Little Things

Title: Little Things
Author: Terri
Rating: PG-13
Archive: Dolphin Haven, Agony and Ecstasy, Peep Hut -
anyone else, please ask :)
Disclaimer: I don’t own them. Poo.
Feedback: Please? With some kudos to my very
inspirational boyfriend unit (tm Heather) on top?
Good, bad, and ugly welcome………
Comments: Yep, it’s been a while, but this little
fooflet should get me back in the swing of things……


You know, it’s the little things. Men - heck, people
in general - they don’t really realize this. It’s not
the times you come through for us big (although
they’re much appreciated - the life-saving ones
especially), it’s the times you do the little things,
the things you don’t *have* to do, the things that
aren’t life and death, that really bonds us to you.

Take Logan, for example - wonderful man, excellent
lover, all-around fabulousness personified. I know
for a fact that part of him is convinced that I’m with
him because of the life-save-age and the big dramatic
things he’s done for me. And there’s some truth to
that - I can’t say that those things didn’t make an
impression, and, sure, if he hadn’t saved my life, I
wouldn’t *be* here to be with him. But when I think
about the times I’ve felt sheer joy and love in my
heart for him, it’s always the little things that I

Like this time we were out picking up a new student
for the school - we’d been on the road forever, or at
least it seemed like it, and we’d spent a miserable
day trudging around Boston in the rain. Now, that may
not sound so tragic, but you have to understand that
for someone with Logan’s acute senses, downtown Boston
is pretty much over-stimulatory hell. And on top of
that, he has this whole thing about being wet - I
swear sometimes that he’s closer to being a cat than
the lone wolf everyone thinks of him as. But when we
finally got out of the rain and came back to the
dingy, cramped, noisy hotel, he took my thoroughly
drenched skirt from me, hung it up neatly, and then
grunted at me to get in the shower first. I know he
had to be just itching (maybe even literally) to get
the city’s grime off of his skin, but he let me go
first and he hung up my skirt to dry. He didn’t have
to do those things, and in fact, if he had asked me to
hang up his clothes and raced for the shower as soon
as he opened the door, I wouldn’t have had a single
bad thought about it. I knew he was overloaded and
uncomfortable, and in a way more intense than I could
ever really understand. But he didn’t do that.
Before he took care of himself, he took care of me.

There’s a lot of things like that, actually. One time
he listened to me complain about Jubes for nearly an
hour. No interruptions, no trying to change the
subject, just a solid hour of why Jubes’ annoying
behaviors were on my last nerve. I am fairly sure
that this is not his favorite topic of conversation,
but he listened - actually listened - until I was
tired of talking about it.

And once, he changed the oil in my jeep without me
asking him to do it - he just kept track of when it
had hit another 3000 miles and did it. He’s made me
dinner several times - he actually cooked food himself
and brought it to me - when I’ve been lost in working
on a painting. Speaking of painting - he’s even gone
out and bought me new brushes, remembering to buy
exactly the kind I liked. He does these things
without making a big show of it, and usually just
grunts when I try to thank him, so I don’t think he
realizes how much it means to me, but it’s those
things I think about when I think about loving Logan.

The biggest ‘little thing’ he’s done so far, though
has been teaching me how to take care of myself and
encouraging me to do that. It all started when I was
still dating Bobby, way back when, and when Bobby -
well, he wasn’t so much being a jerk as he was being a
typical horny teenage boy. He wanted things I wasn’t
exactly sure I was ready for and things I was even
less sure we’d both *survive*. But I felt like Bobby
might be the only boy to ever like me, and I didn’t
want to lose that, so I was considering doing some or
all of those things anyway.

Well, I happened to come across Logan one night when
we were both out walking on the grounds. He was still
mourning heavily for Jean, but he noticed that I was
troubled too and made me talk about it. After I
convinced him not to skin Bobby alive, he actually
gave me some very good advice about dealing with the
opposite sex. But it was one thing he said that
really made the difference to me, that really made me
re-think more than my relationship with Bobby; it made
me begin to re-think myself. He told me that I
deserved to have what I wanted, and that I didn’t have
to settle for treatment that I didn’t like just to get
some love and happiness in return. It was partly
those words - and he said them in a more Logan-y kind
of vocabulary at the time - and partly the way he said
it. It came out like it was just a simple statement
of fact, like someone would say that two plus two
equals four. It was that plain and obvious to him.

I didn’t wind up sleeping with Bobby. I broke up with
him instead, and I think to this day that Bobby is
pissed off at Logan for that. But it was the right
thing, and it was an important thing for me to do, for
myself. I’ll always be grateful to Logan for finding
a way out of his own pain over Jean to give me the
right words at the right time.

