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Chapter Twelve: Raising and Calling
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Logan strolled into the gym and dropped his towel on a convenient bench before approaching the sparring mat. Regardless of the fact this wasn't a proper dojo, he stopped and bowed before stepping onto the mat. He lowered himself to the floor and stretched leisurely, enjoying the feel of Jean's eyes on him as he loosened up his powerful body. It was late enough that they had the place to themselves. Logan usually came late, preferring the quiet for his personal workouts and Jean frequently came late when her work piled up in the lab. They usually managed to miss each other, but tonight Logan was glad they hadn't. It was the perfect opportunity to push her a little, both in his official capacity as sensei and in a more private, intimate capacity as well.
While she was stretching on the far side of the mat, he let his gaze slide hotly over her lithe body and he let her see him do it. She rolled her eyes at him, but he noticed her movements became a little more sensual than they had been a minute ago. He bit back a smile. She worked hard to make her black leather uniform look good and fuck, did it. The black leather was his favorite, but right now he thought her black athletic pants and matching sports bra looked pretty damn good.
Awareness, both physical and sexual, sparked wildly between them like a bolt of intense electricity arcing between two lightning rods. The air fairly crackled with it. This was the first time they'd been alone together since the incident in Charles' office - and, for that matter, the first time they'd been alone together since she'd taken off Scott's ring. It was a small difference, but something that oddly enough was more notable to him in its absence than it ever had been in its presence. It had never stopped him from doing what he wanted when she was wearing it, but surprisingly, he found he felt a lingering sense of satisfaction in the fact that she was no longer wearing another man's mark... and it made his intense desire to claim her all the more urgent.
The game had moved to a completely new level.
Logan rose to his feet with predatory grace, knowing full well she'd be able to see the sizable erection clearly outlined in his black silk gi. He grinned inwardly at her soft gasp. He wasn't an idiot. He knew his body looked good. He knew what it did to women, and most especially, he knew what it did to Jean. He also knew she was watching him and he wasn't above using his body to fluster the very proper Dr. Grey. He rolled his neck, waiting for that familiar pop before he stretched his arms over his head and arched his back, reveling just as much in the physical pleasure of the hard stretch as he did in Jean's sharp intake of air. Her scent changed and he flashed her a knowing smile.
Tonight she wasn't playing coy. He felt the electric touch of her mind in his almost immediately. He relished the power of her presence. She was a worthy opponent on so many levels. Mentally. Physically. Sexually. Tonight she felt strong, sleek, playful. She held herself apart, aloof as always, but he could feel equal amounts of amusement, irritation, and arousal swirling around inside her. She was as ready to play as he was. He felt good, primed for both a hard workout and another round with Jean. He bounced lightly on his feet, simply enjoying the feel of his well-honed body as it responded effortlessly to his commands. He adjusted himself casually and shot Jean a cocky little grin just because he was feeling his oats tonight and wanted her to know it.
{Nice pants.}
He'd been expecting a rebuke for his graphic physical display and the dry sarcasm in her words surprised him. It was part of the draw. He never knew quite what to expect from her.
{Glad you approve, Red.} Time to have a little fun. He deliberately caught her eye and slowly ran the flat of his palm down the length of his silk covered erection. He knew she'd be as excited by watching him as she would by feeling his pleasure bleed through the link. {The silk is nice... but I think I'd like the feel of your silk around me better, darlin'.}
Accustomed to their erotically charged verbal banter, she was prepared for his openly sexual response and smirked prettily before she shot his own words back at him. {Whatever gets you through the day, Logan.}
His sharp bark of laughter rang out. {Well, that might get me through the day, darlin', but it's gonna take a helluva lot more than that to get me through the night.} He paused, growling playfully into her mind. {I still haven't forgotten you owe me an orgasm, Red.} Her head snapped up and her eyes found his. {Maybe it's time I collected.}
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him he was welcome to try to collect on that particular debt... if he could, but she knew if she did that he'd have her pinned flat on her back under him faster than she could form a coherent protest.
{You're fuckin' right, I would.}
Rising gracefully from the floor, she ignored his little taunt and slipped on her headphones before stepping onto the treadmill. She set it for a fast jog and turned the volume on her headphones way up. She knew it wouldn't drown out his mental voice, but it would be a welcome distraction and she'd always liked listening to her music loud. She knew it was bad for her hearing, but she honestly didn't care. Every one of them had a vice or two. Remy smoked, 'Ro had a penchant for gambling, Hank swore eloquently in Latin when an experiment got the better of him, even Charles had a particular fondness for fine claret. And Logan... well, Logan was the king of vice. Jean smiled as the first few notes crackled loudly in her ears.
