Remix - Logan and Jean Go Shopping

[x-wolverine.livejournal.com]

Jean goes to check up on Logan, who has been busy exploring the vast and interesting frontiers of biology! But he convinces her to come up for air and to go shopping with him. Logan does her damndest to make Jean's head asplode.



Jean strode through the hallway. She'd always moved quickly but there was something about the rearranged pelvic bone structure that just demanded striding. And if she'd taken a philosophy degree she could write a second doctoral thesis on all this. She was heading for Logan's door and making no bones about it. Logan had barely been out of his room since everything went haywire and Jean was going to see that he got at least some fresh air. And also possibly stop him from... ahem... going blind. Rapping on the door, Jean called out, "Hey, Logan, you decent?"

"Fuck off." said a husky contralto voice from behind the door. The kind of voice that belongs to thousand-plus-dollar-a-night hookers or pros in the phone-sex industry. After a long couple of moments, the door opened to reveal a somewhat touselled Logan, hair sticking out crazily from her head. She was wearing a leather vest that looked like it was raided from someone's very, very private clothing stash and a pair of jeans. She was, for the moment, completely barefoot. She stopped and looked up at ... Jean?

Jean having been the only mansion-resident red-head on the camping trip, it was a safe bet, and the bone structure sold it, really. "Ok, well, you look like a cheap whore." The shock of his reaction to what Logan was wearing briefly robbed Jean of anything resembling tact.

Logan was still lost in the scream of very unfamiliar hormones for just that moment. She wasn't really sure what she wanted, but she wanted it really, really badly. "It's comfortable." she said defensively once Jean's words had percolated through the fog.

"It really doesn't look it," he said. "Especially given the..." Jean bit his lip, eyeing the seriously plunging neckline, and then wrenched her eyes up to meet Logan's, "...um... complete lack of support."

Logan took a deep breath and stretched, just for a moment. The sensation of the leather against her flesh clenched the fist in her lower guts even tighter for a moment and it got more difficult to think again. "Marie was bustier than I am." she said, perfectly seriously. Then, just for fun, she took another deep breath. "So what's up Jeannie?" she asked with that whiskey-soaked purr of hers.

Jean's brain just. Shut. Down. for a few seconds. "Ah..." There was blinking, and then he gave up and pinched his eyes closed for a second to breathe deeply. Thank God Logan wasn't wearing perfume. "Well," she said after a second, opening her eyes and keeping them firmly above the neckline, "I mainly came to see how you were doing. Now, though, having seen..." Damn, damn, eyes going south! STOP! Married man! Er... woman. Fuck. "That is, ahem, having seen, clearly we need to get you some less... less... more... We need to go shopping."

Logan laughed as Jean's scent wafted across her nostrils. Damn, men were dumb. "Do we?" she said again, this time upping the ante by reaching over to rest her fingertips against Jean's somewhat muscular arm for a few moments. "Maybe we should take a look at what I got now before we go out." she said with another low laugh.

Jean firmly fixed his eyes on the wall above Logan's head, wishing thinking about hockey would help in this situation the way (she was told) it was supposed to. "Ok," she said after a second. "I have infinitely more respect for every man who's never just jumped me. Really." It took another second to actually put in effect the mental command to take a step back. "Also," he said, leveling a finger at Logan, "you're evil. And we're going to get you properly clothed."

Logan did her damndest to bat her eyelashes at Jean. "We'll take my bike!" she suggested cheerfully.

"Yeah... no." Closeness and clinging and speed and that was SUCH A BAD IDEA. And had his voice just cracked? "We'll take one of the cars. I'm driving." She would have to concentrate on the road. Oh, but Logan would have hands free. "No, you're driving."

Logan laughed again and then shrugged eloquently. Seems all that time ... however long it was ... watching women ply their wiles had paid off for him. In spades. Poor Jeannie was very, very obviously aroused. She could smell it, she could see it, and she could practically taste it. "Whatever you want, Jean." she said.

"Women are evil," Jean said, heading off down the hall towards the garage. "All of us."

Logan just laughed again. "Yep." she said agreeably, following Jean and his rock-hard ass all the way down to the Garage.

