A series by November

Chapter 43: High

"You give me butterflies,
have me flyin’ so high in the sky
I can’t control the butterflies..."
--Alicia Keys

She fed Maggie dinner and she gave her her undivided attention for the half hour before Logan came. It was the way Maggie best coped with any sort of separation. They played Candyland and talked.

"Momma, where are you and Logan going?"

"I think we’re gonna get sushi."

"What’s sushi?"

"It’s raw fish, Japanese style."

"That’s disgusting!"

"It’s good."

"Do you eat the eyeballs?"

"No! Now that is disgusting. I’ll bring you back some California rolls. I think you’ll like them, actually."

"No thank you."

Marie laughed. "You’re a very polite little girl."

"I know."

"Modest too."

"So what are you gonna do with Jean and Scott tonight?"

"I dunno. They’re gonna have a baby." Maggie said matter-of-factly, and moved her little gingerbread man forward to the purple square.

"Huh?"

"They’re gonna have a baby."

"Mags, how did you know that?"

"I just do."

"Did you hear someone say that?"

"No."

"Did you read their mind?"

"No. I dunno how I know, I just do."

"So when is this baby gonna make its appearance?"

"I dunno."

.

In his room, Logan combed his wet hair. He had a feeling that Marie would opt to take the bike so he dressed accordingly. Jeans, Dr. Martens, long-sleeved gray tee, leather jacket.

Five minutes early, Logan knocked. "Come in."

He smiled and opened the door. Marie and Maggie were sitting at their dining room table.

"Hi Logan!"

"Hi Maggie!" He grinned at her.

"I drew you a picture."

"Really?"

"Yes. I’m gonna get it." Maggie scampered out of her chair and Logan sat there.

"Hey." Rogue was smiling enigmatically at him.

"Hey you." His smile sent shivers to run through her and back again.

He looked down at the riotous color of the Candyland board and tilted his head sideways a bit. It was familiar to him, though there was no reason it whould be. He followed the winding psychadelic trail all the way up to the gingerbread house. Suddenly he knew without a doubt that he had played it before. Flashes like this were becoming more and more frequent but they made little sense.

"Here Logan!" Maggie was suddenly standing in front of him. She had drawn another picture of Logan with his claws out. This time there were five on each hand. He took it and grinned.

"Wow. This looks like me."

Rogue glanced over and laughed. "That’s a good drawing, Magster."

"I like this. I’m gonna put it up on my locker." Logan folded the drawing in two and carefully tucked it into the lining of his jacket.

"Okay!"

"Sugar, why don’t you brush your teeth now so you don’t have to do it later."

"Okay." Maggie retreated toward the bathroom. Rogue stood up and started to put the game away. Logan’s eyes were all over her.

She wore a close-fitting leather jacket, black, over a purple lycra tee, with a short purple-flowered skirt over black tights. With the black leather ankle boots, her legs looked about ten miles long. Her hair was up in a high ponytail and her makeup was minimal.

"You look beautiful."

She put the game away and now she turned and smiled at him. She walked right over to him and sat on his lap. Then, she put a feather light hand on his neck and kissed him.

His response was immediate and strong. He moaned softly and kissed her back, hard.

She pulled away and they hovered, forehead pressed to forehead, pulses quick. She smiled softly and there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." she said. She didn’t bother getting up. Jean immediately took note of the situation without a word, and Scott didn’t have any readable expression. He was holding a few DVDs from Blockbuster.

"Hi," Rogue said, "come on in. Make yourselves at home. Maggie’s brushing her teeth and I gave her a bath already." Logan wrapped his arms around her with the most simple and profound joy he could ever remember having, and thought mine.

Maggie came out, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. "Dogpile!" she said, and climbed on top of Rogue, who was on top of Logan. Rogue picked her up and gave her a series of kisses on her face and then a raspberry. A glance at Scott and Jean told her that they were deep in telepathic gossip.

~You’ll get your dish in time, relax!~ Their telepathic link must have been strong, because Jean and Scott smiled at the same time.

"Magster, are you gonna be good for Scott and Jean?"

"Maybe," Maggie grinned impishly.

"You better, girlfriend," Scott said, picking Maggie up and lifting her over his head. He held her upside down and her shirt fell to cover hear head. She giggled with delight.

"Well, we’re gonna take off. Mags, I love you."

After, they walked out into the night. He had his arm around her waist.

He looked down at her outfit. "So I guess you don’t wanna take the bike."

"Yeah I do. I wore this specifically so I could."

"Oh." He didn’t want to think about her riding his bike in that skirt. Well, he did. A lot. About those nylon-clad thighs surrounding his. He tried not to grin too much. "Okay. The bike it is."

He got on and she slung her leg up over. They tightened their helmets and he turned around. "Ready?"

