~*~

It was frustration, plain and simple. Anger and frustration was more like it. One lead after another, all culminating in the same manner, frustration.

"Fuck," Logan cursed loudly, releasing a savage growl as he threw the scrape of metal in his hand firmly against the nearest wall. His fists clenched with frustration, the feel of sharp metal just beneath the surface of his skin. As the clanging of the scrape he'd thrown died down the audible grinding of metal on metal shattered the silence of the room, as adamantium claws were set free.

Wolverine lashed out in a rage, swiping his fists at abandoned machinery and overturned furniture. He snarled and growled like the animal inside of him as he made quick work of what little remained of the military bunker he occupied until there was only one thing left, frustration.

Surveying the damage with no satisfaction what so ever, Logan retracted his claws then sank to his knees. Why does everything have to be so fucking difficult? Why can't something go my way just once?

It had been nearly a year since Logan left Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters in search of his past. A year spent rummaging through the remains of a military base long since abandoned by everyone except the rats. A year since he'd enjoyed any contact with other people, choosing instead to remain isolated and to concentrate solely on his search. Of course there were the occasional bar fights for money but they were few and far between and he was only there long enough to make the cash he needed then it was back to isolation. At least those had been his intentions and, for the first couple of weeks, as he journeyed toward Alkali Lake in the northern Canadian Rockies, he'd been successful. More often than not during those first weeks he'd forced aside his feelings and focused on his destination but the more time passed the harder it became, thus adding another source of frustration.

For the first time in the fifteen or so years that he could remember, Logan could not stop thinking about a certain young woman. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't banish the thoughts of her. Every time he experienced a set back she was there, in his mind, smiling at him adoringly and somehow making it better. Every night when he laid down, frustrated and alone, she was there in his dreams to hold him. For months Logan fought off the feelings and images until all the fight was gone and then he gave in only to discover more frustration. Frustration because the object of his affections wasn't there with him.

Sitting on the floor of the devastated room he wondered for the hundredth time how she had managed to take possession of his heart without his knowledge or consent. When had she wrapped him around her little finger? Like you don't know. Logan snorted aloud at his errant thought. Yeah, he knew very well when it had happened, it was the first moment he saw her. The more pressing question now was when had his feelings changed?

Closing his eyes he recalled a definite turning point. As he regained consciousness after the battle with Magneto atop the Statue of Liberty, Jean had been at his side, tending his wounds. It was one simple statement that started him thinking. *I think she's a bit taken with you.* He had come back quickly with some bullshit comment that he couldn't quite remember but it hadn't fooled Jean, that was obvious enough by the look in her eyes. She'd started to say something else but he'd cut her off deftly asking about the professor and she'd smiled. He knew she knew everything and she knew that he knew and so it was dropped.

Still there was sometime before that when the change started and for the life of him he wasn't certain when. Maybe it was when she told him in her sweet southern accent "Ah don' want ya t' go" and he'd taken off his tag and wrapped her fingers gently around it. Maybe it had been when he removed his glove and touched her face willing her to take his healing power and bring herself back from the brink of death. Maybe it was at that moment when he'd gathered her limp body in his arms praying that she wasn't dead because of Magneto's contraption. Maybe it was before that when her screams for help prompted him to savagely extend his claws through his own body to release the bonds that held him firmly then allowed Storm to lift him on a tornado-force wind to her position high above. Maybe it was at the moment on the train when he realized that it was her that Magneto wanted or just moments before when he'd wrapped his arm around her shoulder and promised to protect her. Maybe it was even farther back then that, wh

Now nearly a year later it was almost all he could think about, his beautiful little Marie. Since when did she become your property, bub? Logan considered his silent question searching for an answer. He had no better luck in that search than he was having looking for his past. Once again frustration reared its ugly head and Logan growled deep in his chest.

