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It was nearly a week after she first got the news of his return, did she actually see him…but that too from afar as he pulled out of the mansion gates. He was no longer living in the mansion, but at the apartment, he had rented out for Laura (X23) and Jubilee.

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It had been before his coming to her in Africa. He had set all his affairs in order, including setting up things for the two teenaged girls. One of them, Laura, was still very reluctant to return to the school, even having run away once, right up to San Francisco and the other, Jubilee, a living firecracker, had had her fuse stamped out, losing her powers just as millions of other mutants around the world.

Laura had returned finally after repeated requests on his part, while Jubilee, he had tracked down to a bankrupt and condemned galleria mall in Los Angeles, California.

Having lost her powers, she had retreated to what had been her first shelter after she first gained her powers and lost her parents. Forcing herself not to press the number one button on her speed dial, the one with Logan’s cell phone number entered in it, she had told herself, grow up, little girl.

Worried about her, he caught her story in the Ex-Mutant Diaries and tracked down the columnist, Sally Floyd. She, recognizing him, both as an X-Man and as the man who had been in the photographs Jubilee had shown her, during her reminiscence of the adventures she used to have with her Wolvie, told him where she last met the girl. From it had been easy enough to track her. Reaching her, Logan almost broke down himself, tears appearing in his eyes at the way the shocked, dumbstruck and above all relieved Jubilee leapt into his arms, her painstakingly erected emotional dams all breaking down in an instant. All at the sight of the man she had saved all those years ago in Australia and who over the years had not only returned that favor many times over, but had become a friend, teammate, mentor and father figure to her.

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“I can smell his passion for you,” T’Challa had told her, his tone condescending, as if rebuking her for choosing of the short, stocky feral Canadian above him.

“And how many women are there in your harem these days, King T’Challa,” She had thrown back him, her retort clearly expressing her taking offence of his insinuation, while masking her own reluctance at analyzing the truth behind it.

----

He had come to her, seeking sanctuary, and sanctuary she had provided.

For three weeks, he was with her, no, it was three weeks before that night, three weeks before he touched her, before she touched him back….before they made love…..before he told her that he loved her….before she left him and had run away.

It had not been planned, not by either of them, it just….just happened, as if it was destined. It did not happen in the heat of passion, yet it was full of passion and primal heat. She had not wanted it, yet she did, not making any move to stop herself as she leaned in to meet him halfway, their first kiss setting off the charge on the fire that consumed both of them.

The memory of that night was still fresh within her, as if it had just happened yesterday and not all those months ago. She could still feel the soft touch of his lips on hers, his hot breath on her cheek, the slightly bitter taste of the cigar he had just smoked. She could feel it all, her fingertips grazing along her lower lip as the memory surged through her.

They moved as one, with him taking her completely, just as completely she had taken him. His words and actions had made her feel like a woman, not the goddess or the leader or the x-man, but a complete full-bloodied woman, one who deserved to be loved, one who was loved….by him.

….And therein lay the problem.

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The even breaths and slowed heartbeat of the snow haired goddess lying in the circle of his arms, her face at the crook of his shoulder, her long lithe and completely bare limbs entangled with his equally bare ones, told Logan she had fallen asleep.

“Got somethin’ to tell ya ‘Ro,” he murmured into her snow silken hair, his hand along her back, his thumb caressing along the gentle curve of her spine, his eyes staring far into the night sky.

“Need ya ‘Ro,” he continued. Taking a deep breath, a contented smile formed on his lips. He had always loved her scent. Fresh rain, flowers and the barest of vanilla and honey, that was who Ororo Monroe was, an intoxicating earthy scent that drove him wild at the best of times. The fact that right then, his own leather, cigar and outdoorsy scent was mixed with hers, only served as the cherry topping to the proverbial cake…..one which he wanted to have, to make his own….for eternity.

Lost in her, he carried on with his mumblings, his heart opening up to reveal things he otherwise might not have said….at least not so soon.

“Loved Silver, loved Jeannie,” he found himself saying those names without any of the pain that their loss had brought to him. “Even loved Rose,” he sighed at he recalled the first love of his life. A love that until a few months ago he had no memory of.

“But you….yer like none of ‘em. Yer like Miko,” he smiled sadly at the mention of Mariko Yashida,, the only woman, apart from the one with him right now, who had been able to bring peace to his ravaged hear…to the beast inside him.

“I love ya ‘Ro,” there, he finally said it, his breath hitching when he felt movement and changed heartbeat from Ororo. However, seeing and feeling her squirm against him, her body perfectly molding against his own, he calmed down. “Love ya,” this time his whisper was just loud enough for himself. “Just like Miko…..maybe even better….maybe even more.”

“Can’t lose ya….not now….not ever.”

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Waking up, next morning, Logan stretched, sat up and found that he was alone….ALL alone.

Note: Spoilers for this chapter: New X-Men (#20, #22), Generation M #01, #02, Black Panther #08, Wolverine #40

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