Across the room, Logan's head came up abruptly. He listened intently, not quite believing what his acute hearing was telling him. You gotta be shittin' me. Rammstein? He watched her cringe a second as the decibel level rose and she settled into a smooth rhythm as her ears became accustomed to the loud sound and her steps synchronized with the pulsing beat. He bit back a grin. He knew German and he bet she had no idea how kinky the lyrics were. Logan choked on a laugh. {Jesus, Red.} He shook his head in amusement. He still couldn't get over someone as proper as Jean actually liking that kind of raw, gritty music.
A rather indignant mental snort echoed in his mind. {There's a lot you don't know about me, Logan.}
He raised an eyebrow at her in that infuriating way of his. {Listenin' in to a man's private thoughts is a bad habit, darlin'.} He grinned wickedly at her. {Better be careful. You never know what kinda thoughts you might overhear...}
The sexual innuendo was intentional and unmistakable. He felt Jean withdraw from his mind far enough so she wouldn't be able to pick up his personal, private thoughts, only the ones he specifically directed at her. Just to be sure, he replayed one of his more graphic fantasies involving Jean, grunting with satisfaction when he glanced her way and saw no hint of awareness on her features.
Logan padded barefoot to the center of the sparring mat and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Jean's scent had become stronger as her body warmed up and he breathed out, pushing his awareness of her intoxicating scent from his consciousness. He breathed in again to center himself and breathed out, letting his arousal drain away. Another breath. In. Out. He felt his mind clearing and his erection subside. A woman had no place in his thoughts now. There could only be perfected form, refined motion and rigid discipline.
He bowed, honoring his invisible sensei and began to move through the intricate steps of an ancient kata he couldn't remember learning but one he could execute flawlessly. He worked every inch of the mat, each move an exercise in humility and power. There was no pride, no anger, only perfect forms breathed to life through fluid motion. He exuded power, commanding respect and deference through form and motion instead of attitude and arrogance. He moved with savage grace, at once beautiful and dangerous.
Jean couldn't tear her eyes away from him. She knew he bore the title sensei for a reason, but this display was beyond imagination. Jean was aware each of them had their individual strengths -strengths they shared with each other to reinforce the team. She taught the others rudimentary medical knowledge so any of them could function as a field medic if needed. Scott taught them tactical thinking. Storm showed them how to use elements in their environment to their advantage. Remy taught them how to get in and out of impossible places... and so on and so forth. Everyone contributed something to make the team stronger.
Logan taught them to fight, both offensively and defensively and to utilize both classic fighting styles as well as the down and dirty back-alley kind of moves. He was a very skilled teacher and she'd known for some time that he knew the ancient discipline he was performing now, but in all the times he'd trained them, she'd never seen him move like that. His formidable strength was no longer leashed, it flowed fluidly, rigid yet flexible. Her eyes widened in awe. He made no sound, save for the slide of his soles across the mat and the soft rasp of warm silk against hot skin. Jean was entranced by his utter mastery of the exercise. He was nothing short of poetry in motion.
Abruptly she became aware he was moving to the beat of her music. She was in absolute awe. No single movement was held too long and none appeared to be hurried or rushed in any way, yet he was unmistakably keeping exact time with the beat pounding in her ears. Suddenly she understood. It was his silent nod to her, an acknowledgement of her presence at something he usually performed in private.
Her breath caught when she realized he had his eyes closed - and that they'd been closed since he started. Sweat beaded on his face and curled the dark hair at his nape. She'd never seen him push himself this hard, yet he never once looked as if the intricate movements were difficult or even the slightest bit taxing in any way. She knew they had to be though, to make him sweat like that.
Finally, he returned to the center of the mat and bowed again, bringing the breathtaking exercise to a close. Jean had long since given up on the treadmill in favor of watching a master at work, and now she stepped away from the wall and removed her headphones, turning them off with a simple thought. She could hear him breathing in the thick silence. He turned to her and bowed, inviting her onto the mat with a formal dignity he reserved for this and this alone.
Observing the etiquette he'd taught her, Jean swiftly divested herself of her shoes and socks and removed her watch, placing them on the bench along with her headphones before coming to the edge of the mat and bowing. Regardless of their personal battles, she gave him the respect he was due in this place. Here he wasn't the man she fought with and ached for. Here they were simply teacher and student and she knew that although he was master here, he would not dishonor himself by taking advantage of that position. It was beneath him.
She knelt at the edge of the mat waiting for him to acknowledge her. He waited until she was settled and still before directing her to join him in the center of the mat. Jean approached him and bowed, slightly deeper than he did, in deference to his position as both master and teacher in this place. He assumed a familiar position and she prepared to follow him through the most difficult kata he'd taught her. After two clumsy attempts, she sighed inwardly in frustration. She knew the steps. She knew what they should look like. She just couldn't make her body do it. Taking a deep breath she tried again.
