X-Men

Tonight

by Libby Edwards

 
"Toss me a cigarette, mon ami."

Logan took his eyes off the road for a second, rummaging in the pocket of Remy's duster that lay in a heap on the front seat. His fingers closed around Remy's crumpled pack of Silk Cuts, and he withdrew it quickly and flipped it into the backseat without a glance. Remy caught the pack deftly, shaking out one of the thin cigarettes and popping it into the corner of his mouth. He leaned back in the seat, straightening out his leg a bit as he fished for the book of matches in the front pocket of his jeans, then he flicked open the cardboard book and ripped out a single paper match, striking it and holding it to the end of his cigarette with a studied air of nonchalance.

Jean pulled down the sun visor in front of her and glared at Remy in the mirror. "I really don't see how you can be so calm," she snapped.

Remy smiled at her from around his cigarette, then took a deep drag from it as he glanced casually out the side windows of the Mercedes. There was really nothing to see...only endless darkness, and the ice that had been steadily accumulating on the windows ever since they left Sault St. Marie. Another gust of winter wind shook the car, Logan's hands tightening on the wheel as he fought to keep it on the narrow road, and Jean clutched the arm rests nervously. Remy however, only shrugged, removing his cigarette between two slender fingers as he expelled a breath of smoke. "My mother always told me dat dere's no sense worryin' 'bout de t'ings you can't control," he said, fixing his implacable eyes on Jean in her mirror.

"Yeah, well, you know what your mother told me?" Logan growled through gritted teeth.

"Logan..." Jean said warningly.

Remy grinned, utterly unperturbed, and turned his head again to peer out the window at the mounting snowstorm. Jean did the same, looking out her window on the opposite side and wishing for the millionth time that they had waited at Mrs. Collins' house as she had suggested. Mrs. Collins (and her young son Bobby, a mutant with newly manifested powers that Xavier had asked the three of them to go meet with an invitation to the School) had looked with a wary eye at the burgeoning storm clouds on the horizon as Remy, Logan, and Jean had stood on her wide front porch, saying their goodbyes. Are you sure you don't want to stay the night here? she had asked, the freshening wind beginning to whip her hair as she clutched her shawl closer about her shoulders. That's a powerful storm coming, if I don't miss my mark...you all are welcome here. We have plenty of room... Of course, Logan wouldn't hear of it...he was determined to get back on the road as soon as possible, especially since the trip there had already taken them two whole days. Remy had shrugged, smiling that cool, unreadable smile of his, and Jean had thanked Mrs. Collins politely and declined her offer. After all, Logan had driven them there without incident...there was no reason not to trust his judgment now.

Of course, that had been six hours and eight inches of snowfall ago. Now the radio's ghostly crackle only spoke of the increasing storm...shaping up to be the worst one in ten years! one radio weatherman announced with a sort of breathless excitement...and Jean hugged her arms tightly about herself, watching the white-blanketed, horribly narrow strip of roadway that could still be seen beyond the ice covered windshield of Charles' Mercedes. Great humped banks of snow had already mounded themselves on either side of that passage...the thickening flurries rattled against the windows, and when she looked through that steadily closing circle of clear glass on the windshield, the snow rushing at them reminded her a little of the scene in Star Wars, where the Millennium Falcon had suddenly made the jump to lightspeed. Stars flying by at the speed of light and a blizzard rushing at you at approximately thirty miles per hour looked almost the same.

The Mercedes suddenly hit a thick patch on the road, and the tires reacted mushily. Jean grabbed for the armrests again, her mouth a tight, tense line as Logan swore under his breath and fought to bring the car back under control. The rear wheels caught in something and spun vainly for a brief, nerve-wracking moment...then Logan snatched the wheel hard to the left and the car wobbled free, picking up speed again. Jean heaved a silent sigh of relief, looking at Logan's face, then casting a glance at Remy in her mirror. This time he at least looked mildly concerned...he met her eyes with his eerie ones and grinned at her a little nervously. It's going to be okay...Logan's a good driver, she reassured herself...then Logan shattered that fragile little confidence all in one sentence.

"I think we're gettin' ready to have some trouble here."

"What? Why?" Jean asked instantly, hating the quick edge of panic in her voice. She glanced at Logan, tight-lipped as he stared at the disappearing road ahead, and heard Remy stir uneasily in the back seat.

"The wipers are gettin' coated with ice," Logan said. "It's gettin' harder to see out the windshield."

"Do we need to pull over?" Remy asked. He sat forward now, leaning on his arms over the back of the seat between Jean and Logan.

"We may have to...but I want to avoid that if I can," Logan replied. "The way that snow is looking, I think if we stop, we might not get started again." He glanced at Jean, then looked back at the road as he pressed the button for the driver's side window and began to roll it down.

"What are you doing?" Jean asked anxiously.

Logan ignored her, and after a moment it became apparent what he was doing. The window all the way down, Logan leaned forward and reached out the window to the windshield, catching the closest wiper in his hand and stopping it in its monotonous swipe. He smacked it against the windshield once, hard, and Jean saw a small shower of ice fragments break off and disappear in the onrushing wind. That same wind was busy blowing snow and icy cold into the car through Logan's window...Jean wrapped her arms around herself without a thought, half-listening to Remy's muttered French curses in the backseat as the snow continued to blow inside.

Logan studied the wiper's progress with a set face, then rolled up the window without a word. Jean watched the wiper critically...it seemed to work well for a moment, then once again began to steadfastly refuse to slush any of the accumulating ice and snow from the windshield. Jean returned watchful eyes to Logan's face again, waiting to see what his reaction would be.

Logan must have felt her eyes. He turned his face toward her, giving her a brief, rueful smile. "It's not just the ice," he said. "The wipers are frozen solid."

"What?" she asked. How could wipers freeze?

"The rubber facings on the wipers," Logan explained. "If it gets cold enough, with enough frozen precip, the rubber itself will freeze and stop doin' its job. It's like tryin' to scrape ice off your windows in the mornin' with a plastic knife." He glanced at her again, saw her confused, worried look, and raised an eyebrow quizzically. "You've never experienced a Canadian snowstorm, have you?"

"No. And if you had gone back through Michigan instead of insisting that we drive back through Canada, I still wouldn't be experiencing one," Jean retorted nervously.

Logan didn't answer for a moment, instead concentrating on the road. The headlights swept slowly over the marching rows of dark firs on either side of the snowbanked road...they seemed to lean closer, noting with a perverse anticipation the increasing slowness of the Mercedes' progress. A solitary road sign materialized out of the darkness...DESESPOIR 10 km.

"Oh, God..." Jean moaned. "Ten kilometers to the nearest town. We're going to die."

Logan had seen the sign too, but Jean was surprised to see a somewhat relaxed smile come over his face. "I know where we are," he said in a tone of quiet relief.

"Dat's real good, mon ami," Remy remarked, light sarcasm edging his voice. "But Jean's right...we're never gonna make dat town in dis weather."

"We're not aiming for the town."

Jean exchanged glances with Remy. "Then where are we going?" she asked.

"I know this area...been through here a lot," Logan said. A frown was beginning to settle on his face again as the ice-free circle on the windshield continued to disappear. "There's a trappers' lodge not too far from here. We're gonna try for that, and wait out this storm."

"Speakin' of storms, Remy would love to have our Storm here right now," Remy muttered glumly.

Jean agreed in silence, but continued to regard Logan curiously. "How do you know about this...lodge?"

He shrugged. "Like I said, I've been through here a lot. And I've stayed there once or twice. There's a lot of them all over the place, if you know where to look."

The Mercedes plowed into another drift of snow, swinging wild for a second, then Logan brought her back under control with a growl. Jean's face became a carefully controlled mask to hide her mounting terror...the storm was getting steadily worse, as if some great storm god in the sky was trying to drive them back. Logan shook his head. "I'm going to have to stop," he said. "I can't see a damn thing."

"Will we get stuck?" Jean asked, unable to hide the tremor in her voice any longer. Suddenly every snowed-in movie she had ever seen came back to haunt her in spades.

"I don't know...I hope not," Logan replied. "But if I don't get out and do somethin' about those wiper blades, we're not gonna be goin' anywhere but the ditch."

The Mercedes rolled on for a few more creeping yards, then Logan began to slowly ease her over onto the shoulder of the road...at least, what was left of the shoulder beside the steadily growing snowbanks. As soon as the car hit the soft, deep snow on the side of the roadway she began to slip, swaying loosely, the murderous whisper of the thick drifts beneath her undercarriage clutching silently at the wheels and bringing her to a deceptively soft stop. Logan threw the gear shift into neutral, set the parking brake...then cast a glance at Jean and Remy's watchful faces before opening the door and stepping out into the icy blindness of the night.

Remy maintained his silence, and Jean peered as well as she could through the iced glass on the windows, watching Logan's shadowy figure in the whirling snow beyond. She could barely she him...there would be nothing to see for a moment, and then one of his hands would appear close to the windshield, grabbing a wiper and doing something to the rubber blades. He appeared to be flexing it back and forth, but in the limited visibility she couldn't be sure...then he would slam it against the glass quickly, knocking loose the ice that had coated its surface.

"You all right, chère?" Remy asked from the backseat.

"I'm fine," she replied with an unconvincing laugh. "Just a little concerned, that's all."