"Ready." He gunned it, and they were flying down the driveway. The wind and sound wiped away everything but the sight of road disappearing beneath the wheels, and the scent of a summer evening, asphalt, Logan and faint honeysuckle. She leaned into him, hands clasped over his navel, smiling drunkenly.

He turned out from Greymalkin onto the main road and as they surged forward into night and wind and sound she whispered "I love you," letting the wind take her confession until she was ready to give it to him.

The restaurant was outside of Westchester. As she stepped off of the bike she felt wobbly, drunk. She fumbled with the chin strap of her helmet and let her hands fall away when he saw her struggling and he quickly removed it. The pads of his fingers felt warm and soft.

Inside, they sat at a small table and leaned toward each other. "So did you ever get Boring Man off the phone?" Logan said, splitting his wooden chopsticks apart.

"No, he’s still on it. I just said uh-huh a few times and put it down. As far as I know he’s still talking." She laughed, took a sip of water, and laughed again. "Chuck’s gonna have a cow when he sees his 800-number bill."

He smiled at that, not just because he was smiling at everything in the last 48 hours, but because she seemed to have him in her head and he liked that.

"I have a friend who has a beach house in Hilton Head." He said.

"That so?"

"Yeah. I was wondering if I could steal you and Maggie away before school starts. Since you haven’t had a vacation."

She put her water glass down and and stared at him for a second. But before he could panic, she said "oh my god Logan, that would be great!"

"Yeah?" He thought that he was smiling like an idiot.

"Yeah. I’d love that. I need a vacation, before school. It’s gonna be a busy year."

"Me too."

"Why?"

"I’m teachin’ three classes, two of ‘em by myself."

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah." The waiter came and took their order.

"Xavier thinks we should co-teach self defense."

"Oh, does he? When did he say that?"

"Last week."

"That would be really fun. Too bad I’ve got a full dance card."

"You always have a full dance card," he said wistfully.

"Huh? What do you mean?" the southern accent was just slightly there.

He took her hand. "I got back and I was so jealous. You were wearing that gauzy little pink dress and dancing with everyone but me."

She smiled, then looked unhappy. She curled her fingers into his. "I hope you don’t still feel that way. When I said everything, I meant everything."

He smiled. It lit his eyes. "Exclusivity, you mean?"

"Just you, sugar, I - I hope that was what you meant." Now she looked apprehensive.

"I only want one woman and you’re her."

She lifted his hand to her lips and peered out at him over it. He could tell that she was smiling. She pressed her lips to his hand.

He caressed the side of her face, and with one fingertip traced a line down her neck. His eyes never left hers.

She shuddered visibly and the violence of it surprised him. Her nipples were taut against her tee shirt. It stunned her that he could do that with one fingertip.

She whimpered quietly, watching a waitress walk by. He laughed softly and it was like music to her.

Then she looked down and fiddled with her napkin. "I can’t believe you remembered what dress I was wearing."

"Oh, I’ll remember that little dress as long as I live," he raised his beer bottle and took a long sip, not once moving his eyes from her.

She realized that he had only begun to flirt with her, and didn‘t think she could live through it without a heart attack or spontaneous combustion.

"As I recall you looked pretty damn hot that night yourself."

He grinned. He was no stranger to the attentions of women, that was for sure. But hearing it from her was different.

"I love that dress. I want to paint you in that dress."

"Okay."

"Really?" He hadn’t expected this response, simply because he’d fantasized about it so much that it seemed to be out of the realm of possibility.

"Yeah. When?"

"Whenever."

He downed the rest of his beer and again took his hand in hers. He was ridiculously possesive and though he was ashamed of it, he allowed himself to take way too much joy in public displays of affection.

He traced the tendons under her skin with his finger. "So a little birdie told me you have a birthday coming up."

She smirked. "It wouldn’t have happened to be a little yellow birdie, would it?"

"Maybe."

"I see. What else did this birdie tell you?"

"Nothin’."

"Ah."

"So do you have any plans for this birthday, old lady?"

"Probably gonna go out and drink with everyone the night before, like last year."

"And the night of?"

"Nothin’ planned. Hopefully I won’t break a hip."

He laughed at that, loud and happy. She was suddenly so glad that he had some happiness.

The waiter came with their food and she unsheathed her chopsticks.

"I wanna take you out for your birthday."

"Okay."

"Someplace nice."

"Damn, you’ll spoil me." She looked up from the wasabi she was stirring into her soy sauce.

"Yep."

"Okay." She picked up a piece of yellowtail. "We need to come up with a birthday for you, Logan. So I can spoil you right back."

He didn’t know why that brought tears to his eyes. She noticed but looked down at her plate so he wouldn’t feel self-conscious.

"You don’t have to do that."

"Bullshit," she grinned. "So tell me about this Hilton Head place."

"It’s small and it‘s not actually on the beach. That‘s about all I know."

