This is the last chapter of this story folks, but I have many other fics up my sleeve so you certainly haven't heard the last of me :o) I just want to say thanks to all the people who've read this fic, especially those who've left reviews, you've put a big smile on my face. Hee!

So her hand was gripped in his hand. No, make that her hand was gripped in his hand and she was being tugged along. And it was a nice hand. Strong. And the tugging was fast.

Dear god, this had to be a dream. Seriously, there was no other explanation. She'd passed out, she was hallucinating...and now his thumb was rubbing slow circles with the tugging...

Fuck, if this was a dream then let it be a coma.

Had anyone noticed the way they'd left quite so quickly? Probably. Did she care? Hell no. Out the ballroom door. Past the people. A quick smirk at Jean's look of shock. Into the entrance hall. Up the stairs. Stopping at the top of the stairs, why was he stopping, what was with the stopping? Stopping was bad!

Oh, the look. He was giving her the look. That dark eyed predator, I'm-going-to-eat-you-alive look. Christ. They ought to bottle that and use it as an aphrodisiac.

"M'rie." That was growled. Then she was being pushed against the wall with a whole lotta Wolverine pressed up against her. Ok. Changed her mind. Stopping was good. Very good. Although... talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place... she sniggered, but... ok now was not the time to laugh. Now was the time to- oh god he was going to kiss her.

Her heart stopped. Which was quite impressive seeing as her pulse was still thudding through her ears. He was so close.

His pressed his forehead against hers. She felt his shoulders rise and fall as he inhaled slowly... then exhaled. Then the entire of her being suddenly focused on her lips His mouth came down on hers, hot and dark and hands tangling in her hair, stubble scratching at her chin as his tongue...did...stuff...oh fuck coherent description this was wow!

Like seriously WOW.

Like knees weak, pulse racing, stomach flipping wow.

And then some.

When he pulled away the dark-eyed hungry look was still there. And there was something she had to remember. Something she was supposed to do to remain conscious. Oh yeah, that was it. Breathe. Man, he tasted good.

His lips nibbled round to her ear, and she felt his heat of his breath before he whispered, "the things I wanna do to you darlin'..."


This time she did the tugging. A giddy mind-spin of jittery feelings leaping about in her stomach all the way to his room, which was two whole freaking steps closer than hers. And that made a big difference.

He backed her up against the door, his hands everywhere, as hers fumbled beside her for the handle. Fuck, where was it? It was so hard to concentrate when he was... he was...mmmmm — Eeeap! It gave and she all but fell in backwards.

Shit. But... but...A brief stumble, and...wooohoo! She was still upright. She looked up at him from under her lashes with a smirk, as if daring him to laugh at her. But there was no laughing to be done. He was stood there, watching her, hands resting on either side of the door frame, shirt seriously ruffled, hair all mussed up from where she'd raked her nails through it, eyebrow cocked... but still with the look.


She reached out, grabbed the lapels of his tux and hauled him in.

Door kicked shut. Heat raging. Fistfuls of hair. Mouth on...fuck...everything. Hands sliding under...oh Jesus she was actually going to die.

"Oompf Logan," she managed - just. "I don't...sleep with people...on the"

"Who said..." more kissing, "...anything about sleepin'?"

Good point. Besides, she'd already ripped off his tux and it would be rude to ask him to put it back on again. And shirt buttons, they were a right pain to do up once they'd been undone... Damn, but he had a fine chest, and strong arms, and fingers that were wondering down to- HOLY FUCK! That felt good. To hell with being respectable! "Let me help you with that," she said into his shoulder, hurriedly pulling off the rest of her dress.

And then he was backing her up, feral eyes fixed upon her, dark with lust. One step, two, till her knees hit the bed and suddenly she was no longer quite so vertical. Mmmm and neither was he.

"Mmphf, you know we should really probably still be downstairs," she said, kicking off her shoes.

"Yeah?" He groaned as she arched up against him. Breathing hard. "But then we'd probably get a right tellin' off for indecent exposure."

She laughed into his mouth, "that's not what I meant."

"Oh really? 'Cause the way you were dancin' darlin'..."

She shut him up with another kiss, body trying to wrap itself all around him at once. Fingers fumbling with buttons and sleeves and GODDAMN who the HELL invented cufflinks?! She would hunt them down, by god she would, and she'd... oh thank-frikin-god. He ripped them off and his shirt joined her dress in a crumpled heap on the floor. That was better.

Then it was all a tangle of legs, of mouths tasting, bodies frantically rubbing against each other, hands exploring...until...until... was he starting to pull back?

"Wait darlin'."

Her heart sank.

"Logan?" she frowned. She hadn't meant it about going downstairs thing. Had she done something wrong? Were there like, instructions she should have read? A 'how to operate the Wolverine' manual? Argh, maybe she hadn't shaved her legs-

"We need some sort of..." he fumbled around in his nightstand, cracking his head on the lamp in the dark. "Fuck."

