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Logan watched her drive off, waving, mentally kicking himself. He wasn’t sure what was about to happen between them, but he had a strong feeling that it was a good start. And just as well, he reminded himself. She was already talking to another guy. He didn’t know if it was going to get serious between them-- her and the other guy-- but it was a little sad that Logan wouldn’t have that chance. Or maybe he did?-he didn’t know. He headed back inside, thinking it over.

It probably wasn’t a good idea. Logan didn’t know if they would be working together, but he knew it could be viewed as favoritism if they did. He wasn’t sure what the repercussions were, but they probably wouldn’t be great. Logan’s imagination got the better of him; he could see his face plastered all over the local news. A page-three-scandal wasn’t his thing. He was getting ahead of himself.

He called Piotr and Remy, to see if they wanted to come drink with him.

Even if they did become a page-three-scandal, they were just now getting to know each other. They weren’t exactly friends, and they were barely acquaintances, but Logan could see them getting close. Logan misjudged her greatly. Ororo was far from boring or any variation of the word. She was interesting. It was a brief conversation, but he liked what he gleaned from it. She was bashful and brave and funny and kind and a hell of a fighter.

It was cruel that he was developing a crush on her, but Logan chuckled despite it. That forbidden fruit!- he just loved it.



Telling their brief encounter over was less exciting than retelling how she slapped him in a parking lot, or how he asked about the color of her crotch, but Remy and Piotr were just as entertained. They weren’t laughing-- well, Remy wasn’t; Piotr always took the stories so seriously and chided Logan’s behavior-- but they were practically hanging on every word.

When Logan finished, Piotr spoke first. “This is good. I thought you two would never get along.”

“Yeah, I did, too,” Logan agreed. “At least we can pretend to be cordial.” Logan looked down at his knuckles, remembering her slim fingers running over the discoloring. He’d left out the part of him being attracted to her, though it certainly wouldn’t take a genius to figure that out. He looked back up; thankfully Piotr wasn’t an asshole.

Unfortunately, Remy was.

“So when you gon’ fuck?” he asked crudely. “For real, this time? I mean, you obviously want to.”

“She’s talking--”

“Homme, let me tell you something. Something important.” Remy leaned in. “Whenever a woman says she ‘talking’ to someone, it means it’s not serious!” Remy smacked Logan’s shoulder hard enough to make it hurt through the thick leather. “She lettin’ you know something important.”

Logan jerked away before he could get hit again. “I’m damn sure she doesn’t want to date me--”

“That’s why I said ‘fuck’--”

“And don’t you ever hit me, Swamp Rat.” Logan drank from his beer, then settled back. “You really think that?” Remy nodded, confident in his words. “Nah,” Logan told himself.

Did she? His male pride was probably getting in the way. He was trailing thin ice with her, they just talked, and she was getting to know another guy. Logan told himself all those things, and yet he couldn’t help but remember how wantonly she ground herself against his cock that night. Who knew? Maybe she did wanna get back with him.

“Yeah, you know it,” Remy smirked.

“You should see if she is getting serious with the other man,” Piotr chimed in, giving Remy a strange look. (Logan knew what that look was-- he’d given Remy the same look every time the Cajun said something idiotic.) He turned back to Logan, continuing. “If Remy is right, you could date her. She seems like a nice woman.”

“Except for the fact that she slapped me and hated my guts for damn near a month or so,” Logan said sardonically.

“Logan, you can’t keep insulting her if you like her. Which you do.” Piotr shifted in the small booth seat. “I think you are saying these things because you don’t want to like her.”

“What? That’s stupid,” Logan scoffed.

“And the truth!” Remy clapped his hands together, rubbing them. “You got it bad.”

“Fuck off.” Logan drank his beer.

That damn forbidden fruit.


Ororo got a text a few hours later. She heard her phone chirp at around two AM, but didn't think to answer it. She was exhausted, and alcohol made her even sleepier. She decided it would just be better to answer it in the morning. And when she did, she felt her stomach swoop.

Wanna go hiking this weekend?-Logan


Chapter End Notes:
I'm gonna get the next four chapters beta'd



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