further. "This jawline is just... mmmm." His mouth fell open as her lips pressed against the stubble of his chin, tongue reaching out to lick a trail up to press a gentle kiss on his lips. Her eyes were on his as she whispered against his mouth. "You want me to continue?"
"God, yes." She smiled when his hands slid around her, pulling her into him until she was cradled on his lap, mouth moving against his in a passionate fervor that hadn't overcome him in years. The chair toppled over and they landed with a thud on the floor, and Jean found herself shrieking with laughter, holding onto her lover with all her might as he suddenly smiled with her, a beautiful smile that held faint memories of the boy he had left behind long ago.
When her eyes met his, her laughter died, and on her face was a pure expression of love and adoration as she reached up to trace his lips gently. "Oh, yes. If I forgot to mention. I love you, Scott. Just you. Always you. And I'm LUCKY to have you. Do you believe me?"
His lip, his perfect bottom lip, trembled slightly, and he nodded, mouthing the words, "I'm sorry." She knew he meant them, for as she reached out in her mind, she was over come with the sense of trust and love that had enveloped him. It was almost euphoric. He reached down, kissing her softly, lovingly, and with such passion that Jean truly felt weak-kneed.
His hand slid to the lapels of the robe, and her eyes opened when she heard him exclaim, "SHIT. You really ARE naked under there."
The laughter that burst out at this was quickly silenced, and Jean, who did not need words to talk, did not complain.
And Scott Summers, who really DID fantasize about the library and Jean when he was in high school, completely forgot about his books that night.
~*~
Logan had been asleep when he was awakened by a young mutant with a streak of white hair staring at him from the edge of his bed.
"SHIT MARIE." He scrambled up, using the sheet to cover up the fact he slept in the nude quite unsuccessfully, as Rogue's ever widening smile indicated. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE? GET OUT!"
"No," she answered calmly.
"Marie, that's not a request. I'm naked under here, and-"
"I know." She raised an eyebrow. "Logan you've been in mah head, remember? I know EXACTLY what you look like because you conceited man like to look at yourself in the mirror an AWFUL lot."
His eyes narrowed, and he almost groaned, but never got the change, because Rogue, or as he knew her, Marie, crawled up onto the bed and sat on his knees.
"Rogue get out."
"I said no, and don't you dare growl at me, this is important."
His eyes narrowed, and he squirmed, but Rogue's acquired strength came in quite handy as she kept him pinned. "We need ta talk."
He kept trying to pull the sheet up as he gruffly answered, "Can't wait until morning, kid?"
"That'd be a no. Because tomorrow morning I won't be tipsy and I might lose mah nerve. 'Sides, I promised myself I'd get some tonight."
"HUH?!"
"Oh, relax, honey." She smiled, slapping his thigh gently. "It ain't gonna be with you."
His eyes widened, but she merely smiled sweetly and continued. "See, sweetie, here's the thing. I'm tired. You just can't seem to make up your mind about me, and I'm tired of waiting. I'm young I have needs, and I'm HOT, Logan."
"Marie-"
"Shut up, Logan," she interrupted sweetly. "So you see, I'm here to make sure there's no misunderstandings about all of this. You wanna be my big brother, that's GREAT. But it starts now. No more playing grabbies or anything, it's strictly business." She leaned forward, hands trapping his when he tried to use them to leverage her off of her. "Eyes on me, sugar." The dark feral eyes met her own, and she smiled slightly, boring into them. "I want someone ta love me sugar. Not tomorrow, not in ten years, NOW. I'm done waiting. So tonight, I'm going to find something who will." She started to pull away, but was suddenly pulled back, sprawling forward onto Logan's chest.
"Ooomph. Logan, lemme go."
"Marie that's fucking stupid," he spit, struggling beneath her, forgetting all about the blanket, it seemed in his attempt to keep her on top of him. "You're asking to get your heart broken here."
"Right, cause this has been SO healthy for me," she muttered, now struggling with him. "Lemme go."
"Not until you tell me who put you up to all this nonsense," he bit out, hand sliding over her waist, keeping her down on him, legs suddenly moving out and trapping her down between his thighs.
She gave him a surprised look and looked down, blinking once or twice.
"Uh... Logan."
"Who, Rogue? Remy?"
"What?! NO."
"I'll kick his ass-"
"Logan, Remy's in love with STORM, any dumb ass can see that."
His eyes narrowed. "Bobby?"
"Bobby got over me years ago. Will you please stop grinding yourself on me?"
"I'm not grinding on you."
"Well you coulda fooled me. and WATCH YOUR HANDS!"
"Scott?!"
"WHAT?!" her eyes widened and she stopped her squirming to glare at him. "Are you crazy?!"
"Then who?"
"Jean and 'Ro!"
"JEAN AND RO?!" His hands still for exactly one second, enough to get her to loosen his grip and pull back, but he merely slid his ankle over her calf and knocked her back onto his chest. Not a bad place to be, really, but still, very disconcerting.
"Not like THAT you idiot. Not that there's anything wrong with that." Her gloved hands planted themselves firmly on his chest. "Logan you're not making this trying to break up with you any easier."
"That's the damned point."
"What?"
"Listen, kid. I hate to break it to you but, NO ONE is touching you."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes Logan, we all know that," she began in a patronizing tone. "My control-"
"Turn it on."
"What?"
"Turn it on." She blinked in confusion.
