Playoff Season Title: Playoff Season Author: Terri E-mail: xgrrl26@yahoo.com Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. Poo. Archive: WRFA, Dolphin Haven, Peep Hut  anyone else, please ask and I'll happily provide :) Feedback: Please? With a first round win for Chicago on top? Good, bad, and ugly welcome. Summary: Eavesdropping runs rampant at the mansion, Logan uses Hockey to explain his feelings for Rogue, and Sir Mix-A-Lot's ode to the female posterior makes an appearance. Comments: This is a pretty wacky one, and not to be taken seriously. I've been in Minnesota for work most of this week, which is usually tiring, but this particular week I've got the triple-whammy of working on the road, a crisis with a close friend (which may mean that her kids will be coming to stay with me for a while), and the general panic, rush of activity, and dread of commitment and massive debt that comes along with the closing on my house next week. Yes, there's nothing like borrowing massive amounts of $$ to test your commitment-o-meter ;) Anyhow, I was watching music videos late last night and saw the Sir Mix A Lot classic referred to in this fic, and it just struck me funny. I was so far beyond exhausted that I had to produce something extremely wacky or horribly angsty in response. Since I might be in for more than enough RL angst with my friend, I went with wacky for my fic :) --------------------------------------------------------- "So what have you got planned for tonight? Logan?" Uh, right. She's talkin' to me. Stop starin' at the cleavage, stop thinkin' bout those big, full lips all over you, readjust pants. "Nothin'. Or, uh, hockey. I mean, I'll be doin' hockey tonight." Why is it that I always turn into a jibberin' idiot in fronta her? It's like as soon as I catch her scent, my talkin' brain shuts down. "You mean watching, not playing, right?" God, that mouth could do all kindsa wicked things. "Logan?" Oh, shit, she's talkin' to me again. Dammit, gotta pay more attention to that. "Are you OK? You seem  you seem kind of distracted tonight." "Yeah, I'm fine, kid. No worries." 'Course, I'd be a lot better if you'd just come over here and  "Are you sure? Are you  are you upset about the wedding or something? You can talk to me about it, you know. I won't freak out." "Huh?" "You know  Jean, the wedding. The event you dressed nicely for but brooded all through nonetheless." "Oh, yeah." I still gotta get Scooter back for that one  puttin' Marie with Remy in the weddin' party. He knew that'd get my goat. "I mean  uh, no. No. I ain't upset 'bout the weddin'." I ain't upset, I'm just gonna kill Scooter, that's all. Nope, not a bit upset. "You know, there's  there's lots of other fish in the sea." Sea. Water. Wet. Marie wet. Marie, maybe takin' a shower, all nice and naked, all that pale skin just covered in lather  "Jean's not the only woman in the mansion, you know." "Yeah." I did notice that, darlin'. Marie plus leather pants equals 'hell yeah, I definitely noticed that.' God, why does she hafta always look so good in leather? And why does she wear those pants so often? "You could, like, you know, date any of the available women. Any of the single, attractive, nice women. Any of those would do." But none of 'em wear leather like you do baby. None of 'em have your hot, sexy mouth or your big brown eyes or your nice, round, full ass that any cow wouldn't mind givin' up its hide to have the privilege of encasin'. None of 'em have your laugh, your pout, your fire. None of 'em move me like you do. "Do you, um, have any ideas in particular?" Oh yeah, she's talkin' to me again. Focus, Logan. "Ideas? Well, I got one or two." You, laid out on my bed without a stitch, not even those leather pants; you, laughin' when I tickle ya; you, eatin' offa my chest, lickin' me all over as you go; you, smilin' up at me; you, waddlin' along, pregnant with my babies; you, in love with me. "Actually, I got a lotta ideas." "Oh." Fuck, that was wrong somehow 'cause her scent changed. And she's gettin' that shy look, the one that makes me simultaneously wanna hug her and screw the livin' daylights outta her. And she's not lookin' at me anymore. "Did I say somethin' wrong?" "No, no. I guess I was just  never mind. I've got to stop being so  uh, never mind." I hate it when she does this, when she hides things. She don't do it too damn often, but when she does, I just hate it. "Look, I can tell I said somethin' wrong, just tell me what it is." "It's