Logan finished with the second wiper blade, then began to move around the vehicle. Jean tracked his progress with a curious expression, the dark shape of his body moving in and out of the snow-covered shadows as he circled the entire car. Then the driver's side door opened and he sat himself inside quickly, slamming the door. His black hair was thick with melting snow...it was on the shoulders of his leather coat, clinging to his jeans, and his nose and ears already had a pinched, red look from the wind. He shuddered once, then began to brush the snow off himself quickly, looking over at Jean with cold-reddened eyes.

"Well, I fixed the wiper blades," he said.

"So we're okay?" she asked hopefully.

"We'll find out in a minute," he replied shortly. He finished knocking the snow off, then popped the gear shift into drive and released the brake. Jean watched him anxiously as he gently tapped the gas, easing them back toward the road...and then her heart sank painfully as she felt the tires begin to spin. Logan frowned and accelerated a bit, and the purr of the engine turned into a mild roar, the tires spinning, catching once...then spinning again, this time their sound turning into an angry, whining grumble.

"Shit," was all Logan said. He stared out into the storm, Jean looking at him with mounting dread, then he glanced her way and nodded toward the steering wheel. "Slide over here, darlin'. Me and the Cajun will get out and push."

"Push?!" Remy suddenly sounded alarmed. "It's cold out dere, mon ami!"

"Yeah? Well, it's gonna get a hell of a lot colder, Gumbo, so move your ass."

Remy looked nonplussed. "Don' you have any of dat stuff you people use, to put under de tires for traction?" he asked. "You know, like sand or...or kitty litter, or somet'ing?"

Jean shook her head miserably, knowing that the only thing in their trunk was their luggage, a spare tire, and a sadly misused jack. "Scott usually takes care of that stuff, but he must have forgotten."

Remy rolled his expressive eyes. "So now Remy have to get out an' push?" He reached into the front seat and grabbed his long duster, dragging it into the back and shoving his arms into the sleeves grumpily. "It's cold out dere...Remy will freeze!"

"Quit your whinin', Gumbo," Logan said. "I've already been out there...it's not that bad."

"Oui, but you're Canadian," Remy retorted. "Remy from Louisiana. We don't get snow."

Logan chuckled at that, waiting patiently for Remy to button up his duster and pull on his gloves, then both of them disappeared into the whirling snow outside. Jean slid over into the warmth of Logan's vacated seat, keeping the car in neutral while waiting for their instructions...and silently praying that this would work.


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Twenty minutes of pushing later, combined with an endless parade of small items (including coins, cigarette butts, Jean's powder compact and half of Remy's poker deck) that Remy charged and attempted to use to melt away the snow, the plan to push the Mercedes to freedom was unanimously considered a wash. Jean watched in tense silence as the men yanked open the doors to the car and piled back inside, Remy's nose a bright red from the cold, and Logan rubbing his frozen hands together and blowing on them as they both shook the snow from their hair and clothes.

"So, now what?" Jean asked quietly. She absently took Logan's hands in hers to help warm them, her fingers tightening in shock around his at their icy feel. "My God! You're freezing! Remy, give Logan your gloves!"

"I tried, ma chère," Remy said with a shrug. "Logan's hands are too big."

"I'd rather have you holdin' my hands anyway, darlin'," Logan said with a friendly wink. He allowed Jean to continue to rub his hands gently between her own, his smile fading a little as he considered their next move.

"How far is it to dis lodge you were talkin' about?" Remy asked. He leaned over the seat and reached for the heater vent, adjusting it so the warm air blew on his frozen face. "Ahhh..." he murmured. "Dat feels better."

"Not too far," Logan said. "You read my mind, Cajun...we can't stay in the car, especially if this storm gets as bad as the weatherguy says."

"Can we walk?"

"Yeah..." Logan said slowly. He looked at Jean seriously, his dark eyes thoughtful. "We can, but what about you, darlin'? Think you're up to a walk in the snow?"

"How far is it?" she asked.

"About a half a mile...maybe a little less."

Jean paled slightly. She stopped rubbing Logan's hands, casting an apprehensive glance out the window at the vanishing landscape. "That's a long walk, in this weather." Logan and Remy said nothing, allowing her to think about it in silence, and after a moment she turned and looked at them, smiling a little. "I don't have much choice, do I?" she asked.

Logan smiled ruefully. "Not really, darlin'."

She sighed and let go of his hands. "Let's go, then, before I change my mind," she said. "Are you sure you can find it, Logan? If I'm going to die, I'd rather do it here where its warm."

"I can find it," Logan replied. He turned the car off, the motor rumbling to a stop...and suddenly the silence of the car surrounded them. Jean felt a shiver of apprehension, listening to the howl of the wind and the dry rattle of the snow as it blew against the windows. This wasn't just a storm...this was a blizzard, and she was getting ready to disappear into it.

"What about our luggage?" Jean asked.

Logan shook his head. "Too much to carry...we have to move fast," he replied.

"We've got to have something. We'll be soaked when we get to the lodge."

Logan stared at her, then shook his head and laughed. "All right, fine. If you want your clothes so bad, you carry them."

"Fine."

Logan cast a glance at Remy in the backseat. "You ready, Cajun?"

Remy shrugged and nodded glumly. "I guess so."

"Let's go." Logan pulled the lever that released the trunk, then all three of them opened their doors and staggered out into the howling wind. Jean's eyes screwed shut almost immediately...the wind and snow tore at her face, making tears run and freeze in icy streaks down her cheeks, and she dug her hands into the pockets of her heavy coat and began to slog through the snowdrifts on her way around the car to the rear. She realized with a sinking feeling that the thin, elegant shoes she was wearing were hopelessly inadequate for marching through the snow...with every step she took, sinking into the piles of soft white stuff, snow was slipping over the low tops of her shoes and soaking the socks beneath. Her toes were already freezing, and she hadn't even retrieved her bag from the trunk yet!

She stumbled through the snow, lifted the partially opened trunk hatch and rummaged around inside its darkness feeling for her dark blue duffle bag. Her already numb fingers closed around its shoulder strap, and she yanked it free and slung it over her shoulder, slamming the lid back down hard to make sure it latched. What should have been a loud bang of metal on metal was instead muffled by the driving snow...Jean began to move as quickly as she could toward where the hunched and silent forms of Remy and Logan waited, dark figures silhouetted against the blinding white of their surroundings.

It was Remy she reached first, struggling through the mounting piles of snow. It was so soft she sank into it up to her knees with every step...Remy took her hand in his, holding her tightly as they began to walk forward together, unable to speak above the scream of the wind, following Logan doggedly as he led the way in silence.

Everything had a surreal look to it...what she could see, anyway, through her squinted eyelids and the swirls and eddies of white flakes. Everything was white or black...the white of the snow, and the fast-disappearing, brooding black of the scattered firs that dotted the landscape here and there. They would loom suddenly out of the snowy darkness, their limbs already beginning to droop with the heavy burdens of the snow and ice clinging to their branches, then they would disappear into the darkness behind as the three of them continued to press through that endless sea of white. Jean's bag banged against her hips with every step...then gradually she felt it less and less, until her feet and legs and hips had gone completely numb. Head down, her lips and ears aching with the cold...the only warmth she could feel was Remy's hand clutching her own, and even that began to fade after awhile. Her feet felt like nerveless chunks of ice on the end of useless legs, and that made walking more and more difficult as the minutes crept by...or maybe it was hours. She didn't know anymore...and really didn't care.

She stumbled once, and Remy hauled her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting her against the warm side of his body as he helped her along. She leaned into it instinctively, noting briefly that Logan had stopped at the top of a small rise, looking back at them, his face obscured by the driving snow...then Jean's legs gave out from under her and she collapsed like a rag doll into the drift beside Remy.

"Jean!" someone called from far away...it sounded like Remy. She tried to get to her feet again, mildly surprised when her frozen feet refused to obey...and then strong hands were under her arms, lifting her up.

"Come on, darlin'...almost there," Logan said, his voice gentle as he spoke close to her ear. Remy was holding her under her arms, supporting her against his chest, and Logan turned his back to her, reaching back and taking her wrists as he pulled her arms over his shoulders. She understood what they were trying to do immediately...her bag was gone somewhere, but it didn't matter...she wrapped her tired arms around Logan's neck and hopped up lightly with the last of her strength. Logan's strong hands caught her under her thighs, and she relaxed gratefully against the warm, broad expanse of his back as they continued on through the blinding storm.


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After what seemed like hours and hours, Jean heard Logan shouting something at Remy over the wind, and then the faint rasp of something metallic. Suddenly Logan was carrying her into a dark place, smelling faintly of cedar and woodsmoke, and she was out of the wind and snow at last. Logan tumbled her down gently on something soft and crackly, and she curled up in a frozen little ball and watched through ice-crusted eyelashes as Logan crouched down beside her.

"You okay, beautiful?" he asked. A door slammed shut behind him, dulling the keening sound of the wind, and Jean glanced past him at Remy as he threw the bolt on the door and turned around, rubbing his hands together and stamping the snow from his feet.

"I-I'm f-f-f-free-e-zing," she stammered through blue lips.

"I bet you are, with those damn shoes you're wearing," Logan remarked with a funny smile, one that managed to look amused and worried at the same time. "Hey, Gumbo!" he called to Remy. "Go check in the bathroom, through that door. There should be some blankets on top of the rack in there."