{Stop.} Jean obeyed the soft command. {Close your eyes.} He wanted her to close her eyes? She couldn't even do this with her eyes open, let alone closed.
Logan could feel her uncertainty bleeding through the link. {It's not your place to question me.} A soft but stern reminder that a student does not hesitate to follow a master's direction. Duly chastised, Jean closed her eyes and subconsciously, her breathing slowed until it matched his even rhythm. {Now feel me.} Jean reached out with her hand. {No. Not like that.} She dropped her hand and instead reached out to him with her mind.
Logan began to move. {Now feel me, Jean.} She began to move with him. {Feel us.}
From the observation room that overlooked the gym, Scott watched the couple begin to move in tandem, hesitantly at first, and then more confidently until they were moving together in perfect unison. One breath. One heartbeat. One body. One mind. The intimacy between them was unmistakable. Sharing a single consciousness was incredibly intimate, even more so than sex in some ways. A weaker man would have turned his eyes away. Scott continued to watch.
Down on the mat, Jean felt as if her body was an extension of Logan's. Instead of guiding her through every motion, he let her move on her own, checking her movements when she overreached and pushing her when she didn't extend herself far enough - correcting her with his mind. Thought became form. Slowly she began to understand the cadence, began to feel the rhythm as he did. She felt her mind begin to clear and become placid until there was no Jean and no Logan there was only motion and peace.
As her mind quieted through the intense physical forms, she achieved a clarity of thought she'd never before felt, not even in meditation with Charles. Without those distractions, she could clearly feel the beast rising within her. This time she didn't suppress it, but instead let it come. The raw power was frightening as it welled up inside her, but this time her mind was sufficiently prepared to control it. As the awesome power swelled, she was able to construct a conduit around it to hold it, to shape it into something she could control.
With Logan's unique mind reinforcing her own, she was able to let the beast manifest fully. Logan could feel the power building in her and he felt her confidence grow as she realized she had it within her to control the beast she'd been hiding from for so long. He also realized this was simply the first step. She couldn't make it do anything yet, but for now it was enough for her to know she no longer had to hide from it. It was controllable. She could let it out without the danger that it would consume her or scorch her mental pathways - as long as her mind was properly prepared first. Jean shivered as the beast woke to full consciousness for the first time.
Joined as they were, Logan felt it too. A wave of her raw power rippled through him and he felt the Wolverine begin to rise within him as he responded to the primal female force. Logan shunted him aside, aware his presence would upset the delicate balance Jean had created within her, and he frowned slightly as he became aware of something else. She was still hiding from it. Still refusing to give it the respect it deserved. Still refusing to acknowledge her by name.
{She has a name. You dishonor her when you don't use it.}
He felt her mental nod acknowledging his words, and he slowly began withdrawing himself from her mind until she alone held the Phoenix. He felt her elation and then a spike of fear as the matrix she'd constructed to contain it began to crumble.
{Focus.}
He gave no other assistance and was pleased when she let go of her fear and her mind was once again clear enough to maintain control. He knew the power she was feeling was heady, but she possessed only fledgling abilities. If she held it too long it would get away from her.
{Let her go, Jean.}
The command was soft, but direct, and she did as she was told, painstakingly deconstructing the matrix she'd built, layer by layer, until everything within her was again at peace. The Phoenix receded back inside Jean, taking her awesome power with her as the kata came to an end and they bowed to each other. She bowed again as he left the mat, signifying both an end to the exercise and an end to his status as teacher. Jean straightened as if she was coming out of a trance. She was drenched in sweat, but oddly enough not the least bit tired. Jean's eyes widened when she realized by all rights she should be exhausted, but she wasn't because of the nearly limitless power she'd been able to tap as the Phoenix rose within her.
Her body tingled with residual power and despite the heat from her exertions, it raised goose flesh on her skin. The wild rush made her nipples peak and her blood run hot. She felt so powerful, so wild, so invulnerable. God, did Logan feel like this all the time?
He grinned at her. {Pretty much, darlin'.}
{No wonder you're such an arrogant bastard.} She flashed him a naughty grin.
He chuckled aloud as he walked over to the bench and removed the top of his gi, baring his powerful chest to her hungry gaze. He felt her eyes on him, scalding a path over his sweaty flesh and he smiled at the change in her scent. {Maybe so, darlin'.} His nostrils flared again. {But don't forget the part about how wet the 'arrogant bastard' makes ya every time you think about fuckin' him.}
Laughing inwardly at her mental outrage, he carefully folded his top with practiced precision and set it gently on the bench before returning to the center of the mat. Jean understood the significance. He was no longer her teacher. Now he was simply a man. A very dangerous man. Suddenly, sharing this sparring mat didn't seem as safe as it had a minute ago. There was no strict code of honor governing his behavior now and nothing was beneath the Wolverine when he decided he wanted something.