stupid." I don't care if it is, just tell me before I go nuts here. "Tell me, Marie." "I  I was kind of hinting that you know, you might want to pick one woman, someone in particular, but if you wanted to play the field.." "I'm not followin' ya." Unless we're talkin' 'bout Field Marie, I ain't interested in playin' on it. "You said you had lots of ideas. Lots of women. Playing the field. It's OK, really, I don't know why I overreacted. I mean, I'm not in charge of your love life. You can do whatever you want. Forget I said anything. Just  just forget all about it, OK? You were off to watch hockey, right? The game should be coming on now. I won't keep you." "Hey." Catchin' her by the arm kinda kills two birds with one stone  I gotta stop her before she runs off havin' the wrong idea and I gotta touch her somewhere, right now. "I didn't mean it that way. I got someone in mind. One person in particular. I got a lot of ideas 'bout what I'd like to do with her. I just  I dunno if she could really, you know, fall in love with me. I ain't sure that I'm what she needs, that I'm enough." "Of course you are." Oh my God, look at her. Right now, this moment  right now she's the most beautiful I've ever seen her. Look at how she's lookin' at me. "Of course they'd fall in love with you, how could they not?" Whoa. I think she caught herself a little, caught that things were gettin' intense. There's a hint of a smile on those luscious lips now. "You're  you're pretty amazing. And women are smart. They'll  any one of them will figure that out pretty quickly. Whoever you're thinking of  she'll just melt in a puddle at your feet, sugar. I can't think of anyone who wouldn't see how amazing you are. Now, go on  don't let me make you late for the game." "Come and watch with me." "No, I  I think I should just head upstairs. I've got some painting to do. You go on." Dammit, there she goes. Slid right outta my grip and she's gone. She really  she don't have a clue, does she? How can she not know? I mean, I've never been accused of bein' understated or delicate 'bout these things. Don't she see the looks, the really long, lingerin' looks at parts of her body that nobody but me had better ever even glance at? Don't she remember all those times I laid down my life for her? Don't she understand what it means that I'm always with her, always around her? Damn. I gotta figure somethin' out here. "Maybe it's Betsy. I caught Mr. Summers checking her out and she seems like Logan's type too. She wears hardly any clothes." "Kitty, I don't  " "Ooooh  maybe it's still Jean but he's trying to think of ways to steal her out from under Mr. Bummers." "Don't call him that, Jubes." "Chica, he's *boring*. Ultra boring. Super boring. Boredom concentrate. He's bo-ring. Boring with a capital 'b'. Boring with a snooze cherry on top. Boring with a double dose of Sominex. Boring with  " "I get it, I get it. Can we just talk about something else?" "But Logan's next potential bone-ee is the most interesting topic." "You've really got to learn not to eavesdrop in the kitchen." "Heh  no way. You hear all the best gossip there." "Could you at least not eavesdrop on me when I'm talking to someone in the kitchen?" "I know who it is!" "Who, Kit?" "It's got to be Ms. Frost. Think about it  she's pretty, she has a good body, and she always wears those bustiers and thigh-high boots." "Hmph." "Oh don't lose heart, Roguey, I don't think it's the Emmster. She's definitely a top and I can't see Logan being a bottom." "What?" "Kit-Kat, I love ya, but you've gotta get out more. At least surf the net for porn or something." "Kitty, do you really think it's Emma?" "No, I really think it's you. Which is what I told you in the first place, but you totally shot me down. If it's not you, I don't really know who it is." "Hmph." "Chica, are you sure it's *not* you? I mean, are you absolutely positively sure?" "No. But I'm pretty sure that's just wishful thinking on my part." "Yeah, or the fact that his eyes have been glued to your ass all night." "Jubes!" "What? They were! I swear to God, you've got a Logan eyeball magnet implanted in there. Baby's got back!" "Jubes" "His anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hon!" "Jubes!" "Yeah, yeah. Look, I say  you go down there and park yourself next to Mr. Sex Machine. Park yourself next to him and just see what happens. Is there any way you can sit ass-up?" "No!" "OK, OK, don't strain yourself trying to figure that one out. He looks