Remy nodded and hurried past a rustic, bench-style table beside the door and a tiny inset kitchen to the solitary dark door beside it. Logan sat next to Jean...she was lying on a pillowtick mattress of some sort, lumpy and stuffed with some crunchy filling that could only be straw. As Logan busied himself pulling her soaked shoes off her frozen feet, she looked around the lodge curiously...a huge, cold fireplace was next to the bed, only a short distance away from where she sat, and in front of that on the clean, hardwood floor was the biggest bear rug she had ever seen. Its massive, shaggy head was turned toward the bed, its glassy eyes dead and dark above its exposed teeth. A couch every bit as lumpy as the bed was positioned in front of the hearth, with the table set up behind it. On the far side of the small cottage was a small, efficient kitchen, with rows of fully stocked shelves above the counters...even in the dim light from the one ice-rimmed window beside the door, she could see the shelves were lined with all sorts of canned goods. Beside the kitchen there was the bathroom, apparently...the door through which Remy now came bearing a stack of brightly quilted blankets.

"Sit up, darlin'," Logan said. He pulled her to a sitting position, then helped unzip her coat and pull it off. She relaxed against the pillows behind her, and Remy solicitously began to cover her with the blankets. Logan watched this in silence for a second, then stood up and headed for the kitchen. He opened one of the drawers with the confidence of one who had been there many times, withdrawing a pack of matches, then he went to the small kerosene lamp on the table and removed the hurricane glass.

Remy finished tucking the blankets around Jean, then sat at her feet and stripped off her damp socks. He took her cold feet into his hands and began to massage them gently...Jean gave him a smile, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. His concern was touching, especially since she could still see the snow in his hair, his own lips still blue and face pale from the cold.

"I-I'll b-be f-f-fine, R-Remy," she said. "I-I'm getting w-warmer already."

Logan lit the lamp, its warm glow throwing dancing shadows across the lodge, then he adjusted the flame and replaced the glass. Remy and Jean watched as he rounded the sofa and moved to the log rack next the fireplace, its wrought iron frame filled to the top with large, well-cut logs. He grunted a little, picking them up one at a time and tossing them into the hearth, then after a decent pile was there he knelt down on the bricks and worked on getting a fire started.

Remy's fingers were warm on her feet, and she felt them caress her ankles lightly. He frowned. "Your clothes are wet, chère," he commented, then he turned to Logan with a slow grin. "She needs to get naked, non?"

Jean poked him hard with one foot. "I'm s-sure you would l-like that, Mister LeBeau," she retorted...but her voice held the faintest trace of laughter. "I-I'm f-fine," she added. "I-I'll just go in the b-bathroom and ch-change..." A funny look came over her face. "Oh, no..." she said softly. "My bag..."

"Remy got it, chère," he said, jerking toward the door with his thumb. Jean sat up on her elbows and looked at the duffle bag that was sitting next to the door, dripping melted snow all over the doormat. Her eyes narrowed a little.

"That duffle bag is green."

Remy looked at it, then shrugged. "Oui. So?"

"Mine is dark blue."

Logan stood up, the fire catching behind him and beginning to lick at the logs with orange flames. He took a few steps around the sofa, stopped as he regarded the bag in question...then he began to chuckle. Jean groaned and flopped back on the bed, one arm thrown over her face. "That's your bag, isn't it, Logan?"

"Yep."

Jean began to laugh. "Oh, God...it figures," she moaned. Remy watched with a grin as Logan went and picked up the bag, slinging it on the table and unzipping it quickly. He rummaged around inside, then pulled out a flannel shirt and tossed it to Jean, where it landed on top of the blankets.

"Remy's right, doll," he said, still chuckling. "You need to get out of your wet clothes...we all do. You can wear that shirt, if you want."

Jean picked up the shirt and unfolded it, and while she was studying it Remy stood up and crossed the floor to where Logan stood, rifling through the rest of the bag's contents. "You got somet'ing in dere for me, too?" Remy asked.

Logan pulled out a wad of clothes and shrugged. "Sure. Help yourself."

Remy began to poke around inside the bag, and Jean slid out from under the blankets, hissing in surprise as her bare feet hit the freezing cold of the cabin's floor. The fire on the hearth was just beginning to crackle nicely as she walked first to the table and picked up the lamp, then ran lightly past to the bathroom with Logan's shirt clutched in her hand. She shut the door behind her, catching a brief glimpse of Logan's muscular back as he shrugged out of his damp shirt...then the door closed and she was looking around the small interior of the cabin's only bathroom.

It was small...there was a standing shower, of the kind that probably got its water from a rain cistern in the roof, and a low toilet with a sink beside it. The linen rack that Logan had spoken of was behind the door, with more blankets piled high on top of it. That was good...because even with the fire going this place was going to be freezing as the night wore on. She placed the lamp on the back of the toilet, then began to peel her wet clothes off her body, wondering idly who had put all this stuff here...the canned food, the firewood, the quilts...Logan, perhaps? But that didn't make sense at all.

One by one each piece of her clothing went into the soggy pile on the floor at her feet. She got down to her bra and underwear, suddenly realizing that she didn't have anything to replace them...then she shrugged and stripped out of them anyway. Logan's shirt was huge compared to her slender frame, so it would hang down low and conceal what needed to be concealed. Stifled laughter bubbled up inside her...she was so glad Scott wasn't here. The thought of his Jean alone in a cottage with Logan and Remy with nothing between her and them but Logan's flannel shirt would make Scott nearly apoplectic with jealousy. Oh well...she wouldn't try contacting him until morning anyway, since he would no doubt be asleep by now, and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Jean slipped Logan's shirt on, sliding her arms into the sleeves, then slowly beginning to button it up the front. She was right...it hung on her nearly to her knees, so as long as she didn't go around sitting casually, she would be fine. She finished putting the last button through its hole, then knocked on the door lightly.

"I'm coming out, guys," she called. "Are you decent?"

"Not really...but don't let that stop you," Logan called back.

Jean laughed, a happy, bright sound now that she was one step closer to being warm and dry. "All right, I warned you," she said, and she opened the door, stooping long enough to grab the sodden mass of her clothes as well as the lamp from the back of the toilet. Logan had his back to her, his chest bare and his lower half clad in a pair of loose drawstring shorts as he draped articles of damp clothing over the headboard of the bed, but Remy was sitting on the couch, wearing only a pair of Logan's boxers as he linked his hands behind his head and grinned at her.

"Logan's shirt suits you, chère," Remy said.

Logan turned around then, and Jean felt herself flushing a little under the combined weight of their eyes. She ducked her head, smiling a little...after all, she might be Scott's girl, but every woman would love the appreciative looks of these two...and crossed to the bed beside Logan, gamely untangling her wet clothes from each other as she began to hang them on the headboard as well. "The bed is wet, isn't it?" she asked.

Logan blinked, then cleared his throat. "Yeah...you dripped," he laughed apologetically. "I thought we'd be warmer sleeping by the fire anyway."

"You're probably right." Jean finished hanging her clothes, then glanced at Logan again. "Do you have a brush I can borrow?"

"Sure. There's one in the bag," he replied. He moved back to the fire, taking a long poker from a hook on the wall and stirring the embers a little. The fire leaped up again, catching on the logs and throwing shadows across Logan's hard face. Jean glanced at him, then went to the bag and rooted around inside, her fingers closing over the hard handle of Logan's hairbrush. She drew it out, then went to sit on the couch beside Remy, pulling the band from her damp hair and beginning to brush its red mass in long, slow strokes.

The bear rug felt coarse and wonderful under her bare toes. She wiggled them a little, brushing her hair dry as she watched Logan leave the fire and disappear into the bathroom. He returned with the rest of the blankets, which he dumped on the rug close by her feet.

"You guys want something to eat?" he asked.

Remy waved a hand nonchalantly. "Non, mon ami. Remy is fine. Jus' tired."

"Me too," Jean replied, smiling up at Logan. She looked positively breathtaking, with her pale skin flushed prettily by the warmth of the fire, and the flames casting gold highlights in the soft waves of her red hair, but as usual she was completely unaware of the picture she presented. "By the way, Logan," she asked. "Who does all this stuff belong to?"
Logan sat down on the other side of Remy. "What stuff? You mean the cabin?"

"Well, yes...I mean, who bought all that food in the kitchen? And the firewood..."

Logan shrugged. "It's a trappers' cabin, Jean. It's here for whoever needs it, and when you leave, you're expected to restock everything if you can."

"And people actually do that?"

"Sure." He clasped his hands between his knees, staring into the dancing flames. "Call it trappers' honor, if you want," he added with a short laugh.

Jean laughed with him, then placed the brush on the armrest of the couch and leaned back, scooting a little closer to Remy. He looked at her, brief surprise flitting across his face, then one arm came around her shoulders lightly and hugged her slender frame against the warmth of his side. Jean looked around Remy at Logan and smiled as winningly as she could. "Don't you want to sit on the other side of me?" she asked.

Logan gave her a mildly suspicious look, but he stood up and switched sides on the couch, sitting beside Jean without a word. The couch wasn't very wide, and the space left for Logan to sit in was barely enough for his muscular bulk, so when he settled himself into the cushion there was little room for Jean. Unperturbed, she nestled herself under his arm, cozily squashed between him and Remy, where she breathed a huge, contented sigh.

Logan and Remy exchanged glances over her head, then both men burst out laughing. "You little minx," Logan growled, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. "You just wanted me to sit over here so you'd be warm on both sides."