* * *

Logan moved around the racks in the mall's dress store, fingering various concoctions in taffetta, silk, polyester, and cotton distastefully. "Do I gotta get a dress?" she asked plaintively. If her memory was still serving her well, this mall had a Victoria's Secret. Maybe that'd melt Jean's brain into pudding. Be fun trying to find out.

The drive had been non-stressful enough for Jean to calm down, and there was something so inherently feminine about shopping, that Jean was actually doing ok, at least here in the department store. She had, of course, also remembered the lingerie shop at the other end (down a flight of stairs, past the food court, opposite the Payless, her mind supplied) and was NOT THINKING about it. "Nah," she said, waving further into the shop. "We can skip dresses, unless you're planning on coming to the prom. Mainly you need blouses."

Logan breathed a sigh of relief. She had no idea how women put up with such foolishness. ~Probably because it's fun to get them out of~ her treacherous brain supplied helpfully. She followed after Jean, still admiring his slim but toned build. Damn, Jeannie made as hot of a guy as she was normally a woman. The cognitive dissonance nearly sent her reeling into a rack of cable-knit sweaters but she recovered her footing in good time.

Jean glanced back, raising his eyebrows, but forbore to ask what was up. Even if the answer wasn't actually evil inducing, she was willing to bet Logan would do her best to make it be. But, in the glancing back, Jean paused, then stopped, turning around. "Ah." She bit his lip, knowing this was dangerous territory. Damn it. "Um. If we're going to find shirts that fit, you're going to need a bra."

Logan scowled at that idea. "What for?" she demanded. Then her brain caught up with her for a moment. "Never mind. Let's go bra-shopping." she said.

Jean snorted. "Thus furthering my 'women are evil' theory, yes." Be a girl, Jean, be a GIRL. Shopping. Coffee. Girl talk. Silky, frilly things just because, not because... ok, bad thought, bad thought! Turning on her heels didn't work nearly as well without actually wearing heels, but Jean managed it, striding off towards the lingerie section of the store.

Logan got into Jean's slipstream and inhaled. Very nice. She liked the way Jean smelled. It was doing bad things to where she presumed her gonads were hiding out. She wasn't wild about the whole "bra" thing but Jeannie was the local expert. She had quite a few very, very nice numbers in her closet. Very nice ones indeed.

Luckily, Jean had a plan. Logan was loitering slightly behind and she sped up as she reached the lingerie department, plunging straight through the confusing mass of racks and shelves, aiming for the check out counter, which, thank God, was staffed.

'Hi, my name is Cathy!' the perky blonde's nametag screamed out, and she looked up with a brilliant smile as the gorgeous redhead came up to her. "What can I do for you?"

"I desperately need your help," he whispered, leaning in vaguely conspiratorially and shooting the girl a grin. "My girlfriend and her friend are testing me. Her friend, Logan, is going to be here in a second, seriously tramped up and acting like she knows nothing about fashion and I have to be a Perfect Gentleman and help her without, you know, hitting on her. And you're going to see in a second why that's hard. Difficult. Damn."

Cathy blinked, confused, then her eyes widened as she caught sight of Logan. "Yeah. Wow." The fact that she liked her job too much to insult her customers kept her from adding any more.

"So, Cathy. I'm John, this is Logan. Can you help us? She needs, oh, everything." Jean grinned, an 'I'm a guy, no clue what the details are, please save me' grin. "I'm sure you know better than me."

"Hey." Logan said. Luckily her hearing was still as keen as ever and she had overheard the conversation Jean had with Cathy. "Don't believe the hype. Johnny-boy here does part-time work as a cross-dresser." she confided with a wink. "You should see the stuff he's got tucked away. You'd never believe he was a guy underneath. But anyway..." she said, letting her voice trail off.

Jean rolled his eyes, thankful Logan didn't know much about female psychology. Between the button down collar, the slacks and the fact that she was an attractive guy, Cathy was already hooked. Add in Logan's hooker gear and the blonde would rather claw Logan's eyes out than be chums. "Yeah," he said, breathing in and biting his lip. "Under... things. Things my girlfriend can't have me thinking about with other girls. Please?"

