[Marie, Logan] 24-48 hours is all it takes.

[x-rogue.livejournal.com]

After a week loaded with serious conversation, things continue to evolve. Character development, really, all fluff.


Marie bounded up the stairs and knocked once on Logan's door before letting herself in. Her cheeks were flushed from the brisk March air and her hair was slipping out of her ponytail to fall in charming but disarrayed locks around her face. She wore old jeans and an Xavier's jacket and looked barely all of her eighteen years when she came bouncing across the room to leap into Logan's lap.

"I want to go out tonight," she announced, without any preamble. "Will you come too?"

This was his favourite chair in the whole wide world, Logan decided. And, sometimes, his least favourite. "Out?"

Marie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. I need to get out of here for the evening." She wriggled to sit comfortably on his thighs with her arms around his neck. "You need to get out of here too, we agreed that it's not the best place for you. So." She tilted her head and gave him an appealing smile. "You're coming out with me, right?"

Please don't let it be the club. The show. Whatever the fuck it was that Sarah's boy was planning. "Yes." He didn't sound very certain.

"Ooh, goodie." Marie leaned forward and kissed him firmly. "I love going places with you." She snuggled closer to him and nuzzled her nose against his, smiling. "You're so good to me."

Torture. This was going to be sheer torture. He decided that if he was going to torture himself to make her happy, he might as well get something out of the deal; he slid his hands up her back and drew her down for another kiss. "I try," he murmured, just before his lips met hers.

Mmm... you succeed admirably." She pulled back from the kiss and checked her watch. "Early dinner before we go? We'll need to get ready soon, I'm not in the mood to cook."

"Do y'want me t'cook, or d'you wanna go out t'eat?" She deserved a chance to act her age and if she wanted him along for the ride, he'd be there. Without complaining, he reminded himself sharply.

"Let's go out," she said, snuggling up to him. "Don't want you to have to cook either. 'Sides, might as well make a whole evening of it, right?" She nibbled at his neck briefly with a contented little sound.

He purred, his neck arching, encouraging her to continue. He should take her out more often, if this was the kind of response he got. Even if he didn't really want to go. "Right. It'll be...fun."

"Of course it will," she said brightly, giving him one last firm nip for good measure before she twisted around to end up lying across his lap, feet over one arm of the chair, looking up at him kittenishly. "You'll have to explain some things to me though." She gave him a serious little frown.

Explain things to her. That didn't make sense. "...where we goin'?"

"Hockey game, silly," Marie said with some annoyance. "Blues and Islanders and... oops!" Her eyes got very wide and then she giggled. "I think I maybe forgot to press send on my email earlier. I was in a hurry to go shopping and..." She wriggled about in his lap to pull a pair of tickets out of her back pocket. She handed them over promptly. "See? I thought you'd have fun, which god knows you almost never do, and, well, I'd get to be with you having fun, and that's fun for me."

"A hockey game." Logan's voice was filled with relief. He rested his hands on her belly, kneading the soft flesh through her clothes. "You want me t'go to a hockey game with you." A smile spread slowly over his lips.

Marie rolled her eyes. "You did /not/ think I was dragging you to the club with S and the others, Logan..." She laughed. "Yes, I want you to go to a hockey game with me. Silly. I sure wouldn't want you to go with someone else."

"I could go with Scott," Logan suggested with a snort. He was definitely not responding to her disbelieving statement about the club. He smoothed her shirt back over her belly and let his hands travel further up her body. "I'd rather go with you, though."

"Scott can find his own date," Marie said dismissively. "Even if the two of you do look cute together. And you did too think I was making you go out to that night club!"

One hand changed directions, scratching at the inseam of her pants. If he could've shuffled his feet, he would have, but instead he just looked apologetic. "Yeah. I did."

"And you..." Marie grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down for a kiss. "...you are the most adorable man ever. I love you so much."

Mmm. Logan brushed his nose against hers when she released his collar. "I love you, too. andi'mnotadorable."

"Yes you are!" Marie squeaked gleefully at him and kissed him again, giggling. "You are. Adorable. And cute. And MINE." She gave a little growl and bit playfully at his lips, wiggling happily.

If she wiggled too much more, they weren't going to have time for dinner before the game. "I'm yours," he conceded with a growl, "but I'm not cute."

"Cute," Marie reiterated firmly, with a wicked little grin. "You want to fight about it?"

"How bad d'you wanna see this hockey game?" he returned with a grin of his own.

Marie checked her watch again, looking pensive. "Take your pick. You can fight with me about whether or not you're cute, or you can admit you are and take me to bed. We'll just grab something to eat on the way out the door."

Logan stared at her for all of two seconds, then slid his arms under her shoulders and knees. He stood and quickly deposited her on the bed, crawling up after her. "Fine," he muttered into her ear. "I'm cute."

"I win." Marie hummed happily and pulled him to her. "You are too. And you make me happy. And I love you." She kissed him playfully.

"You always win," he growled, not sounding at all unhappy at this turn of events.

---

Logan scrubbed at the casserole dish and the washcloth came away speckled with cheese and pasta. Tuna noodle casserole was good, and easy to make, but he hated having to clean up, after. He watched Marie out of the corner of his eye. She was in the window seat, chewing on her braided hair and frowning direly at whatever work she had in her lap. He frowned at the casserole dish as though it were at fault for her mood.