"What?!" Panicpanicpanic.

"Y'know, protection."

Oh. Sigh of almost relief. "Protection?"

"Well I've jus' come back home haven't I. Haven't stocked up yet."

Hadn't stocked up? Was he implying what she thought he was implying? She didn't like the implications of that. Luckily she was one of the X-men. And X-men always had a backup plan. "Logan?"



"Dammit!" He growled and threw something at the wall.

"I have some in my room."

"You...?" That stopped him. For a moment, his face lit up, then it darkened with a frown. "What are you doin' with those kid?"


No, seriously. What?!

"First off, Logan, you do not get to call me kid when my clothes are over there in a pile with yours and your hand is down my panties! Second, I'm old enough to do what the hell I want with them. I can goddamn blow them up and make them into balloon animals if I so choose. And third? I get to-"

He dipped his head and kissed again, completely disturbing her train of thought, mid-rant. The bastard.

"Third, I..." The hand down her panties began to trace wonderful patterns. That really was not fair.

"Third?" he prompted, tongue doing things it really shouldn't. Things it should never goddamn stop. Ever. EVER. Fuck, he was good at this.

"I'll think of the third in the morning," she mumbled into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him as he scooped her up.

Two strides and he was swinging open the door. Another, and he was out in the corridor. One more and... damn. They were directly in the path of an oncoming, still bopping, Hank.

"Oops," Logan whispered into her ear, and then nibbled it for good measure.

The doctor hadn't noticed them yet, he was humming away, lost in his own little chipper world, there might still be time to sneak away... But Logan was struggling to open her door whilst holding her up, and both of Rogue's hands were occupied with Logan's fine chest...or possibly lower...well a girl had to have her priorities. She giggled as Hank got closer...

"You're my reality, yet I'm lost in a-a-a-a dream," Hank sang happily to himself as he approached. "You're the first mmmhmm, the laaast... myyy every-" He stopped mid-syllable. Blinked. "Logan? Rogue?" he said, not quite able to hide the look of total shock. "Now this is odd."

"Evenin' doc," said Logan, hoisting her to sit more comfortably in his arms.

Ok, so this was embarrassing. Rogue blushed slightly, trying to stem the urge of hysterics that welled up with in her. Thank god they hadn't got as far as the taking off underwear stage. She'd never explain that.

"Why are you carrying her? Good god, is she alright? What happened? Does she need a doctor?"

"She's fine," Logan growled. Mmmm, it made his chest rumble against her and everything.

"Really? Well where are her clothes? Because she doesn't look-"

"Honestly Hank, I'm good." Rogue gave him her best reassuring smile. But he wasn't looking convinced. Maybe a small white lie was called for. "I just fainted, that's all."

"You...? Oh!" he said, with what he thought was sudden understanding. Poor Hank. "I see. Too much drink I expect, hmm?!" He waggled his brows in amusement. "Well, in that case I'm sure it was a relief to you that the Wolverine was near at hand to help."

She smiled at that. "Yep." Then couldn't resist adding, "He gave me mouth to mouth."

"He gave you...?" Hank scratched his head, puzzled. "You know, Logan, that's not really necessary. If someone faints then they-"

"Just wanted to be sure." Logan gave her a wicked smirk. One that did dizzying things to her insides. "And now I'm gonna give her hip to hip as well. See ya doc." And with that, he stepped inside her room and shut the door firmly behind them.

Rouge grinned at him, suddenly almost shy again as Hank's incoherent mutterings faded away down the corridor, leaving them once again in quietness.

"So," Logan said after he'd let her slide down the length of his body to the floor, then kissed her for good measure.

"So," she repeated back at him, fingers lightly travelling over the iron hard muscles of his arms, back, stomach, thighs, shoulders...Jesus the man was a GOD.

"You ready for this?"

Was that a trick question? In, what she later referred to as a perfectly reasonable response, she tackled him, pushing him back, knocking him off his feet and landing on top of him on the bed.

He flipped her over so that she was suddenly pinned beneath him and growled, "I'll take that as a yes then."

Hell yeah. She'd agree with that!

And she continued to agree as her underwear joined the remainder of his clothes on her floor.

By the time the second fumble in the nightstand was navigated and her legs were gripped around his waist, she was agreeing with him profusely.

And by the time that he was growling into her hair and her fingers clenched up fistfuls of the sheets, she could do nothing but agree.

Which she continued to do.

Many times throughout the night.

And most of the next morning...(including, much to Scott's lament later in the day, at least twice rather loudly in the shower).

And throughout the subsequent weeks.

-Not to mention the months.


...You get the picture.

-Author grins and exits story-

(...And Logan and Rogue continue regardless...)