Cathy laughed - very much a 'I would never put you through this, poor man, I'd be such a better girlfriend than whoever she is' laugh - and stepped out from behind the counter, waving Logan to follow her. "You stay here, John. Can't let you in on all our secrets now, can we?" It was meant to sound like she was including Logan in on the joke, female solidarity, but the girl had eyes only for Jean. "Follow me, Logan."

Logan, oblivious to the subtlties, marched along behind Cathy. Seems her little joke had backfired on her. Dammit. But she was determined to put up with it with good grace. The odd thing was that Cathy was just the kind of girl he used to like - curvy enough and high-energy. But she didn't feel the slightest stirring of interest. A problem for another time, she resolved, and shoved the thought away from her.

Out of sight of 'John', some of Cathy's energy dropped and she grinned at Logan, a more honest, girl-to-girl grin. "You and your friend are mean," she told her. "I'm impressed. And yeah, if he was my boyfriend I'd probably want some sort of proof, too. For now, let's get you some new bras."

Logan had to bite back a laugh. "He's a tiger in the sack." she confided to her new BFF. The bra-shopping itself was surprisingly tolerable, although it was weird to get used to the feeling of wearing one. Not to mention being measured for one. Logan was almost disappointed that she wasn't bigger. In the rack-size category she was definitely losing out to at least half the Mansion women. She did pick up a few sports bras for working out but most of them were _definitely_ on the provocative side of things. (repeat)

By the time Logan and Cathy made it back to the counter, Jean had made it firmly back into girl-brain territory. Logan's crack about cross-dressing ended up with a lot more credence when they came back to find her browsing through the stockings. The sudden mental 'huh?' caught her attention and she straightened up, managing not to blush. "All set?"

Logan walked over to the stockings Jean was fingering and then made a show out of checking out his legs. "Not your size, sweetie." she teased, pinching "John"'s butt.

Jean all but leaped away from Logan. Shooting Cathy an embarrassed look. "Thanks for all your help," he said, smiling. "And for giving me a break from this... The jeans are a little long," she said, turning back to Logan, "but we have got to get you some shirts."

Logan shrugged again, which did Interesting Things under the vest. "Sure." she said with a wink. "Thanks, Cathy!" she said, clutching her bag of new-found Unmentionables.

Yeah, getting her out of the ves... INTO SOMETHING ELSE was key. And not walking behind her was also key. Jean turned abruptly again, leading the way back towards normal clothes without saying anything.

Logan followed along obediently, still fascinated by the motions of Jean's ass as he walked. It was readily becoming apparent that this whole Girl thing was definitely having its advantages.

Jean wandered through the racks of clothes, pulling things off of hangers and collecting them over his arm, guessing more or less at what size Logan was. Most of the stuff she was picking was much more her style than his, but that was probably just as well. Professionally demure being far better for everyone's mental health than, well, anything Logan would pick. Eventually she turned and dumped the handful in Logan's arms, waving him towards the changing rooms. "Let's see how these look."

Logan looked at the pile of clothes with amusement and then toodled off to the changing room to go try them on. She put the first top on and then came out of the dressing room to show it off. It was a horrible look for Logan - the classic lines which worked so well on Jean scrunching badly on Logan's shorter frame. "Get real, Jeannie." she said, annoyed.

Jean considered it, nodding. "Point. Well, some of the shirts might still work, see if you like any of them and I'll look around for more." She turned, then stopped. "And Logan, wear the bra to try them on? It'll help." Very securely in girl territory, Jean went back to browsing the racks. Baby-tees and the like, to give Logan more freedom of movement, Jean was thinking more about what would make Logan comfortable than how Jean would react when he saw Logan in the smaller, tighter outfits.

Logan tried on all of the stuff Jean had given her. Most of it was pretty awful, but she did keep two or three tops that she kinda liked. The rest were tossed into a pile, gathered up, and handed to the newly-returned Jean. "These all suck." she pronounced. "Got anything else for me?"