"Logan turning it on is harder than-"
And his hands slid around her neck and suddenly her face was pulled down and her mind scrambled and found the lock in the nick of time, as his lips suddenly began to plunder hers, pulling her body closer and closer to his naked one, hands and legs weaving around her, maneuvering, until suddenly when he released her lips she was completely pinned under a very hard body.
"Logan, what that-" And his lips descended again, catching hers in a moan. GOD, the man had the most beautiful lips. His teeth gently took her bottom one in, suckling gently, tongue sweeping against the length of it before reaching up and demanding more movement from her top. Her eyes closed as she gasped, writhed under him, as his hot mouth pressed wet circles on the side of her mouth, lower, to her neck, to her collar bone, and GOD- lower.
"Logan," she managed weakly. "This isn't changing things."
"Oh, yes it is." He paused, and suddenly hands were cradling her face, and dark, feral eyes were looking into hers with such depth and intensity it took her breath away. "Listen to me, Marie, and listen good. I've waited long enough. It's time for you to make the full commitment here. I've tried to be good about letting you have your flings, but the love thing, that's reserved for and me only. So if you're ready for that, you give it to me. I'm the only one. You got it?"
Rogue stared at him, at the edge in his voice and the expression on his beautiful face that seemed.... scared. So very scared. Of losing her.
"So... you're ready?" she asked thickly, breathing hampered by the incredibly masculine man on top of her.
"Rogue, I've been ready forever."
"Oh, good," she managed weakly. "Cause umm.. so am I."
And his lips spread into the most delicious grin. "Good."
"Good to know."
"Rogue, darlin'."
"Yes, Logan."
"Shut up."
Yes, she decided. She had done enough talking for one night.
~*~
Her hand lurched out and he reached out and steadied her for the fifth time since they had begun their walk to the cafeteria. Stom offered Gambit a rueful thanks, seconds before she insisted she was very capable of walking by herself.
"I'm fine," she repeated, breathing in to counter the jarring headache.
"Mon ami, you are anything but fine," Remy answered, hands at her elbows, keeping her back against his chest as he walked with her slowly.
"I'm fine," was her answer, slipping again and once again caught by Remy. "It's only a headache and acute nausea."
Gambit gave a small smile, squeezing her shoulders as he once again held her steady. "Typical of any hangover-"
"I DO NOT HAVE A HANGOVER!" The pair turned to find the door on their right opening, Jean emerging in Scott's arms, her eyes unusually bright as she continued her emphatic exclamations. "I'm just... I'm not drunk!"
"No you're not, you're hungover," Scott said, giving Storm and Remy a tight smile. "Hey."
"Hello," Remy answered, keeping his grip on Storm firm.
Jean blinked and then settled her eyes on Storm. "ORORO! Do I have a hangover?"
"I'm not sure. Does your head hurt?" Ororo responded.
"Just a little."
"Do you need to project bile?"
"Uh... I'm a doctor. I should know this."
"How much did you guys drink last night? I think she's still-" Scott demanded, gathering Jean closer, who still seemed to be lost in thought.
"What the hell's wrong with them?" Logan's voice popped up behind them, and Remy and Scott both turned to find the feral man standing next to a wide awake and smiling Rogue.
"Have a good night, girls?" she asked, devilishly.
Storm cocked an eyebrow, leaning into Remy's chest as she gazed at Rogue. "How come you don't want to project bile?"
"Huh?"
"We have hangovers!" Jean pronouced. "And that is my medical opinion."
Rogue crossed her arms, sharing a look with Storm. "Never been one for alcohol has she?"
Storm shrugged. "Her tolerance has never been high."
Jean's head lifted from Scott's shoulder. "ROGUE!"
Rogue smiled. "Jean!"
"Do you have a hangover?"
"Nope. I inhereted a very high tolerance from fuzzy over here." She nudged Logan, and he merely narrowed his eyes.
"What the hell did you guys do last night?"
"We bonded," Storm added. "And we got laid." Remy coughed, turning red as Storm groaned again, closing her eyes and holding a hand to her head.
"It was a PLAN!" Jean exclaimed, kissing Scott's cheek.
Logan continued to look incredibly suspicious. "Rogue-"
Rogue coughed nervously, and suddenly she darted forward, pulling Storm from Remy's arm, and sliding over to Jean. "Jean! We need to debrief. NOW! Come on, 'Ro."
And supporting her two elder drinkers in crime, Rogue walked very quickling into the lounge, leaving the men to watch her with puzzled frowns on their faces.
Remy gave them a quick glance. "They had a plan, no?"
Scott blushed slightly, coughing and shrugging. "When those three get together..."
Logan crossed his arms and regarded the closed door. "For the life of me, I'm never going to understand women," he pronounced. "Anyone feel like a drink?"
Remy immediately nodded, and Scott just shrugged again. "Sure."
FIN
I know something about love
You've gotta want it bad
If that guy's got into your blood
Go out and get him
If you want him to be
The very part of you
Make you want to breath
here's the thing to do
Tell him that you're never going to leave him
Tell him that you're always gonna to love him
Tell him, Tell him, Tell him, Tell him right now
I know something about love
You've got to show it now
Make him see the moon up above
Go out and get him
If you want him
Make your heart sing out
If you want him to only think of you
Tell him that you're never going to leave him
Tell him that you're always gonna to love him
Tell him, Tell him, Tell him, Tell him right now
No episodes of Seinfeld were hurt in the creation of this fan fiction. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
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