"Yep," she said, giving him a winsome grin.

"Grab one of de blankets, Logan," Remy said. "If de fille is gonna be warm, den we should be too."

Logan leaned down, snatching up one of the quilts, then between him and Remy they managed to get it spread out over the three of them quite comfortably. Pulled up to their chests, the edge of the blanket was tucked just under Jean's chin, and she smiled happily and burrowed her toes deeper into the soft rug beneath her feet.

"Did you contact Cyke and let him know where we were?" Logan asked.

Jean shook her head. "No. I told him I wouldn't call him until tomorrow morning, when we would have been leaving the hotel. It's probably just as well," she added, grinning and blushing a little at the same time.

"Why is dat?" Remy asked.

"Because ol' One-Eye would shit bricks if he knew Jean was spending the night, locked in a cabin with the two of us," Logan replied with a snort of laughter.

Jean giggled a little with him, her blush deepening. "Well, I won't tell if you won't."

Logan chuckled again, scratching at his beard stubble thoughtfully. "I don't know...I think seeing the look on Scott's face might be worth a lot." He glanced at Jean's face, then his serious expression broke into a grin and she realized he was teasing her.

"You bum," she said, sticking her tongue out at him pertly. They laughed again, not noticing Remy's silence...and then they themselves fell quiet, snuggled close under the fluffy quilts as they watched the fire dance, listening to the howl of the wind outside as it clutched with greedy hands at the walls of the cabin. Jean felt drowsily warm, and her head slipped to the side, resting softly against the smooth flesh of Logan's shoulder as her thoughts wandered sleepily with the crackle of the flames.

"Chère?" Remy said softly, his voice startling her. She lifted her head and regarded him with a smile.

"Yes, Remy?"

"How long you been wit' Scott?"

"Too damn long," Logan growled lightly. She laughed and poked him with her elbow.

"Since high school," she replied. "Why?"

Remy shrugged, still watching the fire. "Remy jus' wonderin'...I always wanted to ask you, ever since we first met, but I jus' never got around to it." He turned his red-black eyes on Logan and nodded his head toward the table behind them. "Can you reach my cigarettes, mon ami?"

Logan leaned back, fumbled for the nearly empty pack on the table, then grabbed it and tossed it to Remy. The Cajun caught it and tapped out a cigarette, popping it between his lips and lighting it with the Zippo tucked down inside the cardboard wrapper. Jean watched his nimble, slender fingers, poised lightly at his mouth as he inhaled deeply, then he plucked the cigarette from his lips and exhaled a smooth stream of smoke in the direction of the hearth. He glanced down at Jean then as he tossed the pack back on the table, a smile lightly touching his lips.

"What is it, chère?" he asked.

Jean looked away, blushing again. "Nothing. I was just..." Her words trailed off uncertainly.

Remy studied his cigarette with a truly bemused expression. "What is it?" he repeated. "Do I smoke funny or somet'ing?"

Jean laughed at that, shaking her head. "No, it's not that at all. It's just..." She sighed, then shrugged with a slightly embarrassed smile. "I just wish sometimes that Scott smoked, okay?"

It was Remy's turn to laugh, as well as Logan's turn to look surprised. "Why would you want Scott to smoke?" Logan asked. "That shit will kill you...well, it's gonna kill the Cajun, anyway."

"At leas' Remy die happy," he replied with a cocky grin. His eyes went back to Jean's face and roved over it curiously. "You were saying, chère?"

Jean shook her head again, laughing nervously and avoiding their eyes. "It's nothing, really. I shouldn't have said anything."

Remy's eyes glowed with interest. "Tell us, chère...de way you're actin', Remy beginnin' to t'ink dat it must be somet'ing positively dirty."

"It is," she said solemnly...but her eyes were sparkling with a embarrassed good humor. "I...oh bother. I think a man smoking a cigarette looks, well...erotic, okay?" She moaned and laughed at the same time, promptly burying her head in the quilt and refusing to look at either of them as they both burst into laughter.

"Damn," Logan said. "If that's the case, let me go get my cigars."

"I knew I shouldn't have told you!" Jean wailed, laughing with them but still keeping her head buried in the blankets.

"If you t'ink dat's too embarrassin' to tell us, chère, den maybe we need to go have a talk wit' Scott," Remy remarked.

"Well, I'm not used to sharing my little fantasies with other people, Remy," Jean said, lifting her head from the blankets and tossing her hair back. She was still blushing, but she looked at Remy bravely and made a face. "I mean, really...it might not seem like much to you, but do you go around telling people about stuff like that?"

Remy shrugged, giving her a cool, unreadable smile from around his cigarette. "If dey want to know...sure. But, surely dat ain't de worst of your fantasies, chère."

Jean's blush deepened, even as she met Remy's eyes, and she laughed and ducked her head nervously. "Okay, this is getting too personal..."

"Come on, chère," Remy cajoled. He nudged her lightly with his elbow. "We have to do somet'ing to pass de time." He took another long drag on his cigarette, watching as she lifted her head and attempted to stare calmly at the fire. "Remy will let you watch him smoke, non?"

She burst out laughing. "Damn it, Remy!"

"Or should we start wit' Logan?" Remy asked with secretive smile. He looked at Logan over Jean's head, his smile widening at the black look Logan was giving him. "Of course, dat's probably too easy...everybody knows what Logan fantasizes about."

Okay, that was cutting it a bit too close for comfort. "Leave him alone, Remy," Jean said hurriedly. "Let's not start this."

"Why not? Perhaps it is de perfect time for you both to talk about...t'ings," Remy said. His eerie eyes held a challenge in them, along with the reflected flames that danced in the black of those eyes. "You probably never get a chance to talk, do you? Not wit'out others around, non?"

"There's nothing to talk about, Cajun," Logan growled softly. "Now just drop it."

Remy regarded them both in amused silence for a long while, then he took another drag from his cigarette, leaning back to look at the solitary window beside the door. It was completely covered now, iced in and frostily dark...he smiled a little, flicking his strange eyes back to his two companions, sitting silently within their private torments.

"Dere's a saying where I come from," he said thoughtfully. "I t'ink it's particularly appropriate on nights like dis. Nights where de wind howls outside, an' de world is far away..." His voice dropped to a musing whisper as he watched the crackling fire. "De only place dat truly seems to exist is de circle of light from de fire."

"What saying is that?" Jean asked softly.

"Ce soir est ce soir, et demain est demain," he replied.

"What does it mean?"

"'Tonight is tonight, an' tomorrow is tomorrow,'" he said. His eyes returned to her face, and this time there was nothing mocking in his smile...his expression was strangely tender. Jean met his eyes in silence...the wind buffeted the sides of the cabin, the soft sound of snow gusting against the walls filling the space between all three of them...then a log shifted on the fire, sending up a cloud of sparks that danced in the depths of Remy's eyes. Logan was strangely silent beside her...she could feel the warmth of his bare skin through the flannel of his shirt she wore, and the feel of his legs pressed against hers on one side, Remy's on the other...and meeting Remy's smile tentatively, she thought she might have the smallest understanding of what he had been trying to say. Tomorrow is tomorrow, she thought, then she nodded and relaxed between them, her anxiety slipping away as easily as a leaf on the wind.

"All right," she said aloud. "If I tell you my secret fantasy, you have to promise you will never tell another living soul...especially Scott."

"Dis sounds intriguing," Remy said. "Okay, we promise."

"Logan?" she asked, glancing at him with amused, blushing suspicion.

He regarded her with a casual smile, but she could see the interest gleaming in his dark eyes. "Sure, Jeannie. I promise."

"Okay." She took a deep breath, then closed her eyes. "I...I wish I could have sex in a position other than missionary at least once," she said, all in one breathless rush.

There was a moment of stunned silence...then Logan and Remy erupted in howls of laughter. Jean jumped, her eyes flying open as she stared at first Logan, then Remy...the two of them nearly falling off the couch...Remy was absolutely screaming with laughter, hanging over the arm of the couch, and Logan regarded Jean as he pawed the tears from his eyes, brought on from laughing so hard he thought he might burst on the spot.

"This is not funny!" Jean snapped, trying not to laugh herself but rapidly finding it impossible. She had never seen these two break up like this...it was alternately hysterical and utterly surreal. "Scott was my first, okay?" she added with an indignation she didn't quite feel.

"What the fuck does that have to do with it?" Logan asked, still chuckling and looking at her with in bewilderment. "Doesn't Cyke ever ask for some variety?"

That sent Remy into gales of laughter again, and Jean turned on him, watching as the seriousness of a few moments before completely vanished. "Oh, chère...Remy is so sorry," he sputtered. "I had no idea Scott was an abusive boyfriend."

"Oh, you two!" Jean yelled. She tried to get up and stalk away, but both Logan and Remy caught her at almost the exact same time and dragged her back down again, the three of them tumbling together in a heap. Jean started laughing too...their hilarity was that infectious...and she swatted playfully at them as they tried to pin her arms under the blankets. After a moment, the laughter quieted down, and Jean was left with Remy and Logan staring at her in amazement, an occasional snicker escaping from one or both of them.

"Okay, now one of you guys fess up," she said. She glanced from Remy to Logan, still blushing a little. "Come on, let's hear it."

"Like I said before, Logan's little fantasy is an easy one," Remy said slyly.

Logan shrugged and looked away. "So I want to fuck Jeannie...she knows that already."