Of course, when Jean came back from the dead as the
Phoenix, I don’t think Logan even noticed me for the
first few months. It hurt at the time - it hurt
deeply. I won’t lie and say that just because he’s
with me now that I’ve completely forgotten how it felt
to see him with Jean and know that he loved her. I
still have moments, sometimes, when I worry that this
life I have with him is all some very pleasant
hallucination and that any moment now I’ll come to my
senses and see them all over one another, happy
together once again. But mostly, I keep that
nightmare at bay. Mostly.

Anyway - Logan forgot I existed for a while, but after
a few months, something happened. His attention
started to shift away from Jean - he’d even started
taking measures to avoid being in her company at
times. It puzzled me, but I frankly didn’t want to
deal with it. I was hurting, and there was no way
that I’d get through any kind of conversation with
Logan without saying something I’d regret or crying or
possibly both, so his distance from Jean remained a
mystery. To this day, I don’t know the details of
what happened - all I know is that they fought, and
that she said something to hurt him, something that
apparently couldn’t be fixed. Of course, that’s not
what he offered as an explanation when we finally did
talk about it - all he’s told me is that they fought -
but I can read the rest on him.

After the Jean thing was over, he started hanging out
with me again, or trying to. I was pretty cautious
and pretty distant at first. It still stung that he’d
fallen so hard for Jean and that he’d so completely
ignored me, and I wasn’t real eager to get burned
again. Oddly enough, though, Logan seemed to really
get that and even seemed to encourage me *not* to
spend time with him if I didn’t want to or felt
uncomfortable. Oh, don’t get me wrong - he kept on
asking me to do things, finding me when I was alone in
the den or out walking, trying to arrange it so that
he’d be in the same vicinity as me different times
during the day. But if I walked off or made some
excuse, he let me go, and he even seemed a little bit
proud of me for doing it.

I’ve thought about it a lot, and the best theory I can
come up with is that I think he wanted me to protect
myself first, even more than he wanted me to give him
a chance at getting close to me again. It still
pretty much blows me away to think about that - and it
says a lot about how much Logan really does put me
first. This one, it’s not a little thing, it’s
definitely a big thing.

Even so, it took me some time to feel like I could
open up to him even a little bit. Months, in fact.
But all that time, he never stopped trying, and so I
kept trying too. Eventually, we decided to start
dating. Yes, we decided to go on an actual date.

Which was weird - I mean, he and I - we’ve known each
other for a long time, we’ve gone out together to
dinner or to movies, we live under the same roof,
technically speaking - and dating just seemed odd
somehow. But Logan thought it was a good idea, so I
agreed to it. We’d planned to go to dinner together,
at a steak house we both liked.

I say ‘planned’ because we never actually made it to
dinner that night. He showed up at my door, just back
from a bike ride. That kind of worried me because I
knew he took the bike out when he wanted to think. I
asked if everything was OK, but all he said was that
he was sorry he was running late. We stood there
staring at each other for a second and then he held up
a fistful of nice clothes saying that he could change
really fast if I didn’t mind him ducking into my
bathroom and that we’d still be on time for the
reservation. I think I stammered out ‘OK’ - I mean,
yes, he wasn’t exactly dressed for an evening of fine
dining, but he looked damn *good* and I just couldn’t
stop staring at him. He was in a black leather jacket
and jeans, his hair was all wild from the ride, and he
hadn’t shaved that day, so he had that seriously sexy
stubble he gets - really, who wouldn’t be a little
breathless at that sight?

He was in the bathroom for quite a while - I heard
water running but not the shower, so I figured that he
was shaving with my Lady Bic and trying to tame his
hair with whatever he could find in my medicine
cabinet. I snuck out and swiped a beer from the
fridge for him - even though he looked sexy as hell he
was still acting a little fidgety, and the beer might
be a nice gesture. Finally, he opened the door of the
bathroom and looked completely different yet still
quite speech-stealing.

He’d put on this blue shirt and khaki pants - complete
with leather belt and nice shoes - and he’d shaved and
somehow made his hair cooperate with an organized
style. I just started heading toward him while he was
still wrangling his hair a bit, while he was still in
the bathroom. It was like he’d somehow become a Rogue
Magnet, and the pull was irresistible. I don’t
remember exactly what happened next, but I do remember
his eyes locking right onto mine and then his hands
were on my body and his mouth was on mine with these
quick little kisses, ones too fast for my skin to
react to, and he was walking me backwards to the bed
and I was bumping into the wall but I didn’t care.

He just kept touching me and kissing me and *wanting*
me and it was like this wave that came over us both
and before we knew it, we were making love. And that
was it - no dating (although Logan did make a point of
getting me to the steak house later), no big
discussion - just, boom, there we were, lovers. Which
didn’t mean that everything about Jean and everything
about us had been worked out, but it meant that it was
a start, that I knew how he felt about me for sure,
and that I knew that’s how he wanted our relationship
to be, and those were the important things to me. I
wonder sometimes - if he really had just taken me to
dinner that night, would we have ever gotten together?
Maybe it would’ve been better if we’d talked
everything out and meticulously worked our way through
things, but maybe the way he grabbed me and made love
to me said more than all those words ever would’ve.

