The night air smells like stale creek water and cigar smoke. Nice romantic atmosphere, except not really. A good night for angst though. She's been having a lot of those lately, ever since she and Nathan and Scott got back from Akkaba. It's gotten worse since coming back from Cape Citadel, riding in the X-Wing in terse silence with the man she supposedly loves. She usually spends hours out here, resting on the banks of the creek until the lights in the mansion and the boathouse go out and she can in and curl up into a little ball on top of the comforter, trying not to touch the man in bed beside her because he's almost a stranger. She hasn't said much to anyone besides Hank in days, and no one seems overly worried about it, especially not Scott.

Then she finds the source of her listlessness, part of it anyway, sitting in her spot watching her fireflies dance in the woods across the creek, and she's angry because she's out here to get away, but they don't let her.

"Jeannie," he calls out in greeting, never taking his eyes off the woods, and she mentally curses herself for not counting on his heightened sense of smell.

"Logan," she replies as she walks down the incline and stops right behind him, bare feet placed exactly a foot apart in the cool grass, arms crossed under her breasts. "What are you doing out here?"

"Communin' with nature." He's grinning; she can hear it in his voice, and it makes her angrier because that's all he's done since Cape Citadel, leer at her and grin at Scott.

"God." The word comes out in a huff of air. "Can you just stop? For once?"

"Stop what?" He's teasing her, taunting her, trying to draw her out. Trying to make her angry, but she's already got that emotion down.

"Stop grinning. Stop....digging your fingers into open wounds."

"I thought your life was perfect, Jeannie." Smirking now.

"I never said that."

"No, you didn't."

"Go back inside, Logan. Just leave me alone."

"Been doin' that for a week."

"So keep doing it."

"Can't." He's not smirking anymore, and his voice is soft, closer to the old Logan, the one she has fond memories of.

"If you would just leave me alone then maybe..." She trails off, a brief flash of light catching on the surface of the water, and she's suddenly fearful that it was a flash of red signaling the presence of her husband. Then the light flashes again and it's merely two fireflies chasing each other down the line of the creek.

"Maybe what, Jeannie?" He's turned slightly, leather uniform creaking through the stillness. He moves slightly, motioning for her to join him on the small outcropping of rock. She shakes her head, and he returns his gaze to the woods. "Things'll get better? Cyke'll open up, share his feelings?"

"Maybe things'll go back to the way they were." The answer is whispered and forced. "Maybe I won't feel guilty anymore. Maybe I won't have to relive that moment in Savant's head anymore. Maybe I'll be able to just get over it."

"You really want to get over it? Shouldn't be too hard. Hubbie's back. Your bed's not lonely anymore." He sniffs the air slightly. "Then again." The grin's back, and she feels the anger welling up. Desperately wanting to lash out, knowing she could utterly wipe his mind clean, she turns her back on him.

"Jeannie." He's suddenly standing, facing her. She sees her hunched form in his mind and feels his concern for her coloring his mind. "Jean, wait."

"No. I'm sick of standing around waiting. I want you to leave me alone. It was just a kiss, Logan. That's all. Impending death. The situation got out of control fast. Nothing else. Do you understand?"

"Who are ya tryin' convince, Jeannie? Me or yourself?"

"Damn you, Logan!" She whirls around, eyes flashing as she barely reigns in a telekinetic blast. "What do you want me to say? I'm a married woman." An image flashes in front of her mind -- her, standing in the grass, hands on her jean-clad hips, hair lashing in the air behind her, eyes reflecting green fire in the moonlight.

"That's the Jean I remember," Logan states, smiling for once, with no malice in his mind or eyes. Emotions swirl out from his mind, catching her offguard. Protectiveness, pride, joy, and...love? She blinks.

"Logan?"

"I'm sick of watchin' you follow Cyke around like a lost pup, Jeannie. I'm sick of watchin' you flinch every time he looks at you like he doesn't see you. I'm sick of watchin' you turn into something he can own." He walks up to her. "I watched you destroy the Neo with barely a thought. Then I watch you cower in fear because you don't recognize your husband." He reaches up, catching a lock of her hair in his hand. "I don't like that." She opens her mouth to respond but closes it, swallowing heavily. He cups her chin, catching her eyes. She nuzzles against his rough skin, closing her eyes.

"I can't feel him in my head anymore, Logan," she whispers. "That scares me. I can't feel him, and worse, I can't read him. Charles can't either. We don't know what he's thinking, what's going on in there." She shudders, a sudden chill racing up her spine. "I'm scared."

"I know, Jeannie. I know ya are, but I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. I made you a promise on your wedding day. I'm honor bound to protect you, help you. All you need do is ask."

"I know, Logan, but I need to do this on my own. For now." He nods, his hands moving to her shoulders. He pulls her to him, kissing her forehead lightly. Pulling her into a hug, he strokes her hair.

"I'm sorry for how I've been actin' this past week," he mutters. "I had no right to come between you and yours. I just didn't know any other way to get through to you."

"I understand," she replies, pressing her face into the warmth of his neck. "I don't like what you did, but I understand."

"What happened in Savant's mind, we can forget it happened. We'll ignore it, go on like we have been, like it didn't happen." He swallows, pulling away from her and taking a step back. "If that's what you want."

"That's probably for the best," she replies, taking her own step back. She glances up, her eyes finding his. Her mind is seized by a thought, and she's unsure of whether it's hers or his. "What happened with Savant never was," she whispers, and he nods in return. "Okay," she breathes, and suddenly she moves forward, pressing herself back into his arms, her lips against his, her hands clutching at his hair. His hands find ways to pull her closer, one intertwined in her hair, the other at the small of her back. Then, with the same speed that it began, the kiss was over. She separates herself from him, and smiles tightly.

"Good night, Logan," she whispers, stepping back.

"See you tomorrow, Jeannie."

"Yeah." With that, she turns, making her way to the cold darkness of the boathouse, trying to ignore his eyes boring into her back.

He watches her walk away, half-admiring her body as she cuts through the night, half-seething with jealousy as she returns to her husband. The he turns back to his seat by the creek and continues watching the night woods.