Jean closed her eyes and buried her burning face in the blankets once more...prompting another laugh from Remy. "Mon dieu, Remy won't expectin' you to be dat forward," he chuckled. "I'm impressed."

"Yeah, well...wantin' and doin' are two different things," Logan said softly, almost to himself.

Remy gave him a dark, knowing smile. "Maybe dat will change tonight."

"Okay, that's enough," Jean said quickly, snapping her head up and glaring at Remy. "Why don't you tell us your little secrets, Remy LeBeau?"

"I want to hear another one from Logan," Remy said with a grin. He took another long drag on his cigarette, regarding her through its smoke. "We already knew about dat fantasy...let's hear what you'd like to do if you couldn't have Mam'selle Grey."

Logan stared at Remy for a moment, then he grinned a little. "That's easy," he said, a ghost of a laugh in his low voice. "I'd want to see someone else fuck her."

"Logan!!" Jean shrieked. She tried to get away from them again, but they laughed and yanked her back down, and this time she pulled the blanket over her head in mortification. "I can't believe you!" she said, her voice muffled by the quilt and her own horrified laughter.

Remy grinned, noting that even Logan had a bit of a flush to his face. Logan rubbed his eyes, shaking his head and smiling despite himself. "All right, Gumbo," Logan said gruffly. "Your turn."

Remy grinned to himself and extricated himself from the quilts without answering. He walked past the fire, the bear rug soft beneath his feet, and bent down to get one of the still-folded blankets. Jean lifted her head from under the quilts and regarded him with wary eyes as he sat down on the rug before the fire, unfolding the blanket and covering himself from toes to shoulders before curling up on the rug with a contented sigh.

"What are you doing?" Jean asked suspiciously.

"Remy goin' to sleep," he answered, dropping her a wink and closing his eyes.

"You still haven't told us your secret," Jean protested.

Remy opened one eye and grinned at her. "I know...an' I t'ink I'll save it for tomorrow."

"Oh, you!" Jean scrambled off the couch and pounced on Remy, trying to tickle him as he squirmed away from her laughing.

"I should have figured," Logan muttered good-naturedly. He waited until Jean got done attacking Remy, then nodded with his head toward the couch. "You can sleep here, Jean, if you like. I don't mind the floor."

Jean laughed breathlessly, brushing her hair away from her eyes with a delicate hand. "Actually, if you want the couch, you're more than welcome to it. I intend to kick Remy out of the way and sleep right next to the fire."

Remy clutched his blankets closer around him and regarded her with a playful smile. "You wound me, chère...you really do," he said. "As if Remy would ever stand between you an' your warm derrière."

They laughed at that, then Remy moved closer to the couch, tossing a blanket at Jean, while Logan got up and blew out the kerosene lamp on the table. Darkness and the sounds of their settling filled the cabin...Logan got back on the couch, lying on his side facing the fire with his blanket tucked around him, and Remy and Jean laid back, one on each side of the huge bear rug as the firelight cast grotesque shadows on the rough-hewn ceiling.

"Good night, Remy...Logan," Jean said softly.

"Good night, chère."

"Good night, John-Boy," Logan grumbled from the couch.

Jean giggled a little, watching the shadows flicker across the beams above her head...and listening to the soft crackle of the flames, she drifted off to sleep.

It must have been hours later when she woke again. She was lying on her back, the quilt pooled around her waist, her head turned slightly to the side facing the fire as her red hair spilled across the rug and about her shoulders. The fire had died a little...only a few tongues of flame licked quietly at the logs, and when she turned her head slowly to look at the ceiling, most of the room was bathed in shadow...leaving only a circle of dim firelight on the rug where she rested languidly. She could hear Logan's deep, sleeping breaths on the couch behind her, and she turned her head toward him...suddenly startled to see Remy's glittering eyes open and fixed on her from where he lay on his side behind her.

Their eyes met in silence for a moment, then Remy's lips curved in a slow smile. "Did I wake you, chère?" he whispered.

Jean smiled back drowsily. "No...why? What were you doing?"

"Watching you sleep," he replied softly. "An' wondering if you were cold, since de fire has died down."

Jean thought about this, then realized that the cold was what had awakened her. "I guess I am, a little," she admitted. "It gets cold in here awfully quick."

Remy's smile widened, and he lifted a corner of his blanket invitingly. "Would you like to share wit' me?" he asked. "I promise not to tell your amour."

Jean regarded him for a second, trying to judge whether he was teasing or not, then she decided he was just being nice and she smiled in return. "Okay, as long as you promise not to tell Scott," she said. "But why don't you come over here, closer to the fire?"

"I t'ought you would never ask," Remy whispered with a soft laugh. He pushed back his covers and stood up for a second, his lithe, athletic form silhouetted by the flames as he reached for the poker. He stood over Jean, stirring the embers and coaxing them into life once more...they flared up hungrily, and Remy replaced the poker, then laid down next to Jean, pulling her quilt over both of them and adding his own on top.

"Ah, dat's much better," he whispered. He lay on his side, snuggled up against her with his head propped in one hand, leaning on his elbow as he looked over her head at the fire. She found herself looking up at him, studying the profile of his chin, and the way the firelight danced over his handsome face and unusual eyes. He glanced down at her, his expression dark and unreadable, then he gave her that charming, little-boy smile that banished all the shadows lurking in his face. Jean smiled back, enjoying the warmth of his chest against her arm, his long legs brushing lightly against her bare ones as they enjoyed each other's company in silence.

"Can I ask you somet'ing, chère?" Remy said suddenly.

"Of course, Remy," she replied. "What is it?"

"Are you sure you won't get angry?"

"Why would I?"

Remy pondered this, then he looked at her with a studied expression. "Are you happy wit' Scott?" he asked.

Jean's brows drew together in surprise. "Of course I am!"

"You answer too quickly, chère," Remy laughed lightly.

"That's only because it's true. I don't even have to think about it," she replied. She wasn't angry, just surprised...what would have prompted Remy to ask such a thing?

Remy still looked mildly amused. "You are happy wit' him, non? Even when he will not...experiment?"

"Oh, that..." Jean laughed quietly and turned her head away, watching the sparks leap lightly up the chimney. "I probably shouldn't have said anything about that..."

"Why?" Remy asked. "Because you are ashamed for him...or because you are ashamed for yourself?"

"Why in the world should I be ashamed?"

"Because of your love...a love dat binds you to a man dat consistently bores you," Remy replied.

Jean stared at him in shock, her mouth open in surprise as she tried to think of something to say...but Remy only chuckled quietly and closed her mouth with one slender finger. "Do not fret, chere...you are not de first to confuse love wit' passion. Dey are two separate t'ings...but unfortunately, most of you étrangers have difficulty telling dem apart." He sighed expressively, his eyes unconsciously drifting from her face, down the smooth line of her neck and over the breasts concealed by Logan's shirt. "It is your great folly, I t'ink...an' your great curse."

"Étrangers," Jean said, testing the unfamilar word on her tongue. "What does that mean?"

"Outsiders," Remy replied. "It's the name we give anyone not from New Orleans...anyone dat is an Anglo." He smiled at her, his eyes once more locking with hers. "Anyone dat's not Cajun or Creole, basically."

"Oh," she said softly. She watched him in silence, studying the handsome contours of his face, then smiled with a teasing glint in her eye. "So all of us outsiders are doomed to a life of passionless, vanilla sex, simply because we can't separate love from passion...is that right?"

"Dat's it exactly," Remy said. He grinned at her in the darkness, the dancing flames reflected in his eyes giving him a devilish gleam. "I give you an example, non?"

"Okay."

"Take Logan dere," Remy said, looking over his shoulder at Logan's quietly slumbering form. "He wants you, desperately...an I t'ink you want him too, non? Do you love each other? Perhaps not...but de passion is dere nonetheless."

"That's really not something I want to talk about, Remy," Jean snapped softly. She could feel a hot blush staining her cheeks, and she hoped it wouldn't be noticeable by the light of the fire.

"Chère?"

"What?"

Remy's eyes softened as he looked at her. "Remember what I said earlier, about tonight?" He studied her carefully, his smile gentle. "Tonight is tonight an' tomorrow is tomorrow...an' anyt'ing we talk about tonight stays here."

She met his eyes steadily, thinking about his words while the fire snapped and popped beside them, and then her lips curved in a slow smile. "There is something magical about a night like this, isn't there, Remy?" she whispered. "It's as if you and me and Logan were the only people left on earth."

"Exactement," Remy said softly. "Dat is what it means...tonight we are de only ones on earth, or at least de only ones dat matter."

Jean thought of Logan then, the way he looked at her sometimes when he thought no one was looking, and her smile faltered a little. "Sometimes I wish it were that easy, Remy."

"It is dat easy, chère," he said. "If you had never met Scott...if dere was no one dat you loved to stand in your way, would you hesitate for an instant where Logan was concerned?"

Jean was silent for a moment, then she smiled ruefully and shook her head. "No, I wouldn't hesitate at all," she confessed softly.

"Den why don't you let yourself go, jus' dis once?" Remy whispered.

She looked at him, her eyes suddenly soft and pleading. "Because it's not just Logan," Jean murmured quietly. "It's me...wondering if I could be happy with someone other than Scott...wondering if sex can be more than it is with Scott..." She closed her eyes, turning her head away from Remy's face. "And then I hate myself for thinking these things," she added softly.