Jean couldn't help but grin. Logan was Logan, bluntness and all, regardless of gender. "Yeah, here you go. See if you like these. And I assume 'no' to anything skirt-like, but would you like pants that actually fit?"

Logan had to stop and think about that one for a moment. "Marie seems to like 'em..." she mused out loud. "And yeah, pants that fit would be good. I mean, I may be like this forever so I'd better get fuckin' well used to it, right?" she said before turning around and waggling her ass as she made her way back into the changing room.

"Kay," Jean called over her shoulder, heading back into the store. Pants were easy to find, but she spent some serious time looking through skirts that might suit before part of her brain caught up with a comment about hair and legs that had her quickly turning back to the changing rooms. "I think skirts would be a bad idea," she called when she got in range, "but I found some good pants."

Logan stepped out of the changing booth turned slowly to show off the very, very tight white babydoll T she was wearing. And apparently she hadn't followed Jean's advice about proper female undergarments. "You like it?" she asked, moving towards Jean slowly.

"I... I... Um. Yes. Very... yeah." Oh, thank God there was a large quantity of denim in his arms to keep Logan at bay.

Logan kept up her strut towards Jean, then reached out to pull the denim out of his hands. "I'm glad." she said. And while it was satisfying to watch Jean go all slack-jawed, this thing wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world to go female free-balling in. Come to think of it, it was getting downright annoying. Worth it, but annoying. She put her palm flat against Jean's sternum, laughed, then spun around to walk back into the changing room.

And the retreating view was just as nice. Fuck. Cold showers, Jean. Very cold showers.

Logan couldn't help but laugh as she disappeared into the changing room. First order of business was to peel out of that shirt. Second was to wrestle one of her new bras on. Third was to put on the next top - a simple black scoop-neck that she decided precisely at that moment that she liked. Fourth was finding a pair of jeans she could tolerate. Unfortunately, whoever decided to cut women's jeans they way they were cut deserved to die slowly and left in a shallow grave to be forgotten. Soon enough Logan's cursing could be heard quite audibly.

Deep breaths, think of... something else. Eventually Jean got his brain back under control, around the time the cursing started. So it was just as well he hadn't moved and inch from where Logan had left him. "They too tight?" he called. "Too loose? Too horrible?"

"How the fuck do you do this?" she grumbled at the offending garment. She was tempted to put claw to it, but held herself back. She did not like being thwarted by a stupid piece of clothing.

"Well, the mechanics of putting it on are the same. Er, plus hips." And ass. Nice ass. Dammit. "Which, in theory, they're cut for." Of course, it was only the vaguest of theories, the fashion industry being what it is. "Tell me what the problem is and I can try and find a better cut."

Logan grumbled more. "Hips." she admitted. "They're not that big, dammit!" she groused through the curtain.

Jean couldn't help but grin - that was just too classic a shopping line. "Right. They about the right length?"

"Think so." she said after a moment's consideration. "Yeah." The sounds from inside the dressing room sounded like Logan was treating the exercise like a Danger Room exercise. Finally, she swept the curtain back to reveal her black scoop-neck top and a pair of jeans - unbuttoned but zipped close to all the way up - that deeply flattered Logan's figure.

The grin widened, although Jean took a cautionary step back. "Looking good. Looking real good. I'd say we can either go up a size and switch to the short length, or change brands, cause they're not likely to have a cut that suits better than that does."

Logan quirked an eyebrow as Jean backed off. "I don't bite. Much." she said wickedly. Then followed it up with a quick swipe of her tongue against her lips. "Do you like these?" she said, turning around to show off the marginal junk in her trunk.

"Since when?" was the low, amused question as Jean gave the rear view the attention it (and Logan's blatant request) deserved. "And yeah, yeah I do. I'd say stick to this label if at all possible. It does good things for you." Really good things.

"You think so?" she purred, then laughed. "Pain in the ass to get into ... and out of." she added demurely. "But I think I like 'em."

Demure and Logan was a weird thought. Very weird. Jean focused on that. "Hold on a second while I find another size." Jean vanished into the racks of clothes again and was back in less than a minute with three different size/cut options. "At least one of these ought to work."