Rising from the floor and swiping his hands down his body to remove the dust, he slowly sifted though what was left in the room. Upon finding nothing of importance he headed back outside, slamming the metal door loudly behind him with a grunt of satisfaction. Outside it had started to snow again, hell it was always snowing or so it seemed. Normally the cold didn't bother Logan but for some reason tonight was different and the bitter temperature made his whole body ache. It didn't take much of that to come to a decision. There was a small motel a short distance away in which he'd stayed several times, when he wanted a real bed, needed a shower or could no longer stand the smell of his own body on his clothes. At the moment it was a little of all three.

Straddling his only companion, Scott's liberated motorcycle, Logan kicked it to life and headed for town. Within half an hour he was unlocking the door to his motel room. Tossing his small bag on the floor between the two beds and kicking the door shut behind him, Logan headed for the bathroom peeling off layers of clothing as he went. Leather jacket, jeans jacket, flannel shirt, T-shirt, tank top, by the time he entered the small bathroom his chest was bare. After kicking off his boots he released the large belt buckle at his waist and removed his jeans and underwear in one fell swoop.

Logan stepped into the shower and turned the water on as hot as it would go. To most it would have been scalding but to Logan it was just right. He turned his back to the spray letting the heat penetrate the tightness of his shoulders and back. Rolling his neck under the cascading water he closed his eyes against the cracks and pops. By the time he felt his body start to relax the water was getting cool. Satisfied that he was somewhat clean without using soap, Logan turned off the water then grabbed a towel and dried off before hanging up the towel and moving back into the main room. Being naked was nothing new to him after all he'd spent nearly five years running naked through the forest before he realized he was a man.

After gathering his scattered clothing as well as grabbing what was in his bag, Logan went back to the bathroom. He filled the tub with lukewarm water then, kneeling on the floor he set himself to the task of doing laundry. Despite the number of garments he actually had, it took him nearly an hour to wash them thoroughly, due mainly to the fact that they were beyond ripe. As he finished with each item in turn he'd hang it to dry until finally his ragged backup pair of jeans were tossed over the clothesline he'd strung.

Making his way from the bathroom, more relaxed now thanks to the heat of the water, Logan yawned, his sleep-deprived body demanding a reprieve. With a grunt he peeled back the blankets on one of the beds and slipped underneath pulling them back up to his waist. Logan closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come, he didn't have to wait long.

~ Logan walked through the mansion that housed Xavier's school, his eyes darting into each room as he went. As he turned the corner his nostrils flared and he inhaled deeply knowing she was close. He followed her scent, quickening his pace to catch up to her.

She was so close now, he knew she was just outside. Moving through the door swiftly he saw her, standing a short distance away looking at him, her deep brown eyes drilling into his. Logan could only stare at the woman before him, he knew her but she was different. She still had the same thick auburn hair with the shocking streaks of white. Her eyes were the same doe-like brown though they seemed older and decades more mature. Her face had thinned out slightly except for her lips, which were even fuller than before. The thing that had changed the most was her shape, once girlish and undefined was now full of dangerous curves. Standing as she was in the moonlight, the bluish-white rays shining on her pale skin, she was more beautiful than ever.

"Hey," Logan called to her unable to think of something more charming as he stared at the flesh left bare around the slip dress she was wearing.

"Hey, yerself," Rogue returned with a smile in her usual southern drawl.

"I told you I'd be back," he was finally able to manage after tearing his gaze from her cleavage.

"Ah've been waitin', Logan," she assured him as she started forward.

Logan actually sighed, something he could never remember doing before, then moved toward her. "I've missed you, Marie."

Rogue smiled sweetly, closing the remaining distance between them. "Ah've missed ya too."

"I thought of you every day," Logan informed her, swallowing at the pathetic sound of his own voice.

"Ah thought of ya always," Rogue replied, her tone husky and warm. "Ah got a surprise fer ya."

"Yeah?" Logan asked his left eyebrow quirking.

Rogue's smile grew to include her eyes. "Yeah," she repeated, bringing her hand up slowly to rest against his cheek. "Ah can control it, Logan."

It took him a second to realize what she was talking about and a second longer to register the feel of her hand against his face, skin to skin. In a split second shock turned to something else as he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, his hands smoothing down her bare arms.