Or someone.
Normally she would have backed down by now, but she was still riding the intense high the lingering power left in her. {This coming from a man who has an erection nearly every time he's around me?}
He shot her a wicked grin. {Ain't no 'nearly' about it, darlin'.}
She was unable to keep her eyes from dropping to the front of his pants. He caught the brief glance and growled at her when he realized she'd just licked her lips with the unconscious desire to taste him. {Do that again and you'll wind up flat on your back.}
Anger flooded her. He always cut to the chase so quickly. She knew he'd never romance her the way Scott had, but it was infuriating to be reminded so graphically that all he wanted from her was sex. His words rankled. Not because of their crude nature, but because of how strongly she responded to them. There was a considerable amount of heat in her mental voice when she snapped back at him. {Is that a threat?}
{Consider it a promise, Red.}
His cocky attitude grated on her. {Dammit, Logan! You make me so mad I could just-}
{Just what? Push the doctor in ya aside long enough to let the woman take a real crack at me?}
{YES!}
Now they were getting somewhere.
"So fight me." He deliberately spoke the words aloud.
"What? Here?" He nodded. "You want me to spar with you?"
"No, I wantcha to fight me."
"There's a difference?" She knew there was, but she wanted to hear him say it. Needed to hear him verbally sanction what was about to happen. She had no illusions. This wasn't going to be pretty.
"There sure as fuck is." In sparring people didn't bleed.
This had been building between them a long time. Too long. They were both spoiling for a fight. This was about more than anger or frustration, about more than giving in to the desire to put their hands on each other. This was about dominance, pure and simple.
With the power still thrumming in her, it was also the perfect opportunity for Logan to push Jean into revealing her true nature. In truth, he wanted to push her right over the edge. He wanted her to snap, to lash out at him with her 'gifts'. To finally understand she had it within her to become the most powerful fighter they had. The fact that he was sexually attracted to that hidden side of her also played a part in his desire to unmask the true Jean. In truth, he wanted to rip off her mask as much for himself as he did for the team. It was that Jean that excited him. That Jean that made his blood burn and roused the animal inside him, and it was that Jean he wanted to dominate. Submission from her would be a sweet thing indeed.
{Rules?} A feral light glittered in her eyes as she waited for his answer.
{No claws.} He didn't want her dead. He just wanted her to yield to him, to acknowledge his dominance. And he wasn't at all sure if he let them out, he'd be able to control the desire to use everything at his disposal to force her into submission.
She nodded. {And I won't hold you immobile with my mind.} There was no sport in that. It was simply a way to delay the inevitable. Besides, she wanted him to yield to her fair and square.
{Fair enough. No claws and no stallin' by freezin' me.} He grinned dangerously at her. {But anythin' else goes.} She nodded again and he smiled inwardly. 'Anything' covered a hell of a lot of ground. A whole hell of a lot.
She met his hungry gaze unflinchingly. {I'm going to enjoy this, you know.} Her mental voice taunted him. After all, 'anything' worked both ways.
He licked his lips in anticipation. {Good to know, darlin', 'cause I'm gonna enjoy the hell outta it.}
Suddenly aware of another pair of eyes on him, Logan shifted his gaze from Jean and found Scott watching them from the observation room. Jean's back was to Scott so she didn't see him, but something in both his demeanor and scent told Logan that he'd planned it that way. He'd already settled things with her.
This was between them.
Scott crossed his arms over his chest. He knew what Logan was going to do. He knew the fight that was about to happen wasn't just about clearing the air between them. The war was coming and they needed every fighter to be as ready as possible - and as lethal as possible. He knew Logan would use this fight with Jean to resolve both their sexual tension and their rivalry for dominance, but he also knew Logan planned to push Jean to develop her fighting abilities in a way he couldn't and shouldn't. Logan was the only one among them who had a chance of surviving if Jean snapped and turned the full force of her 'gifts' on him. Scott knew what was going to happen and how this fight would eventually end. Or rather what could - and most likely would -happen when this fight was over. Assuming, of course, they were both still physically capable at that point.
Scott met Logan's eyes and nodded once before he disappeared from the window and the room went dark. Logan knew the gesture for what it was - an acknowledgement of the shift in their pack's dynamic, and an acquiescence of his position as the alpha female's mate.
It wasn't a blessing. It wasn't meant to be. It was simply time. Scott knew it. Logan knew it. His eyes raked hotly over Jean. And soon, very soon, he was going to make damn sure Jean knew it too.