Logan snagged the jeans and then butt-waggled her way back into the changing booth. True enough to her prediction, the jeans were as much of a pain in the ass to get out of as they were to get into. But eventually she succeeded in peeling them off and trying on the next pair. Ahh, these fit _much_ better!

"Don't know how much shopping you want to do now, given we've no idea how long this all will last." Jean said, leaning against the wall.

"Just let me try on this one last pair..." she said, and by virtue of adapted long experience in the martial arts managed to cram herself into the last pair. They were so tight Logan feared to move much past a mince lest something give way. So she minced her way out of the changing room to show them off.

Jean was not going to drool, he really wasn't. "Those look like they were spray painted on," he said after a second. The only recourse was fashion. "You need a top worthy of those pants."

Logan just grinned as winsomely as she could manage at Jean. "Agreed." she said. "Got any thoughts?" Logan said, moving as much as she could to keep up with Jean. There was no _way_ she could fight in these things, but she had to admit they did things for her body.

The area around the changing room was far too fuddy-duddy. All the really interesting clothes were up closer to the mall entrance. Jean led the way, knowing they were in the right area when they passed the first pair of leather pants. And when his mind offered up the image of Logan in the leather pants he stopped. Luckily, he stopped in front of a rack of small, sparkly things which were not entirely unlike shirts. Just smaller. "Um, anything from here would work..."

Logan definitely noticed the leather. "mmm." she said as they passed them. "Leather." Then she stopped to look at the sparkly things. Pawing through the racks, she pulled one out. It almost looked like two triangles of sparkly stuff held together by straps and good intentions. "Something like this?" she asked with a grin.

"I thought part of the goal was to end the cheap hooker look?" Jean turned, flipping past a number of clearly unsuitable things. "I know it's my goal. Besides, yellow and gold are really not your colors." There was a red thing which would work, but it was a real halter top, not one of the 'built in support' things, which would be no good.

"You are no fun at all, Jeannie." she pouted.

Jean turned and looked, and then couldn't help but grin. "Ok, not sure I ever thought I'd see you pout." There was a nice deep blue that would work, maybe. Form fitting. Pulling it off the rack, though, she caught sight of the piece behind it. "Oh, now, here we go." Black spandex shot through with silver, diamond cut with built in support because, she flipped it around, yep, backless. "Go. Try this on. If it doesn't fit we will make them find it in your size."

Logan looked at the garment, rotating it around. "Yeah, I think this'll work." she said, and teetered her way back to the dressing room to try it on. After a little bit of creative thinking she stepped out a few moments later wearing the top and those same tight jeans. "Well?" she asked, taking a deep breath and moving in a slow circle.

Jean forgot to breathe. "Yeah," he said after a second. "Yeah, that's... that'll be... good. Really good." The part of her brain which was fighting valiantly on to remember it was a girl pointed out that Logan would need shoes, but that somebody at the mansion would probably have some boots that would work without a heel that would kill him. The rest of his brain wasn't thinking anything except, 'wow'.

Logan moved up close enough to Jean that any closer and she'd have to merge with him. "I'm glad you like it." she breathed up at him. "Thanks for helping me to pick it out."

"Argh." It was about as close to being intelligible as Jean could manage. There was a severe desire to push Logan back to get some breathing room, fighting with a severe desire to pull Logan forward and skip the breathing.

Logan went up on tip-toe and brushed a kiss across Jean's lips. Then she laughed and headed back off to the dressing room to go get back into the vest and the jeans she'd started in.

As Logan backed off, Jean dropped his head into his hands, refusing to watch Logan walk again. "Being a guy sucks."

"No it doesn't." Logan taunted Jean from inside the dressing booth.

* * *

The bistro place Jean had picked out for lunch was very cozy and supposedly had fantastic Italian food. Logan was back in the vest and sloppy jeans, enjoying the looks she was getting from both men and women alike. She almost laughed, it was just so easy!

Jean had given up arguing that the shop would have let Logan wear the respectable clothes out and was simply doing her best to ignore the looks and to shield out the curious mental chatter. The waitress was on her way back with their orders and Jean was too tired and hungry to fight it. "See, this is what you missed by hiding out in your bedroom before," she said.