"God, that sounds nice. I haven’t been to the ocean in so long."

"Me neither. It’s been almost a year since I was actually on a beach."

"What beach were you on last?"

He thought for a second. "Central Ivory Coast."

"Exotic."

"I’ll take you there someday."

She met his eyes. "I don’t doubt it."

His eyes shone with joy.

"How’s your sashimi," she asked.

"Good. I think I’ve loved Japanese food for a long time. Before, even."

"Maybe you were in Japan?"

"Maybe. I don’t know the language though." He gestured to two waiters who were talking in the corner. "I have no idea what they’re saying."

"So, just French and English, huh?"

"Far as I know. I’ve ruled our Arabic, Farsi, Afrikaans, Swahili, Spanish, Hindi and Urdu."

She laughed. "Maybe you are Canadian."

The waiter came by and asked if everything was okay. They nodded.

"Oh, hey, you know what I was meaning to ask you?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember Jane, how you could tell she was pregnant?" Jane had left the school shortly after her abortion. She had been staying out all night, meeting with her twenty-seven year old boyfriend in the city, and she’d finally decided to leave the mansion. Scott had reported seeing her in the city loitering on a corner wearing stilettos and a mini skirt. No one knew what Xavier had said to try to get her to stay, but she was adamant about leaving.

"Yeah."

"Maggie said something interesting to me today."

"Oh?"

"Maggie said that Jean was going to have a baby."

"Really? I didn’t notice, but it’s not like I go around sniffing Jeannie."

Thank god.

"True. I asked her how she knew but she said she didn’t know."

"Maybe she’s a telepath."

"God forbid."

"Or maybe she has a sense of smell more powerful than mine."

"I suppose it’s possible."

"Or maybe she just overheard them talking. Or maybe she’s just makin’ it up."

"Yeah. Just because she’s a mutant doesn’t mean she’s accurate. Still though, sometimes she just knows things. It’s eerie."

"It’ll be interesting to see what powers she has."

"Definitely."

After, waiting for the check, Rogue picked up her chopsticks and tried to capture his nose. He ducked backward with widened eyes and then grinned. This escalated into a full-on chopstick war, with both of them trying to capture the other’s fingers, hair, or shirts. They laughed, not loudly, but giddily. The other patrons forgave them, because they were young and beautiful and clearly in love.

The waiter brought fortune cookies with the check. Logan quickly put a fifty on top of it and held the cookies out to her. "Thanks." She took one, and pried it open. She crunched on one half of the cookie as she unfurled the fortune.

She laughed. "This is the most stupid fortune I’ve ever had. This is, like, a ghetto-ass fortune!"

He held out his hand. She handed it to him. It said "You like Chinese food. :)"

He laughed. "That is pretty lame."

"What does yours say?"

He held his slip of paper out to her. It read "Joy will be yours."

Later, when they walked down the street, peering in shop windows, learning the thrilling new angles involved in holding hands and touching while walking, he kissed her.

"Damn, girl, how much wasabi did you use?"

She grinned. "I like it spicy."

He kissed her again, and his lips tingled.

When they got back to the mansion it was still early. Darkness was just beginning to fall.

"Let’s go for a walk," she said holding her hand out to his. He thought his heart would break from so much joy.

They walked into the woods. She could barely see the path but it was smooth for Charles’ wheelchair so it didn’t matter. He held her hand in his.

She lead him to the swing. Sat down on it, next to him.

"Logan?"

"Yeah babe?"

"You’re makin’ me high." He could see her perfectly, but she could only see his silhouette.

She could hear him sigh. She felt his hand, warm on the side of her face. She turned into it and kissed it. His hand moved back, touching her hair, tugging the rubber band that held it up. Her hair spilled out over her tee shirt.

"I’m high too," he whispered. And then they were kissing. She felt dizzy, like a disoriented diver under water. Her only point of reference was Logan, his lips and face and hands and breath, and she no longer knew which way was up and which was down. She wished she was a telepath so she could tell him this.

She felt his hand on her waist, fingers pressing. His tongue. She nipped his lip and he groaned. It caused a flare of excitement from her groin.

"Logan."

"Yeah, darlin’?"

"I want you but can we just wait a coupla days to do everything, ok? I hope that’s ok."

"Sure."

"It’s not like I’m trying to make you wait or any bullshit like that but this is too much for me to take in all at once."

"It’s okay," he touched her face. "I don’t wanna push you into anything you’re not ready for."

She laughed. "No sweetie, you’ve got it wrong. I’m soo ready. I’m so wet right now that I can’t stand it."

He hissed, chest rising and hitching like a stormy sea.

"But I refuse to rush this. Oh, I’m gonna make love to you so slow and sweet and good that you’re gonna forget your name. But not tonight. A night when I can get a sitter. And it‘s gonna be so good."

Logan whimpered.