Remy said nothing for a long, silent moment, then she felt him press a little closer, one gentle hand reaching over to caress her cheek. "Would you like to find out?" he whispered softly, his breath warm against her ear.

Her eyes opened again slowly, but she kept perfectly still, enjoying the feel of his hand on her cheek but determined not to let him know. "Find out what?" she asked, her voice little more than a breathless murmur.

"What sex is like wit'out Scott," Remy said softly.

Her head snapped back to face his, her eyes wide with shock. "What did you say?" she stammered.

Remy's eyes were dark, his lips curved in a slow smile. "I never told you what my secret fantasy was, did I?" he asked, his fingers slipping along the smooth silk of her cheek and down to her neck, where he traced his thumb lightly over the tiny pulse that beat there. Jean didn't move...everything about it seemed so strange, so devoid of reason...but there was no denying the traitorous response of her body. She could feel her nipples growing hard beneath the soft rub of her shirt's flannel, brought on only by the soft, stroking caress of Remy's thumb against her skin...and she swallowed hard, trying to meet Remy's eyes steadily.

"You said you would tell us in the morning," she breathed softly. Remy's smile deepened, and he leaned up on his elbow again, his head tilted over hers as he watched the play of emotions across her face.

"Maybe I should tell you now," he whispered. "After all, tonight is tonight..."

"And tomorrow is tomorrow," Jean finished for him. They laughed quietly together, then his expression grew serious again as he watched his hand slide further down her body, over her shoulder, the fingers just brushing the soft rise at the top of her breast.

"Let us pretend," Remy murmured. "Let us pretend dat dere is no Scott, an' dere is only you an' me tonight...well, an' our slumbering ami over dere," Remy added, cocking his head toward Logan's sleeping form. Jean giggled in spite of herself, and Remy laughed softly with her...then she gasped as he surprised her by burying his face against her neck and pressing a warm, secret kiss to her skin. Her nipples tightened even more, and she closed her eyes, unable to meet Remy's gaze as he lifted his head again.

"Remy..." she whispered, feeling the need to make some token gesture of resistance...but then she felt his fingers on the buttons of her shirt, nimbly unfastening them one by one.

"Oui, ma chère..." he breathed. She lay still and breathless as he finished undoing her shirt, then he spread it open with reverent hands, exposing her breasts to the warm light of the fire. She stiffened slightly, a soft moan escaping her lips as his warm hands closed over both breasts, caressing them gently. Remy leaned forward, and she gasped as his tongue flicked from his mouth, swirling across the taut, strained pink of her nipple. He laughed softly and pulled back the quilt, covering her body under his with a swiftness that astonished her...then his hands sank into the thick, coiling softness of her hair, and he held her head in his hands as he raised up and leaned over her face.

"You never told me what your fantasy was," Jean whispered.

"Since de day we met, I wanted to make love to you, chère," Remy replied...and then his lips closed over hers.

Jean arched her back a little, opening her mouth against his without needing to be coaxed, and his tongue darted in and teased her wonderfully. She could taste the smoke of his cigarettes, and somehow that excited her more...he shifted his body slightly, coming to rest between her legs and pressing his hardening erection against her nakedness. It felt intoxicating...she spread her legs wider, wrapping them around his and letting her feet slip lightly over the skin of his thighs, and he slid down lower, cupping her breasts in his hands.

She lifted her head slightly, watching the top of his tousled brown hair with half-closed eyes as Remy flicked his tongue across her nipple. "You taste très merveilleux," he murmured against her skin...he pinched her nipples lightly between his finger and thumb, rolling them slightly, then he leaned close and took one into his mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder as he used his tongue to tease it as well as his lips. She threw back her head, rocking her pelvis against the erection she could feel through his boxers, and when he tested the sensitive flesh of her nipple with his teeth she cried out softly, praying that she wouldn't wake Logan but unable to be silent anymore.

"Like fine wine," he whispered. Remy knelt up, taking Jean's arms and gently freeing her from the sleeves of Logan's shirt. He tossed it into the shadows beyond the fire, then leaned forward with his arms to either side of her and raked his eyes over her body lasciviously. "I don' t'ink I've ever seen anyt'ing so beautiful," he said...his tongue darting over his lips as he caressed her smooth, naked skin with his eyes. He began to lower himself down the length of her body, his hands leaving gentle trails over her skin as he kissed her between her breasts, then the smooth, quivering tautness of her stomach. She ran her hands over his shoulders as he slid lower...her eyes closed, head thrown back as she sighed beneath his fingers. She could feel his lips pressed against her skin, the warmth of his breath, and he flicked his tongue inside her navel and startled a giggle from her lips. Then Remy's hands slid down her waist, holding her briefly as he slipped lower, kissing her gently on the soft, red curls of her pubic hair.

His hands slid over her thighs, spreading them further apart gently, and she jumped as he lowered his head and pressed another soft kiss to the slit of her nether lips. A kiss first to the inside of one slender thigh, then the other...and then he buried his face between her legs, sliding his hands underneath her as he gripped her hips tightly. His tongue probed between her vaginal lips, and she bit back a cry, clutching at the rough fur of the bear rug beneath her as Remy's tongue stroked her clitoris. He glanced up at her, his eyes sparkling wickedly at the reaction he was provoking, then he moved his hands back between her legs, spreading her open with his fingers as gently as one would open a flower. He dipped his head down once more, catching the nub of her clit between his lips and sucking on it, and she whimpered a little with an excruciating delight, watching his face through half-closed eyes. Remy then lifted his eyes slowly to hers, savoring her response as he stroked that tiny button of flesh with his teeth, then he used his tongue to trace a slow, moist line over the sensitive skin beneath.

Jean's head fell to the side, her lips parted slightly, her breath quickening as Remy's tongue licked her as daintily as a cat...then he slid his tongue inside her with exquisite slowness. She was panting now, soft, muffled cries of pleasure as he made love to her with his mouth, every muscle tensed from the delicious feel of his tongue and lips as they worked their wicked magic. Remy began to concentrate on her clit, sucking it until she was fighting a shriek...then he slid two of his fingers inside her, and Jean did cry out then, arching her back as Remy stroked her with his fingers and tongue. Her head slipped to the side once more, away from the firelight, and she gasped aloud as he nipped her skin...she opened her eyes in a state of heightened arousal and delirium, her gaze falling without comprehension on the couch...

Logan was sitting up, watching them.

"Oh God!" Jean whispered in horror and shame, suddenly, rudely startled out of the erotic reverie into which Remy had seduced her. She shoved him away, and he fell back on his knees, staring at her in mild confusion...then he followed her gaze to where Logan sat in silence, watching them with black, glittering eyes from the shadows beyond the firelight.

Remy smiled, looking completely unperturbed. "I'm sorry, mon ami. Did we wake you?"

Logan seemed frozen...he said nothing, continuing to watch them both in brooding silence, while Jean looked away, blushing deeply and trying to clutch one of the quilts to her naked breasts. Remy snatched the blanket away from her, catching her wrists and pushing her back to the floor gently, where he held her down, his face inches from hers.

"Where you goin', chère?" he asked softly.

"Let me go, Remy," Jean said. She was dying...dying of embarrassment, dying of shame of what she had done to Scott...and that shame increased when she realized her excitement had not dimmed one bit. Even Remy holding her down, straddling her...the feel of his arousal pressed against her stomach was making her wet even as it frightened her.

"Surely you don' want to stop jus' because Logan is watching?" Remy asked with a soft, satyr-like laugh. "After all, dat was his fantasy...to watch another man make love to you."

Jean looked at Logan, searching his face for anger, or maybe that he was going to jump up and beat the shit out of Remy...but instead his eyes were dark with something else, a heady mixture of longing, confusion, and lust. Remy saw his expression as well, and he laughed softly to himself, kneeling up and releasing her for a moment as he began to remove his boxers. Jean looked at him slowly, her own arousal deepening as Remy's hard, beautiful erection came free of his clothes...she knew she should get up now that he wasn't holding her down, get away from him...but then he was naked and stretching out on top of her, spreading her thighs apart as he turned her face to his and kissed her lingeringly.

"No, Remy..." she murmured brokenly against his lips, at the same time her mouth sought out his passionately. "It's not right...Scott..."

He leaned up on his elbows, his smile sexy and wicked as he met her eyes. "Dere is no Scott tonight, chère...remember? Jus' you, notre belle petite, an' me..." he whispered, sucking on her bottom lip tenderly. "An' Logan makes three, non?"

"Logan..." she sighed, spreading her legs wider without a thought as Remy rubbed his cock against her soft, trembling flesh.

"Oui, ma petite," Remy breathed. He slid his hands under her shoulders, supporting her slightly, then he kissed her slowly, tasting her with his tongue...Jean's eyes were closed as he opened his mouth against hers, their tongues meeting, stroking...then he slowly lifted his gaze as he continued to kiss her and met Logan's dark eyes. A slow grin spread across Remy's face...he watched Logan as Logan watched Jean, his hand stealing to his own stiffening erection, where he began to rub it slowly, obviously aroused by her reaction to Remy.