at your boobs too. Just unbutton a few more buttons, and you're golden." "I don't want him to get with me because of the boobs. Or the ass. I want him to  I want him to, you know, really care about me." "You've got that covered. Trust us. He risked his life for you, repeatedly. He loves you. You just have to make him see that you're, you know, a mature and adult and sexually desirable woman. And not a controlling, not-worth-the-trouble ice-queen." "Ahem. I believe those are your issues, Kit." "Well, most of them apply to you and Mr. Tall, Dark, and Buff. I'm with Jubes. I say  go watch hockey with him and see if he makes a move. If he doesn't, ask him who he's got in mind for his next meaningless tawdry affair." "Kit, that's not fair  he doesn't  he hasn't  as far as we know he hasn't had any affairs of any kind." "So that means he's totally ready for one with you." "Jubes  " "A meaningful one. A nice, sweet, caring, meaningful, hot, sweaty, kinky  " "Jubes." "Ahem. In closing, to sum up  go watch hockey. It couldn't hurt and it might get you some hot monkey lovin'." "Yeah." "Yeah?" "Yeah." "All right then.." "Don't forget to unbutton!" Heh. That little firecracker ain't the only one who knows where to eavesdrop. Better get my ass back down to the den. "Hey." "Hey." So far, so good. She's sittin' beside me, just like the terrible twosome told her to. And she unbuttoned. Heh. Well, I'm just gonna get right to it, then. I'll start off subtle. "Glad you came down." "Yeah?" The way she said that, all surprised  she don't have a clue, she really don't. Well, that's OK. I still got two periods and maybe overtime to let her in on how things really are. "Yeah." And here comes clue number one. Just gonna put my arm around her and snuggle her sweet, leather-clad butt next to mine. "Get comfy. It's gonna be good one." "Um, OK." God, she smells good. And she's all warm, and soft and did I mention good-smellin'? "Who's who's, uh, winning?" Heh. Havin' a little trouble with the talkin' brain, darlin'? If I knew all I needed to do to put us on equal footin' there was to put my arm around ya, I woulda done it a helluva long time ago. "Scoreless. But it won't be that way for long. We're in for some action, that's for sure." Clue two, darlin'. "I didn't know the Blackhawks made the playoffs this year. They haven't been in for a while." "Yeah, it's been a helluva long time. But I got a feelin' that draught's about over." Clue three. "Chicago, they've got a real chance. They're strong, quick, they defend their own zone like hell and they're totally committed. They want it bad, real bad. St. Louis  hell, they're the perennial playoff first-round losers. All they got is good looks, a little charm, and a stupid fake French accent." "French accent? Do they have a lot of French Canadian players or something?" OK, she's not catchin' on to my 'me, Chicago; Remy, St. Louis' hockey allegory. Probably too subtle there or somethin'. "Uh, kinda. But what I'm tryin' to say is  Chicago, that's a blood and guts team. Not afraid to sacrifice the body to get the job done, not afraid to do the hard checkin' or muck it up in the corners to make sure they protect the puck. St. Louis  now, they're all flash, no meat. Yeah, they might look good on the ice, but they got no heart. When the shit hits the fan, they're not up to it." "Oh." Dammit, still too subtle, or somethin'. "You know, I always thought they had some good players. And I've always liked Al McInnis. I mean, you have to respect a slap shot like that." "No, no ya don't, Marie. Ya don't respect 'em, ya don't like 'em, and you sure as hell shouldn't be anywhere near them in a strapless gown." I bet that jerk don't think I caught how he was lookin' at Marie's bare shoulders. I caught it. I caught it and I hadta be physically restrained by Jeannie's powers from takin' a claw to his ass when I did. 'Don't ruin my reception, Logan.' 