Marie wasn't looking at her work. Her head hurt, pounded even, and she didn't want to go back to her room. She didn't want to go to work tomorrow. No. It wasn't that she didn't want to go to work. It was that she didn't want to go be who she put on every day to go to work. She didn't want to go back to her room and go to bed alone. She didn't want to go to training tomorrow and steal a few kisses and go her way. She couldn't even find a way to say it all, not even to herself.

But last night, having no disapproving eyes on her as she'd laughed with Logan and snuggled up against him and let him pull her close -- not even lack of disapproval -- the warm, amused smile of an older woman holding her silver-haired husband's hand that held knowledge and reminscence and affection... somehow that had triggered her discontentment and she hadn't been able to let it go. She stared at the calculus text in her lap, not seeing it, not seeing the hot, angry tears that fell and warped the paper.

Finally, as he rinsed the casserole dish, he spoke over his shoulder. "What's wrong?" The room smelled salty with her tears and he couldn't think of anything he'd done to upset her that badly, so he had to ask.

"I'm tired of this." She realized she was crying and wiped the tears from the page with her sleeve. "Just... maybe I'm being silly. But last night, it was really nice to just be us. To not have to think anything of it, to be around people who don't know how old either of us are or where either of us have been, to get taken based on how we act and not on what anyone thinks they know."

He wasn't sure what to say to make her feel better. He agreed, it had been a great time last night, not worrying about whether or not he could touch her, put his arm around her, laugh with her. "It was great, yeah." He started washing the flatware. "We should do it more often..."

The calculus text hit the floor halfway across the room with a slam. "Are you saying you'd rather not do it every day?" Marie's eyes flashed as she glared at him from where she was curled up in the shadows, looking for all the world like an angry, threatened little fox.

The flatware clattered back into the sink and he turned around, frowning at her, hands dripping soapy water. "What the fuck, Marie? How the hell d'you propose we do that? Seems like we're doin' it as much as we damn well can, spendin' half our time livin' on diff'rent floors an' all our time surrounded by people who could give a fuck what makes us happy."

"We make the best with what we have." Her green eyes were relentless, glittering with tears. "We're not leaving, we already said that, but... there's nothing that says we have to live apart if we don't want to."

He watched her for a moment, working through the logistics, trying to determine how much of this was a spontaneous suggestion she'd regret later and how much was something she actually wanted. "You wanna move in here, y'know you're always welcome to, but I'll be damned if I'm movin' into one of the dorms," he said with a sardonic tone.

Her eyes narrowed and she contemplated throwing the binder of course notes at him for his sarcasm. "I'm sure there's something in the staff handbook about cohabitation," she said instead and got to her feet. "I have a copy in my room. I'll be right back." She slammed the door as she left.

He snorted at the closed door and turned back to the sink to finish washing the flatware, plates, and glasses. A slow smile spread over his face. She meant it. She was serious.

Marie came back in a few minutes later with the book in her hands, flipping through. "Marriage, legal statement of common-law status, legal partnership for same-sex couples..." she read down the list. "...or as arranged with the director where there are extenuating circumstances." She kicked the door closed behind her.

"Well, y'said you didn't wanna get married right away," he said, frowning as he put the last plate into the dish drainer. "An' I'm not sure how we'd do it just yet anyhow, what with the whole runnin' from the government thing...an', you know, with me not bein' on anybody's records as /existin'/." He turned around to face her, shrugging. "Y'wanna go see Chuck about extenuatin' circumstances?"

Marie tossed the book onto the kitchen table and looked at him for a long moment, hands on her hips. "Is that a proposal?" she asked, echoing his words from the day before. "More importantly, is it what you /want/?"

Logan dried his hands, looking at her, impatience written all over his face. "What th--" He sighed, the impatience washing away, and walked toward her. "You, here. With me. For as much of your time as you'll let me have. If it's weekends, I can handle that. If you're willin' t'move in here, permanently, I'd like that, like it a lot. But I'm not gonna /complain/ if I can't have that."

Marie nodded, biting her lip. "I don't give a shit about what anyone else in this world says. You're good for me and last night, and the time away, what was best about them was you. I need you," she said simply. "I need to be myself and I need to be with you. I have all this time. And if you'll let me be here now, then I think I need to make plans to be here."

He reached out to tug at her braid. "We'll do that, then. We c'n go an' talk t'Chuck whenever you're ready, see what he says."

She stepped in close enough to lean on him. "I missed you so much." Her voice was almost inaudible. "I don't want to miss you anymore."

He wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her close. "You don't hafta miss me anymore. I'm here whenever y'want me an' I'm not goin' anywhere." He kissed her hair. "I'll even give y'half the closet."

She laughed at that, a little shakily. "See, now I /know/ you love me."

"Y'can even put all your girly stuff in the bathroom," he promised.

That got something between a sob and a giggle. "This from the man who wouldn't give me a ride," she teased.

"I stopped th'truck an' let you in," he muttered defensively.

"I know. And I don't know what you thought you were going to do with me," she said, winding her arms around him. "But I'm so glad you did. You know, some days I get so pissed off about things here that I just want to go back there?"

"Don't think I'm much welcome in that bar anymore, but I know what y'mean, I think." Logan nuzzled her hair, breathing her in.

"Just us in the middle of nowhere." She sighed happily. "Could have been nice. Guess we'll make our own little nowhere here, though."

"I'll make sure t'pick up a 'do not disturb' sign for th'door," he murmured, grinning.

Marie tilted her head back to kiss him. "Good. You're going to need one."