Remy smiled, shifting himself until the head of his shaft was pressing against the hot, moist opening between Jean's legs...then just as Logan's eyes met his, he thrust himself inside her. Jean shrieked at the ceiling, her head tossing limply even as her hips snapped upward to meet his, and Remy allowed his weight to sink against her, Jean's perfect breasts crushed against the taut muscles of his chest as he caught her smooth thighs in his hands. He lifted her legs, grimacing with pleasure as she hooked them about his waist...and he slowly began to move against her, thrusting in and out of her tight, slick heat as she whimpered and writhed beneath him.

Jean opened her eyes, sliding her hands over the smooth muscles of Remy's back as he arched like a lynx under the scratch of her nails. Remy was much better endowed than Scott, and his cock felt wonderful, filling her up with every pump of his hips. She was acutely aware of Logan's eyes still on them...her head slipped to the side, her lips parted as she panted and gasped with Remy's smooth, powerful thrusts...and she saw Logan had pulled his own cock out, his big hand gripping it as he watched them and stroked his own hard, standing flesh. Logan was even bigger than Remy, and she felt a deliciously naughty wave of wanton longing fill her...she wanted both of them, God help her, and the dark, feral gleam in Logan's eyes suggested he was thinking the same thing.

Remy's mouth was on her neck, kissing her, and he sped up the rhythm of his thrusts, one hand on each breast as he murmured something soft and laced with accented passion in her ears. The French cadence of his voice had thickened, the soft lilt of his accent setting her on fire..."Ah, tu ravir..." he whispered, and she moaned as he caught her earlobe between his lips, sucking it lightly, rubbing and pinching her nipples with his thumbs as his breath began to quicken.

"Yes, Remy...yes..."

"Ma belle Jean..."

There was a low, rumbling growl from Logan...she glanced over at him, seeing his head thrown back against the back of the couch as he grimaced in mingled pain and pleasure, and Remy was pumping faster, panting harshly...she could feel her own climax building, and this time, unlike with Scott, she knew Remy would help her reach it...he slipped his hands under her hips, lifting her slightly as he continued to thrust inside her, harder and faster with every stroke...

"Yes! Oh God..." she cried, clutching Remy close as her first real orgasm broke inside her. Remy was moaning, his face suddenly buried in her neck as his hips bucked against hers violently, his gasps ragged but as soft as a boy as his cock spurted warm inside her. The agonizing exquisiteness of her climax made her cry out again, wrapping her legs around Remy tightly and squeezing him close to her, her every muscle trembling...Logan snarled a second later, clenching his teeth as white cum shot from his cock...I did that, she thought deliriously, and Remy collapsed against her with a gasp, breathing heavily, his eyes closed as he rested his head against her shoulder.

"Ma chère..." Remy breathed softly, lifting a trembling hand to her face. She surprised herself by catching his hand in hers and bringing it to her lips, where she sucked one of his fingers, gazing at him with sultry, contented eyes.

"Do it again, Remy," she whispered, her voice a soft, silky purr.

"I will, ma amour," he murmured back.

There was a rustle beside them...both had forgotten Logan for that brief moment, and now he got up without a sound and strode past them, disappearing into the bathroom. Jean saw him go, a look of worry flitting across her face as she pushed gently away from Remy and sat up. "Logan?" she called after him...but he shut the door behind him rather than answer. She suddenly felt bereft, gazing after him with her hands in her lap...then Remy sat up behind her, pressing his chest against her back, his hands sliding around to cup her breasts as he pressed a delightful kiss against her neck.

"He'll be back, chère," Remy whispered, a soft laugh in his voice. He kissed her again, and she closed her eyes, leaning into the warm hunger of his lips as he sucked lightly on her neck.

"Why did he leave?" she murmured, the touch of Remy's tongue as he licked along the soft curve of her ear beginning to stir the excited lust inside her once more.

Remy chuckled, his breath warm on her skin. "He probably wanted to clean himself up a bit, non?"

"Oh," she giggled softly. Remy's arm tightened about her waist as his other hand squeezed her throbbing nipples, and she gasped, moaning softly as he pressed his already returning erection against the soft curve of her ass. The bathroom door opened again, and Logan came out slowly, watching them in silence...he looked slightly confused, but the dark want in his eyes was still there, and as he watched Remy lift and fondle Jean's creamy breasts, Jean watched Logan through lidded eyes as his extremely well-proportioned cock began to stiffen and rise again.

Remy lifted his head slowly from Jean's neck, pressing his erection against Jean's ass a little more forcefully. She moaned again, and he looked up at Logan with a wicked grin. "Care to join us dis time, mon ami?" he asked with a soft laugh.

Logan's eyes flickered from Remy's to Jean's, and when he met her sultry stare Jean licked her tongue across her lips, daring him to come closer. A slow smile began to spread across Logan's face...he lifted an eyebrow at Jean, then took a few steps closer before coming slowly to his knees in front of her. Now all three of them were kneeling together, Remy behind Jean where he continued to bite and nibble lightly at her neck and shoulders, and Logan in front of her, his eyes dark and patently mysterious as he studied her face.

"Why?" was all he said, his voice soft and filled with longing.

She didn't know how to answer that...she didn't know how to explain to him about the loneliness, the dark spirit that hid inside her heart that she could never show Scott because Scott could never understand. Remy had recognized that darkness, though...maybe Logan did too. "Why not?" she said with a small smile.

Their eyes met for an endless moment...then Logan closed the distance between them and crushed his mouth against hers, kissing her hard as he cupped her face between his palms. Jean gasped against his lips with the forcefulness of his kiss...he opened her mouth with his tongue, and she began to return the kiss, devouring his lips with a sensual delicacy.

"Oh God..." Logan murmured. "Jean..."

She pulled him closer, kissing him desperately, her fingers slipping into the crisp thickness of his tousled black hair. "I'm yours tonight, Logan..." she whispered, and the words were true, and not just spoken to somehow soften the delicious wantonness of what they were doing. "I belong to both of you..." she breathed, reveling in Remy's lips against the back of her throat, his hands caressing her breasts, even as Logan nipped lightly at her lips, a low, husky growl rumbling deliciously in his chest.

Remy's hands released her gently, and then Logan had his arms around her, lowering her backwards until she was stretched out on the floor once more. He stalked up her body, his eyes dark and gleaming with animalistic lust, settling his powerful bulk between her thighs, the head of his cock slipping easily between her already moistened lips and nudging against the sensitive flesh it found there. Jean slipped her fingers through the soft covering of his chest hair, feeling the heat of his skin pressed against hers...then Logan shifted and slammed the huge girth of his cock inside her to the hilt.

"Oh God...!"

Jean moaned, on the threshold of an exquisite pain from the size of him, stretching her wide...then Logan's mouth found hers in a tender kiss as he began to thrust in and out of her slowly. The pain, so close to pleasure already, shifted into a quivering lusciousness that made her whimper softly, her legs wrapped around his hips and locked together as the powerful muscles of his body flexed with every movement. What Logan lacked in Remy's finesse he more than made up for with sheer size and an instinctive knowledge of what would make Jean cry out and beg for more...his teeth grazed her nipple, rolling the tender flesh between his teeth as Remy's gentle hands cupped the other and stroked it expertly.

Remy was on his hands and knees beside her head, leaning over as he massaged her breasts, pausing every other moment or so to take one perfect nipple into his mouth where he sucked hard, sending shivers of delight through Jean's body as Logan continued to thrust inside her. Her eyes glanced up and saw Remy's cock, hard and close to her mouth. She lifted her head and caught the head with her lips, sucking it just long enough to make Remy gasp. His hand relaxed on her breast as he looked down at her, noting the soft passion in her eyes, her lips open and panting softly, moaning as Logan grabbed her hips and began to ride her hard.

Her body shook with his thrusts. "Yes..." she hissed through clenched teeth. "Faster..." Then she looked back up at Remy, licking her lips with anticipation.

Remy smiled slowly, shifting forward slightly until Jean was able to take his entire shaft into her sweetly wanting mouth. Logan watched this little exchange without a shred of jealousy...instead it made him harder...he knelt up slightly, catching Jean's legs under the knee and lifting them, pressing her thighs against her stomach as he began to fuck her in earnest. Her full, luscious lips closed over Remy's cock, and Remy closed his eyes with a hiss of pleasure, his head tilting back as she began to suck his shaft...one of her hands came up, grasping his standing flesh at the base of the shaft, alternately squeezing gently while she sucked with long, languorous movements, cupping and stroking his balls. Logan groaned, watching her slender white fingers curling around Remy's cock, and he imagined them on his as he began to slam himself inside her with harder and faster strokes.

Jean sucked hard, enjoying the sound of Remy's soft, tortured moans mingling with hers...she tried to concentrate on pleasuring Remy, but the pounding Logan was giving her was incredible, and her moans swiftly became ecstatic cries. Remy's cock made a popping sound as it slipped from her lips...then as if one cue Logan was withdrawing as well, leaving her to make little pleading sounds as their muscular bodies moved around her in the firelight.

Logan sat back, his legs stretched out in front of him, his cock still standing at attention as he shook his hair back away from his face. Remy's hands were gentle on her as he lifted her to a sitting position, guiding her toward Logan's ready erection. She got on her hands and knees and crawled toward him, her red hair tumbling down over one eye as she nearly purred with want and contentment.

Remy was at her side, brushing her hair back over one ear as he brought his lips close to her cheek. "Show Logan what you showed me, chère," he whispered, and Jean understood. Her smile was that of a naughty schoolgirl as she crept forward, her hands sliding over Logan's thighs, her nails digging into his flesh just enough to make him flinch and gasp...then she dipped her head and took his cock into her mouth, tasting herself on his skin as she began to suck him off as hard and well as she could.

