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It was hot outside and Logan could barely resist the urge to scratch his ass.

"Normal," Rogue hissed under her breath while maintaining her glowing smile, knowing full well Logan could hear her. "We are supposed to be *normal* humans going on their honeymoon."

"You made me cut my hair," he gritted out around a toothy grin. "I look like a fuckin' pansy."

"The eighteen hundreds called, they wanted their hair back," she snarled without ever breaking her cheerful facade. She pinched his backside for emphasis.

His hand tightened warningly on her waist.

"*I* had to dye my hair. And furthermore," she whispered, "We only got stuck with this detail after *you* broke Scott's nose, thereby forcing *us* to take Scott and Jean's place."

"If you blame me for this one more time, so help me God, I will--"

"--You two look so wonderful, so in love," the photographer crooned. "You'll treasure these photos forever...or at least for as long as you stay married."

"I hope he doesn't hold his breath," Rogue muttered.

"Did you have an extra cup of bitch this morning with breakfast?" Logan inquired pleasantly while pulling her further against his chest.

She responded by grinding the heel of her shoe into his foot.

"Ow!" he yelped, pushing her off his foot. "Jesus, fuck, Marie!"

She staggered a little, but caught herself on the railing behind them before she ended up head-first into the grove of palm trees. "So much for being incognito," she sighed, noticing everyone staring at them.

Everyone's eyes were on the pair, but Logan didn't care. "I'm serious, Marie. What the fuck is wrong with you? You've been extra bitchy all day. In fact, you've been extra bitchy since we left home."

"What's wrong with *me*? *You're* the one that did everything short of--"

Rogue's tirade was interrupted by a kindly looking older gentleman. "Children," he said, "Perhaps you shouldn't air your differences in public, hmm?"

"You're absolutely right, sir," Logan said, grabbing Rogue's hand.

She tried to yank it out of his grip, but she wasn't strong enough and soon found herself draped over his shoulder. "GOD DAMN YOU LOGAN, PUT ME DOWN!!!!" she cursed, beating her fists against his lower back.

Logan ignored her shrieking and kicking, and carried her up to their room, which was, appropriately, the honeymoon suite. Unceremoniously, he dumped her on the bed. She came up swinging, and he was unprepared for the small foot that connected with his inner thigh, dangerously close to his groin.

She was faster than he was, and in close quarters, the largest advantage he had over her was sheer size, so he used his adamantium frame to pin her to the mattress, hands held firmly over her head. Her eyes, sparkling with tears, nearly cut him to the core.

"What's goin' on, Marie?" he asked quietly.

"Nothin'," she answered bitterly. "Nothin' at all."

"Bullshit. Start talkin'. You don't freak out in the middle of a mission for no reason."

"You all but begged the Professor to send 'Ro with you instead of me. I know she's...well, 'Ro, but I thought that you'd at least want to spend a little time with me while you were home."

Tears slid from the corners of her eyes. "I know I'm not like her, not pretty like her, but I thought... Never mind what I thought. This is stupid. Let me up." She struggled against him, trying to free her hands.

"For Christ's sake, Marie, I wanted 'Ro to come because I could pretend with her! I could play this stupid lovey dovey shit up, and it wouldn't mean anything when the mission was over."

Rogue stopped her assault on him. "What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

He dropped his head into her shoulder, and heaved a huge sigh.


"Mree," he mumbled into her dress.

She shrugged her shoulder, jostling his face. "Answer me!"

"It's different with you," he said simply, raising his head and looking her in the eyes. "It feels wrong."

Her sudden pallor and rigid muscles indicated that she had taken his words the wrong way.

"Marie, I didn't--"

Rogue had put up a token protest when he had hauled her to their room, but this time, she fought like a cornered animal. She had little use for her skills while Logan was around, and she rarely pitted herself against him. This time, she used his rapidly loosening grip against him, sliding a knee between them and shoving it upwards. She knew she was in the right spot when all the air whooshed from his lungs and he curled in on himself. She used the distraction to lever his body off of hers, needing every second of the time his healing factor required to allow him to move again.

Her feet hit the floor and she launched herself away from the bed, desperate to get away from him, away from the words that had just come from his mouth. A few giant steps had her at the door, and she twisted the knob, wrenching the door open. Before she could leave, an arm snaked around her waist, pulling her backwards into the room. Her struggles sent them both to the floor.

"Marie. Listen to me," he panted, wrestling her to her stomach. "Listen to me, goddamnit!"

"Fuck you, Logan," she said quietly, all the fight gone from her body.

He dropped his forehead against the back of hers. It was easier to say this to her back, without having to look into eyes which were undoubtedly spitting hate at the moment. "I wanted 'Ro to come because she's my friend. I don't want her to be anything but my friend. So it wouldn't matter to me if we had to play at being married."

"I'm not your friend?"

"You're more than my friend, Marie. I think you know that."

A few heartbeats passed, then, so quietly he could barely hear it, she whispered, "What is that supposed to mean, Logan?"

"It means that I feel more for you than that. I-I think I always have."

She shifted in his grasp, and he let up slightly to allow her to face him. Her eyes were wet, but the hate was gone, replaced with a quiet wonder. "What are you telling me?" She had waited years for this moment, and there was no way he was going to get away without full disclosure.

He dropped his head down until he was almost touching her mouth with his. "I love you, Marie."

She smiled for real that time.