"I'm ... thorough." she said with a laugh. "Gotta know what this body can do in case I need to push it a little." Under the table she kicked her shoes off and wiggled her toes. Amazing how much better they felt while free.

Jean managed not to gawk. Doctor brain. Quickly! "... I really didn't need to know that, Logan."

Logan just laughed. "Come on, Jean. For us non-telepaths, what chance do we ever get to live life a little on the other side of the street?" she asked.

"I'm not begrudging you your... fun. Simply pointing out the too-much-sharing line behind you. Oh, look, breadsticks." Yeah, that was a subtle distraction.

Logan snickered at the transparent ploy. "Should ask you or the kid for one more favor." she admitted, and held her now-fully-regrown tresses in her hand. "Stupid shit keeps growing back and it's driving me nuts!" she complained.

"Tie it back," Jean suggested. "If it won't stay cut." Jean smiled at the waitress as she set down their food, and stifled a sigh at the girl's blush.

Logan noticed the by-play and just grinned. "Looks like you got an admirer." she said with a smile. "And I tried that. It hurt."

"I'm stuck either way, clearly," Jean said, picking up her fork. "Either I'm getting hit on by bus boys or waitresses. Or both. How so hurt?"

"Kept getting hair caught in the rubber band." she said. "Not my favorite sensation." Experimentally, she wiggled her toes closer to Jean's leg. Then closer.

"Ah, yeah, rubber's not a good thing. I can lend you some hair baaa!" Jean jumped at the feel of toes sliding up his trouser leg. "Logan!"

Logan laughed. "You jump well, Jeannie." she said with amusement. Also, she didn't remove her toes from Jean's trouser leg at all. If anything, she scooted them a little further north. "Oh look. Breadsticks." she commented and grabbed one to ... nibble on.

Jean buried dropped his fork as the toes went further north and buried his face in his hands. "Evil. You. Very."

"Who, me?" she asked, not-at-all innocently, as she nibbled her breadstick in very interesting ways while sending her toes a-roaming. She didn't _quite_ have the length of leg to make things really interesting, but she did her best.

Jean was breathing deeply, and thanking God that Logan didn't have the leg length necessary. "Yes, you. Is there, ah, any chance that," breathe, "if I asked nicely I could, dammit, Logan, persuade you to not try quite so hard to get me to break my marriage vows?"

Logan thought about it for a moment. She didn't say anything, but she stopped playing with her breadstick and just ate the damned thing.

Jean took another deep breath and risked a glance up. "Thank you," he said quietly, straightening in his seat and then freezing as the shift brought Logan's toes further into contact. "Fuck. I wish I was a girl again." She sounded tired.

"I'll bet. Then maybe your spineless husband might come out of your rooms." she said with disgust. "Dammit, Jeannie, you know what I want. Only gonna be like this for a week. Why not explore it, have some fun with it?"

"Don't talk about Scott like that!" His hand had already clenched into a fist before his brain caught up, testosterone plus Jean's overprotectiveness when it came to Scott was a bad combination. "What you want hasn't changed, but neither has what I want. And I'm sorry, ok. Christ."

"He's hiding. Baggy clothes, only comes out to eat." she pointed out uncharitably. But she let the silence move on, and then sighed deeply. "Dammit, Jeannie." she said, sounding almost broken.

"I'm sorry," Jean said, not sounding a hell of a lot better. "I'm sorry I can't be what you want. I can't really even wish things were different. I love him. I..." She trailed off as she realized that an older couple had stopped by their table on their way out of the shop.

"It's all right, sonny," the old woman said, patting Jean on the shoulder. "My grandson's gay, too." Turning to Logan she frowned. "Some boys are just built that way. It's rough, but there it is." Her husband was tugging on her arm, clearly embarrassed to be intruding, but the woman smiled. "Good luck to you both," she said, then turned away.

Logan had to fight _hard_ to keep from breaking out into open laughter. For some reason it was very much more difficult to find her wa, her center. She was all over the place and couldn't just pack it back in where it belonged. No, she had to sit here and embarrass herself and Jean with her stupidity. The lady said no, Logan. Fucking accept it already!