Rogue shivered at the touch. She'd been able to control her mutation for a while now but no one had ever touched her like that. She shifted against his firm body and felt him respond in a way she'd never thought possible. Rogue pulled back slightly and looked up into eyes darkened with passion and wanting. She opened her mouth to question him but the feel of his lips on hers halted the action.

Logan pulled her tighter as he deepened the kiss, working to control his tightening body but after years of denial it was a lost cause. Without breaking the passionate kiss he lifted her off her feet and carried her back inside. He entered his old bedroom and gently lowered her to the mattress before lying down at her side, their lips still locked, their hands exploring.

"Logan," Rogue moaned as his hand skimmed her breast.

Before she knew it her dress and bra were tossed aside and Logan was eagerly worshipping her chest with hands and mouth. She arched her back in pleasure as the roughness of his tongue flicked across her painfully erect nipple. Wanting to return a degree of pleasure, Rogue pushed up into Logan prompting him to roll over.

Logan was about to protest the loss when Rogue straddled his stomach and started working against the buttons of his shirt. An aroused growl issued from his throat as her ass rested lightly against his throbbing cock through his jeans and her panties.

Rogue finally managed to divest Logan of his multiple shirts and lowered her lips to engulf a tight nipple. She had barely made contact when Logan pushed her back and sat up forcing her into his lap.

"I need you, Marie," he whispered hoarsely.

"Ah'm yers, Logan," she returned breathlessly, reaching for his belt buckle. Her hands were trembling so much in anticipation that they were barely functioning.

Quickly Logan helped her removed the last of his clothing and waited as patiently as possible while she explored before sliding off the final barrier between them. Laying her back down on the mattress, Logan ran a hand up the inside of her leg. He could easily smell her arousal but he wanted to make sure. "Spread your legs," he ordered lightly in her ear as his hand approached her center.

Rogue obeyed the command just as Logan's hand reached the junction of her legs. She gasped and shuddered at the contact, her heart pounding, her breathing ragged.

"Darlin', there's so much I want to do to you but right now I have to be inside you," Logan begged.

"Ah'm yers," Rogue repeated a second time as he positioned himself over her.

Logan leaned down to kiss her as he brought his throbbing flesh close to hers. At the moment of first contact, a knock at the door startled them both. ~

Logan woke with a start to the insistent pounding on the door. It took him a moment to remember where he was. Images from the dream haunted him and he was painfully aware of the arousal they had caused. Once again frustration and anger mixed as he sprung from the bed, stalked across the room and ripped opened the door.

"Sorry t' wake ya, son," the old man from the motel office the night before started before he got a look at the man inside, the naked, hairy, upset and obviously aroused man inside.

"What!" Logan snarled while every muscle in his body tensed with anger and frustration.

The old man forced his gaze to the young man's face. "Like I said, sorry t' wake ya but I thought ya might want some breakfast while it's still warm."

Logan took a sniff of the plate the man was holding then reached out and grabbed it from him with a growl. Without a word he turned around and slammed the door behind him.

The motel clerk's eyes widened for a moment at the odd exchange then he returned to the office.

Dropping the plate of food onto the dresser as he passed, Logan moved to the foot of the bed and carefully sat down. He was going to have to do something soon because those dreams were getting out of hand and frankly he was getting tired of his hand. It wouldn't be so bad if the dreams ever made it to the grand finale but every time he got to the point of penetration, something would wake him. Just another fucking curse.

Moving from the bed to the bathroom, Logan took care of his problem before taking another long, hot shower. After drying off he checked his clothes to find them still wet then turned his attention to the now cold food. Grabbing the plate he moved to the table and chair in the corner of the room and started to eat.

Logan tried to concentrate on the room around him to keep from replaying the dream as he downed the bacon and eggs. As his eyes skimmed the contents over and over, one thing in particular kept catching his attention. He'd find himself staring at the object and he'd quickly look away only to find his gaze there again moments later.

Swallowing the last of his breakfast, Logan moved back to the rumpled bed and focused again on the item. He stared at it for a moment then looked away. A minute later he picked it up but quickly slammed it back down. Stop torturing yourself, Logan. Pick up the phone and make the fucking call or don't.

~*~

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