'Remy's just looking, Logan.' Yeah, yeah. Shoulda clawed him. Those shoulders are mine. Especially when they're naked. Mine. "Um, did I miss something?" "Huh?" "What do, uh, strapless gowns have to do with hockey?" Shit. She's not catchin' on at all. She must think I'm nuts. "Logan?" "Nothin'. They don't have nothin' to do with hockey." "Um, OK, but you said that I  " "What I meant to say is that any parts of you naked should be closest to me, not Remy." "Uh" "You're the one I've been havin' ideas 'bout, Marie, OK? And not just because of your boobs or ass or anythin' like that. But, uh, don't go gettin' an ass-reduction or somethin' anytime soon, OK?" "Ass-reduction? Logan, I  " "I tried to be subtle with the hockey thing. But it ain't workin'. Look, you were right. I was upset at the weddin'. I was upset at the weddin', but it was 'cause of you spendin' the whole time with Remy. I was upset at the weddin', 'cause you looked so damn beautiful, I started to think that you were way too beautiful, too good for someone like me. I was upset at the weddin', Marie, 'cause it wasn't our weddin', 'cause we weren't even together there. You're the one I wanna be with, the one I wanna have fall in love with me. Got it?" Oh-oh. She's not sayin' anythin'. Maybe all that stuff she said before about me bein' amazin' was just to make me feel better or somethin'. Maybe she just meant to cheer me up and  "Oh my God, you were listening outside my door, weren't you?" Busted. Might as well fess up. "Yeah. You left all weird and I could tell you didn't get what I was tryin' to say, that it was you I wanted." "I thought I smelled you." "You can, ah, smell me?" "Mmm-hmm. I've still got enough of your senses for that leftover. Other people I can't really smell unless they're up close, but you." Holy hell, that does somethin' to me. Knowin' she can track my scent OK, OK, keep it together, Logan. Think of somethin' good to say. Use the brain. Readjust pants. "I only did it 'cause I wanted to know what you were thinkin' and I'm not sorry I did 'cause it's about time I toldya. If what you said before about women bein' smart and fallin' for me applies to you, then, ah, let's get together." "Really? I mean  really? You really want to date?" "No." What's she gettin' so freaked about? Oh. Right. "I mean  no datin'. I'm not good at that and I don't like movies and dinners. Well, I do like dinners, but not in some pansy-ass restaurant where they give you a list with wines you can't pronounce on it. Maybe someplace where they give you a beer list, and lotsa raw steak. We could go there. But I don't think I'm cut out for datin' generally. Plus, you know, datin', it's kinda this experiment, to see if you really wanna be with this one or that one. Me, I always thought my gut would tell me right off, and it was that way with you." OK, sayin' somethin' would be good here, Marie. Somethin'. Anythin'. Anythin' at all. "So, you don't want to date me because  because you're sure you want to  to be with me." "Yeah." "Really?" "Yeah." What is it with the 'really's? Wait  maybe she wantsta date 'cause she ain't too damn sure. Hell, that's probably it. She probably needsta take some time and make sure she wantsta hook herself up with me. Sure, I'm the guy who saved her life and all, but that don't necessarily make me  "Do you want to move in together or something then? Is that  is that what you were thinking?" Me and Marie livin' together. Same room, same bed, same life. God, the whole place would smell like her pretty soon. No  scratch that, it would smell like us, like both of us. "Logan?" Right. Stop daydreamin'. Start listenin' to Marie. Say somethin' back. Make mental note to get looser pants. "That good. Uh, that'd be good." Yep, the talkin' brain has left the buildin'. "OK." Nice smile on those big lips right now. Real nice. "So, um, are you really rooting for Chicago then or St. Louis?" "Marie, movin' in  that's  that's what you wanna do, that's what you're sayin' 'OK' to?" I gotta make sure before I get too excited here. "Mmm-hmm. I couldn't think of a hockey analogy to use, so I just went with 'OK.'" Tease. Flirt. "Hey!" "You know, Jubes was right, you do 'got back.' I can't help pinchin' it, it's right there, in leather yet." What was the rest of that song? Yeah  that thing about my anaconda. Heh. "Like the leather pants, do you?" Definitely flirtin'. Definitely. "I'm sure I'd like you without 'em much better." Big blush there. But  whoa. Gotta remember that she's still pretty young, pretty inexperienced. Gotta remember not to push her too much or take things too fast. Gotta stop lookin' at the blush. "But we can take our time. Once you move in, we can figure out how much, uh, playin' time we wanna start out with and when you wanna make a move on goal, you let me know." "I think I'm catching on to this hockey thing." Still flirtin'. Well, that's a good start. We're off to a damn good start, actually. "Glad you like it, darlin'. Plenty more of playoff season ahead, you know." And plenty of time to get things goin' with Marie.