Logan's hoarse groan was music to her ears...she sucked harder, teasing him with her tongue, letting it swirl over his flesh before taking the entirety of his cock into her mouth and sucking it hungrily. Logan's hands sunk into the thick red fire of her hair, almost unable to catch his breath with the way she tortured and satisfied the sensations in his loins. He looked up, almost as an afterthought, and saw Remy through glazed eyes as he knelt behind Jean.

Remy caressed the smooth, rounded curve of her ass with both hands, then he let his fingers trail lightly over the little pink mouth that nestled there above the soft nest of red hair between her legs. He quickly put his mouth to her cunt, tasting the delicious mingled wetness of himself and her and Logan, then he slipped his tongue inside her, holding the sudden bucking of her hips still as he sucked at the rosy slit. Jean started making those delightful little whimpering cries again, her soft voice muffled by Logan's cock in her mouth, and Remy smiled as he lifted his head and slipped his fingers inside her once more. Her back arched, a delicious cry escaping her mouth, and he spread her ass cheeks wider, fingering her gently as he flicked the tip of his tongue across the tiny opening of her anus.

"Oh...God..." Jean moaned aloud, the sudden shock and unexpected sensation of Remy's touch in that place making her leave off her attentions on Logan. Remy laughed softly and nudged her forward, prompting her to look back at him over one lovely shoulder with a slightly confused, yet utterly ravishing expression.

"Lay down, Logan," Remy instructed. Logan did so immediately, anticipating whatever new game Remy had in store, his erection jutting up into the air and gleaming wetly in the glow from the fire. Remy grinned wickedly at Jean, and she gave him a wanton smile in return. "We gon' give you somet'ing different, non?"

"What?" she whispered, a dark, glittering excitement in her eyes.

"Patience, ma vilain petite," he laughed. "If you ride Logan again, I will show you."

"My pleasure," Jean purred softly. She crept up Logan's body, sliding her softness across his thighs, and he winced as her breasts brushed against his erection. She shifted lightly, straddling him with his cock just barely touching the hot, wet space between her legs, then she mounted him, his cock slipping inside her slick heat with an agonizing thrust of delight.

"Ohhhhh...!" She threw back her head and screamed aloud as an orgasm caught her by surprise, slicing up through her body with that one delicious thrust. Logan grunted, grabbing her hips as she collapsed against his chest, and he began to snap his hips upwards, bringing another slow climax on the heels of the one she was still being rocked with...she lifted her head, biting her lips with the exquisite torture of it...and Logan wrapped her hair around his fists, pulling her face close so he could ravish her mouth with his rough, wild kiss.

She could feel Remy behind her as he kneeled between Logan's legs and hers, his strong, slender fingers stroking her tight ass cheeks, and his fingers reached between her legs slightly and touched the slick wetness he found there. He captured some of its dewy heat on the tips of his fingers, and Jean jumped, gasping, panting harshly as he rubbed the tip of his wet forefinger against the tighter opening of her ass. Logan's hands reached around her, grabbing her hips and spreading her ass cheeks wider, and Remy knelt up, taking his hard cock in his hand and pressing it against her anus...gently at first, then more forcefully as Jean exhaled a low moan.

"Gently, chère," Remy was murmuring. Logan seemed to know what Remy was doing, and he sped up the rhythm of his thrusts, his hands on Jean's hips spreading her even wider as Remy slowly forced his way into her ass. Jean moaned again, biting her bottom lip, her eyes squeezed shut as she savored every slow, patient inch that Remy worked inside her...then Logan was dragging her mouth back down to his, kissing her hard and rough...just as Remy gave a mighty shove and slammed his cock all the way inside.

Jean shrieked even as Logan kissed her hungrily, the feeling of being stretched wide by both those incredible cocks at the same time nearly making her faint. She couldn't move...the pleasure was too great, and when Logan and Remy began to fuck her again she clung to Logan's broad chest and buried her face in his taut muscles, feeling the slowly mounting climax building inside her. Her lower half felt like it was on fire...Logan lifted her face with sure hands and kissed her again, and she returned his fiery kisses with a fierce desperation as her orgasm came closer and closer to the breaking point.

Remy was holding onto her hips, slamming himself in and out as he felt himself drawing closer to the edge as well. He forced himself to be conscious of Jean and Logan...wanting them to finish together, knowing that somehow that would make this whole experience more than perfect...and as Logan clenched his teeth, his eyes shut tight as a low snarl escaped his throat, a triumphant smile spread across Remy's face. He watched as Logan grabbed Jean's face and gave her another powerful, punishing kiss, their mouths ravaging each other...

Jean dug her nails into Logan's chest and screamed, her entire body taut and trembling as wave after wave of her climax shuddered through her body...Logan snarled, almost roaring, his head thrown back and the muscles of his neck standing out in stark relief...and Remy caught his bottom lip between his teeth, slamming his cock into Jean's tight, quivering ass one last time, feeling the warm semen pump inside her, the tiny muscles of her anus clenching around his shaft as he moaned, collapsing against her back as she in turn nearly fainted on Logan's chest.

Jean closed her eyes, panting softly, and a sweet little moan trembled on her lips as she clung to Logan's powerful body, loving the warm feel of his hands as he slowly brought them up to her upper arms and caressed them tenderly. She was pinned, trapped between them both with their cocks still buried inside her, but it felt wonderful...she turned her head slightly and nuzzled the hair on Logan's chest, smiling to herself when she felt the deep rumble of his low laugh vibrating under her cheek. Remy was smoothing the tousled strands of her hair over one shoulder, pressing soft, butterfly kisses on her back as he shifted a little and withdrew from her gently, stretching out on the floor beside them with a soft sigh.

She stayed with Logan, lifting her head and taking his face between her palms gently. She feathered his entire face with sweet little kisses, until he chuckled and caught her mouth against his once more, this time tasting her slowly with his tongue as their mouths opened to each other. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled over on his side, sandwiching Jean in between Remy and himself, where he continued to stroke the soft length of her thighs with gentle fingers as he kissed her.

"I love you, Logan," she whispered against his mouth, and there was no artifice in those words, or deception, or a rationalization of what they had done together. It was true...her feelings for Logan, for them both...while different from what she quite properly felt for Scott, it was love nevertheless. Perhaps the best kind of love there is.

"Love you too, darlin'," Logan said huskily. He kissed her forehead, his arms tightening about her waist.

"Remy?" she murmured over her shoulder.

Remy's hand touched her thigh, caressing it slowly as she felt him press his long body against her back. "J'taime, ma douceur," he whispered in her ear. "Et merci."

"No, I should thank you," she whispered, turning on her back so she could caress Remy's cheek with her hand. "Thank you both...I never knew it could be like that."

Logan laughed beside her, resting his heavy head on her shoulder as he snugged his arm loosely about her waist, and Remy took her hand in his and pressed a gentle kiss into her palm. She closed her eyes in complete exhaustion and contentment, listening to the wind as it howled all around the eaves outside, rattling the windows, and the slow, warm crackling of the fire...losing herself in the feel of Logan's warmth pressed against her side, the stirring touch of Remy's lips on her skin...and she relaxed and let herself go, hoping that tomorrow might never come.


__________________________________________________



Sometime before dawn they slept, and when Jean awakened again the cool, blue light of a snowy morning was glimmering faintly through the ice-encrusted glass of the cabin's single window. The storm had calmed, with only an occasional muttering gust blowing against the cabin's walls, but through the tiny circle of clear glass left in the frosted windowpane she could see a light snow still falling against the gray of a winter's morning. They wouldn't be getting out today, that much was certain...and Jean found herself pleased by the thought.

One of them, either Remy or Logan, had got up during the night and put a few more logs on the fire, and it was burning brightly, infusing the small room with soft warmth, and she settled her cheek against Logan's chest and watched the fire drowsily. The bear rug was warm and soft beneath them, the quilts pulled up to her chin and tucked in nicely, and she was snuggled up to Logan's side as he lay stretched out on his back, one arm curled about her gently as he slumbered. She smiled to herself, enjoying the steady rise and fall of his chest in sleep as she played idly with the coarse mat of his chest hair. Remy was curled up against her back, his legs entwined with hers and one hand on the soft curve of her hip, his face buried against the back of her neck as he too slept.

Something inside her wanted to feel guilty...it really did, but she realized with a sleepy, pleased surprise that she couldn't feel guilty no matter how hard she tried. Remy was right...tonight is tonight and tomorrow is tomorrow...and from the looks of things through that single icy window, tomorrow might be a long time coming. Sometime later, after they were all awake and she could take a moment to clear her mind, she would use her telepathy to contact Scott, to let him know where they were and that they all were safe. He would be calm, efficient, as he always was. He would agree that the best thing would be for them to stay put until the roads were clear, and he wouldn't even get that faint tang of jealousy to his thoughts, since, after all, she was with Logan and Remy, not just Logan alone. He wouldn't worry...and maybe tomorrow, life would go as it always had.

But not today. Jean snuggled down deeper under the quilts, nestled against the strong muscles of Logan's chest and sighing happily as Remy's hand stirred on her hip. Tomorrow or the next day, the world outside would be waiting, but for now there was only Remy, and Logan, and herself...and so many more wonderful things to learn.


The End ;)