"Right," Jean said, blinking after the little old lady, and turning back to catch the amused look on Logan's face. "Well, that's got to be the crowning moment of an already seriously odd day. Thank God she didn't have blue hair. I couldn't have taken it."

"Jeannie?" she said tenatively. "I'm sorry." she said, and it was one of the hardest things she'd ever done.

Jean took a deep breath, relaxing and smiling faintly at Logan. "Me, too."

Logan cracked a very faint smile at that. "Can't promise I'll be good." she said impulsively.

"You're great, Logan," Jean said, "but I have some serious trouble imagining you being good."

Logan smiled at that. "I'm good at lots of things. Most of them involve hurting people." she said. "Myself included." she added, very softly.

Best there is, Jean's brain supplied, but he kept his mouth shut.

Logan let the rest of the meal pass in relative silence - maybe a couple of smiles here and there, but her playfull mood, her vitality, had drained out of her like water from a bathtub. She looked defeated, maybe even a little smaller. Lost.

Jean really didn't know what to do, with matters being even more clouded by the weird feeling that, as she was seemingly the man in the situation now, she was at fault. Boys weren't supposed to hurt girls. And wasn't that just the most twisted thing ever. Was the situation really any more acceptable when she was the woman and it was too men in love with her? "So," he said, after the waitress had cleared away the meal and dropped the check off, "I've gone and messed everything up, which is what I'm supposed to do, as the guy. Having gotten you all kitted out with proper girl duds, you now get to help me with my guy technique. Fair, no?"

Logan snorted in fine Logan form, although the sound was quite odd coming from a woman like her. "It's easy." she promised. "Whaddya want to know?"

Jean grinned. "Well, am I actually required to play poker with Cain and the rest of the boys? How about sports, I already like baseball and hockey, can I get out of watching football? I mean, I liked it as a girl well enough, but now I'm a guy, surely all the tight pants and ass patting is less acceptable?"

Logan rolled her eyes. "You need Remedial Sports 101, girl." she said. "Baseball and hockey are fine. Football's kinda necessary, although you might be able to slide. But watching because you like their asses is out. Given how you've been reactin', you sure as shit ain't no queer." she said with satisfaction. "You watch for the beauty in execution. The athleticism."

Now it was Jean's turn to snort. "Well, I can hardly argue beauty in execution, given I'm a fan of hockey, but there's something funny about using the term to apply to twelve guys leaping upon each other in an unregulated brawl."

"Hardly that." she pointed out. "Ever seen a football playbook?" she asked curiously.

"Actually, no."

"You should. Might bring a whole new appreciation to the game. Hell, even some of those videogames the kids play will help." she offered.

Jean arched an eyebrow. "I think I can live without the virtual sports experience. And I already know how to drink beer, and will skip the stogie habit, thank you very much. I do dress a little to well to be a Guy guy, but on the whole, I think I'm set."

"Should sit in on one of the card games. As a teep, you might win a buck or two. Talk to the guys. Get to know them as men." she urged.

"It's an interesting idea, I'll admit. Not the card sharking..." Jean paused. "Well, ok, the card sharking, too. But mainly the male bonding thing. World away from shopping trips with the girls, I bet."

Logan just rolled her eyes at Jean. "Think the servers want their table back." she pointed out. "And it's probably cheaper than those ridiculous shopping trips."

Jean stood, offering Logan a hand without even thinking about it. "Depends on how good you are at cards, I imagine."

Logan accepted it, even though she really didn't need it. "Usually play for small stakes. It's the company and the chitchat, not the money, that keeps us comin' back." She stood up and stretched a bit, listening to the metallic popping sounds ripple down her spine. "Ahhh." she sighed in pleasure, then headed out of the bistro.

Jean was getting better at not watching the stretches, he really was. Still took effort, though. "That's really what's at the core of the shopping trips, too, you know."

"And spendin' money." she added uncharitably. "Do you really need fifty pairs of shoes?" Of course, this just reminded him of Ororo and she grew silent for most of the trip back to the school.