A Little Is Enough

by Ascian

Summary: Logan and Kurt discuss the merits of love.

Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Fox and Marvel.

Note: This story will make more sense if you・ve seen X2, and there are some spoilers (for those who wish to remain ・untouched・ before you see the movie).

This is the way it goes: it is a beautiful night, sweet enough to make him try tail-stands, aerial somersaults, Tarzan swings through the forest surrounding the Mansion. And when he grows tired, he knows he is only a thought or two from his new room, now decorated with the memories of his former life, collected from his small home inside the church.

He misses the church, the creak of wood, the ring of bells. Spying on construction workers, who on their lunch breaks, sometimes shuffle prayers through their fingers, speaking to mysteries with their eyes and lips.

He misses living inside the house of God, the bulwark of the Divine. He reminds himself that God is with him・with everyone・no matter where the body resides, and that is a comfort. Still, a strange homesickness. He has always been too sentimental. He misses the circus, too. His friends, in their leaking trailers and dimly lit tents. He misses the spotlight・the thrill, the rush・pounding music and appreciative gasps. Eyes that are only for him.

He remembers living for those moments, when briefly, he felt beautiful, handsome. All those words for desirable.

Arrogance and vanity are sins, he reminds himself, lightly tracing lines set inside his cheek. He thinks of Ororo in that moment, ghost fingers replacing his own. He closes his eyes. Sins? Perhaps. But he remembers her words. She thinks they are beautiful.

He sighs, and begins to make his way back to the Mansion. He moves in clouds of smoke, sometimes on the ground, sometimes propelling off thick branches, dancing through the in-between places like a specter. Perhaps because she is on his mind, her eyes and smile filling the dark spaces in his memories, he suddenly finds himself in a tree, looking into a room where silver hair flashes beneath a brush, rose silk shimmering against lovely skin.

Oh my, he thinks, helpless. Watching her is like being on the high wire for the first time・the initial freefall, back when he did not know he could teleport, and had to trust in nets and human hands. His heart thunders, and he knows・Oh God, he knows・he should leave. Go to his room and stop, stop・but he cannot take his eyes from her, cannot think coherently enough to bounce through space.

Ororo・s eyes are hidden from him, but he is no stranger to sadness, and her shoulders sing with it. Heavy, oppressive. She puts on a strong face for the students, for the adults, but here, alone, grief bends her spine.

Kurt hears thunder, an ominous roll, and Ororo instantly straightens. The night grows quiet with her movement, and Kurt catches his breath. Comprehension fills him, and he cannot help but feel a trace of pity as he watches emotions sidle through Ororo・s back as she tries to control herself. He thinks about tapping on her window・his fingers reach out・but he stops himself.

So he sits, and does not think of time, until slowly, like a tickle at the back of his throat, he becomes aware of an acrid, foul scent. His nose wrinkles, and he glances about for the source.

・Down here,・ someone rasps.

Kurt gasps, blood rushing to his cheeks. He peers down through tree branches, and for a moment, contemplates teleporting himself into a mountain. Instead, he closes his eyes, mutters a prayer, and feels his feet touch ground in a cloud of smoke.

・Ah,・ he stutters lamely, after a moment of painful silence. ・How are you tonight, Logan?・

Logan raises an eyebrow. He puffs cigar smoke. ・Tell me something,・ he says at last. ・Was ・Ro wearing any clothes?・

Kurt coughs, the tips of his ears growing as warm as his cheeks. ・Yes,・ he finally manages. ・She was very・clothed.・

Logan・s nostrils flare. ・Too bad for you.・

Kurt stares, and a tight grin flashes across Logan・s face, quickly dissolving into hard lines and serious eyes.

・Relax, Wagner. I・m not going to kill you for liking to look at beautiful women. Just don・t do it again. ・Ro deserves special care.・

・Yes, of course,・ Kurt sighs, ashamed. ・She deserves a great deal.・

Logan is a master of eloquent silences. Kurt is not. He tries to speak, but Logan cuts him off with a question.

・You drink?・

・Drink? You mean, ah, liquor? Yes. I have been known to imbibe from time to time.・

・Sure,・ Logan says. ・Well, come on. As I・ve recently been reminded, this is a school. Nothing worth spit in the kitchen, but I・ve got my own stash.・

・It is very kind of you to share.・

Logan shrugs, a small, sad smile playing along his lips. ・It・s that kind of night.・


・You loved her, did you not?・ Kurt asks, brave after his third beer. He feels a little woozy, but American beer is not as strong as circus brew, and he knows the effects will not last much longer.

The two men are alone, sitting in the recreation room. They are sprawled on two long, worn couches. Lamps cast light on the pool table, two six-packs gleaming like trophies against the green surface. Shadows cover everything else.

For a moment, utter silence. ・Yes,・ Logan says, just when Kurt is beginning to wonder if he should apologize. ・Yes, I loved her. I think・I think she loved me, too. In her own way. But in the end, she wanted someone else.・

Kurt slowly nods, clutching his beer. ・I understand all too well.・

Logan・s eyes are far too clear for a man who has just downed four beers. ・Hasn・t been easy for you with the ladies, has it?・

・I had friends,・ Kurt protests. ・Very good friends. I am thankful for them.・

・Friendship is good,・ Logan agrees, mild. ・But so is a little action.・

Kurt blushes. ・Ah・no action, as you say. Although I became very adept at stealing kisses during my performances. All part of the show, you know. I was the Devil stealing virgins from the altar! Very dramatic.・

・Yeah, that・s a real turn on.・

His tail twitches, the sharp tip digging convulsively into the couch. ・You do not understand, Logan. I have been in love, and always, it has been unrequited. Friendships, moments of intimacy imagined, or stolen・that is all I have been given. I have learned to make that enough. I have turned to my Faith. Anything else would be too painful.・

・Self pity・s a bitch.・ Logan・s voice is harder than his eyes. ・Sometimes a little love is worth the pain. Don・t need a lot of love, but from the right woman, even a little is enough.・

・Is it really?・ Kurt asks, unable to feel anger, only hurt. ・Was it enough with Jean?・

・Yeah,・ Logan says, softly. ・You might wanna think about that, the next time you run into ・Ro.・


He excuses himself soon thereafter, leaving Logan to drink his beers and sift through memories. He bypasses the kitchen・a quick glance shows Scott nursing a late-night coffee, face set in stone. No one has been sleeping much. It is a careful dance, developed in the weeks since Jean・s death. Everyone knows the halls are walked at night・but the footsteps could belong to ghosts, because no one is ever seen.

From inside the Mansion, a thought・and then he is in the garden, surrounded by wild things. He finds Ororo・s window. It is still lit from within, and he sighs.

She needs a friend, he tells himself. You can at least be that.

A moment later, smoke curling into oblivion, he finds himself knocking on her door.

Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she smiles for him, and he sees that she is genuinely happy he has come visiting.

・I saw your light on,・ he says, tail twitching with nervousness.

・I・m glad,・ she says, and holds the door open for him. She touches his hand as he passes her, and a moment later, soft lips skim his cheek. ・Thank you.・

Kurt touches the place she has kissed. He thinks, Logan is right, and squeezes her hand.

・Come,・ he says, smiling. He closes her door. ・This is a good night for telling stories.・

The End