And that brings me back to Logan pushing me to take
care of myself. He slept in my bed that first night
(and I’ve always kind of thought it was special and
neat that our first time together was in my bed - not
his truck, not some cheap hotel to get away from the
mansion, but in my bed) and slept for nearly a whole
day afterwards. Now, you might think that this was
odd or kind of rude, but I loved having him in my bed
and all I could think was that I was so relieved that
he was comfortable enough with me and trusted me
enough to do that.

But when he woke up, he looked all nervous and finally
blurted out that he wanted me to say or ask whatever I
needed to because he didn’t want me to have any
lingering bad thoughts about him and Jean or about
what we’d just done. He was trying to show me, to
make it easy for me, to do whatever I needed to do to
take care of myself and I was so touched by that - I
don’t think I can find the words to adequately explain
it. And so, while I can’t honestly say I didn’t have
*any* bad thoughts, I told him that the only thing I
wanted to say was that I thought the way he snored was
pretty cute and did he know that he’d had a good,
full-body sweat in his sleep? He grunted out that it
must’ve been a nightmare and I took his hand in mine
and told him to quit trying to pat down his hair if he
wanted to do more stuff with me because I was really
liking how sticky-up it was. Then we made love again,
and again and again.

It was an important thing for me in the beginning, and
still is now - the way he encourages me, the way he
looks out for me, and the way he teaches me to be good
to myself. I try to give all of that back to him, but
the plain truth is that I’m not as good as he is at
figuring out what is needed. Yes, he shows a lot less
than I do when it comes to emotions, and no, I don’t
have his enhanced senses to help me out, but it still
makes me upset that I’m not doing as well with him as
he is with me. He always says I do a good job of
giving him what he needs, but I think that’s just him
wanting to take care of me again.

So I try to at least cover the little things - I send
him a little love letter every day so that when he
opens up his e-mail there’s something other than the
memos from the Professor and Scott that he hates
slogging through, I rub his knuckles after he’s used
the claws, I’ve made a hobby of smuggling in the Cuban
cigars he likes, and every now and then, I jump him
while he’s finishing up in the bathroom, for old
times’ sake. I think he likes those things. So far,
so good, I guess.

“Whatcha doin’ darlin’?”

“Oh, just thinking.”

“’Bout what?”

“You. Like always.” There’s his Minor Eye-Roll of
Disbelief. I wonder if he really does think I’m
kidding. I mean, I actually *do* think about him
pretty much all the time. “Seriously - I was thinking
about you.”

“Darlin’, ain’t much to ponder on there.”

“Sure there is. You’re amazing.”

“Glad you think so.”

“I do.” Still a little disbelief in there, but no
eye-roll. Maybe it’s time to try another little
thing. “Let me show you.”

“You wanna……” No, sweetheart, I don’t want to do
that. Well, not yet.

“Let me show you. Sit down on the couch, sugar.”
Confused, but he’s going with it. “Logan, you’re
amazing. You’re so good to me that it takes my breath
away and makes my heart beat faster when I think about
it. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Hmph. I’m still not really getting
through. I don’t know what else to say, I can’t find
the right words. “Marie? Somethin’ wrong?”

“No……I mean, kind of. I mean - I just suck, don’t I?”


“You’re so good at taking care of me and making me
feel great but I suck at that with you. I can’t find
the right words to tell you so that you really get

“Darlin’, you’re doin’ just fine. You’re doin’ good.
You - ”

“I suck, sugar, I do.” You know, it really is pretty
bad. Here I am, really happy, getting everything I
need from him and more, and I’m not doing as good of a
job at -

“Marie, listen to me, you make me damn happy. No


“Yeah.” I don’t know. I know *he* believes that,

“I’m not going to stop until I figure it out, you

“Figure what out?”

“What you need, what makes you really happy - I mean
really, *really* happy, like ‘everything you’ve ever
wanted’ happy, like - well, happy like you make me
feel.” Whoa. I think that one got through. He
blinked and looked at me really seriously. But wait -
now he’s just staring at me and not talking. I don’t
think he’s breathing either. “Logan?”

“I’d like that.”


“I mean, not that I’m not - not that I don’t - I’m
happy, Marie, really happy, but I kinda like that you
wanna keep figurin’ out that stuff. It’s……good.” Wow.
That’s a lot of emotional stuff for him. That’s a
lot of communication. Maybe I hit on something right,
something good. “I mean, uh, you know, I mean that I
- ”

And maybe that’s all the communication he can handle
at one time. “I know. I think I get it. Hey, let’s
- let’s do the other stuff now. I really want to.”

“Oh yeah?” Yes, I do, sexyflirtingLogan. I do very
much. “Well then, let’s head back to the room, huh?
I like doin’ it in the bed in there.”

Yes, I do too, sugar. It’s a little thing, but I like
it too.


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