Scott barely glanced up when Logan dropped on the bench beside him. Not that Logan had exactly been expecting open arms or anything. He knew better. The breeze stirred around them, and Logan breathed deeply, inhaled the fresh scent of mowed grass, newly cut roses, faint smell of lilacs and carnations. Good, clean smells, speaking of spring and rebirth and growth. So out of place here in a cemetery with an empty grave, and a cold marble tombstone that said far too little. "When'd you get back?" Scott finally asked, high cheekbones thrown into sharp relief by pale, stretched skin. His neatly pressed shirt practically swallowed his frame. Not a good sign. "I'm not back," Logan replied, shifted his leg, brushing it quickly against Scott's. Scott didn't even flinch. This was much worse than Logan had thought. "Just passing through, thought I'd pop in, say hi to the professor." "I'm not the professor." "No, you're not," Logan said easily, even though his mind was racing. Three months since he'd taken off for parts unknown, leaving the X-Men and the school and memories of her behind. Three months since he'd left Scott, sitting right here. It was like he'd never left, and maybe he hadn't. Not in any way that mattered. "Out with it, Logan, I can hear the wheels spinning in your head from here." Wind ruffled Scott's hair, sunlight turning it into a molten bronze. The ever-present sunglasses were wrapped around his face, shielding Scott from close scrutiny, acting as a shield for more than just his eyes. Logan remembered seeing them once -- seemed like a lifetime ago -- and the unharnessed power had terrified and awed him more than just about any damn thing except the professor's mental abilities. "Don't you think --" Logan shifted uncomfortably, stared down at the headstone, tapping a steady beat along a jeans-clad thigh. "She wouldn't want this," he finally said. "And I suppose you're the expert now." Logan heard the bitterness and welcomed it; bitterness he could handle. He was the fucking expert on it, after all. It was the grief -- like acid, poisoning everything -- that had him shifting closer, taking the risk he'd run from three months before. "I didn't know her as well as you did, but I knew her. And I loved her. She's the reason I stuck around and became part of the group. She's the reason I'll keep coming back. May not make me an expert, but it has to count for something." Scott nodded and tilted his chin up, looking out over the acres of headstones and flowers. Of lives cut short by tragedy and accident. "You say it, and I think you might even mean it. But you didn't." "Didn't what?" "Love her." Scott turned, sunglasses facing Logan, and the reflecting, eternal black of them seemed to pierce just as accurately as a full gaze. "You may have loved the idea of her, but love isn't an idea. It's work and compromise and sticking around and sacrifice. What did you ever sacrifice for her?" Each word hammered uncomfortably in Logan's head, reminded him of the last private conversation he and Jean'd had. Bad guys don't stick around. I married a good guy. Of a kiss that had lasted a lifetime, and not long enough. The feel of her in his arms -- strong and beautiful, fluid grace as he'd held her tight. The bitter taste of ash in his mouth as she'd walked away. "Maybe the idea of her was enough," he softly replied. "Maybe for you." Scott's hand sought, found Logan's, and squeezed quickly. "But letting go of reality is different." "So share it with me. Share her, and maybe we can both move on." Another squeeze. "I wouldn't give her to you then. I won't give her to you now." "Fair enough." With a quick move, Logan buried his hand in Scott's hair and dragged him forward for a quick, sharp kiss. Tasted surprise underlain with a faint hint of spice. "Then I'll take what I can get," he rasped, breath hot against Scott's lips. "You don't give up, do you?" And Logan was pleased to note that Scott's voice sounded ragged. "No," Logan murmured. "I don't." "I still won't share her with you," Scott murmured back. His lips brushed over Logan's. A dare, a challenge. Logan knew well enough to take it.
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