Introduction:  Okay, the first thing I have to explain is how this is not a sequel to Foreign Correspondence. I have to explain that because I said in the series introduction to Foreign Correspondence that there would not be a sequel.
Hmmm.  This series isn't a sequel because it's really, really different than the others.  It takes place a long time after Foreign Correspondence ends, for one thing.  It doesn't deal with any of the issues I had been grappling with in FC and it doesn't tell anything about what happened to all the characters I left hanging.   It doesn't do any fancy switching POV stuff that makes the reader work to figure out who the "I" is.  It doesn't have email or phone sex.  It doesn't even have emails or phone conversations without sex. It's just a four-part first-person-Scott series and it's just about Scott and Logan breaking up.  And that's not a spoiler because Scott tells the reader in the first paragraph of the first story in the series.

Okay, but if I'm honest with myself (and I try to be) I have to admit it is connected to my previous work. It is consistent with the characters and relationships presented in

I Know What You Are
We're Not What You Think
Canadian Nights
Night and Day
Foreign Correspondence.

Adult Education can be read on its own, but it does make reference to events that occurred in each of the above series.  They are all available in a few places, including:

http://www.dymphna.net/xmovieslash
http://www.fanfiction.net/
http://www.phoenixfyre.net (in the Showers subsection of the Mainframe section)

Pairing:  Scott/Logan
Scenario:  Movieverse.  This series begins approximately three years after the movie ends and approximately one year after the end of Foreign Correspondence.
Sequel:  It's not a sequel.  Really.  It will have a sequel, working title "Continuing Education", told from Logan's point of view.
Rating:  NC/17 for sex, language, and violence.
Literature Guide:  A guide to literature referenced in both Adult Education and Continuing Education will be posted after the second series is complete.
Acknowledgements:  As always, a great debt of thanks is due to LS and SW, tireless researchers, beta readers, and helpers of all kinds.

It happened so gradually that I couldn't even pinpoint a day when it was over.  I'm not saying I wasn't paying attention.  On the contrary, I was painfully aware that Logan was cooling towards me.  We were spending less time together and the time we did spend was increasingly uncomfortable.  As time went on, we were talking less, we weren't training together much, we weren't working on our Boswell project.  It got to a point where we just weren't doing much of anything together other than sex.  And after a while there wasn't much of that, either.   But, still, I can't say that there was this day or that when we broke up.  I just realized more and more - day by excruciating day -- that he didn't want me any longer.

I think it was harder on me than it would have been if it had happened a year or two ago.  Lately I had started to think that we might have a future together. When the Saskatchewan outpost became fully operational and Logan came here, I had such hopes for us.  It looked like he'd be staying.  For a while, anyway.  And he settled in differently this time.  He was much more a part of the life of the school than he had been previously.   Sometimes he joined us at the faculty table for meals, although he more often ate with Marie or Oliver.   He was getting to know more people, participating more, often coming with us on missions.  He still spent a lot of time on his own and kept kind of weird hours, but he seemed to have found a good balance for himself between solitude and social contact.

Logan had even agreed to take over teaching some self-defense classes and proved to be a popular teacher, although one with a much deserved hard-ass reputation.  He and Hank were talking about collaborating on developing a wilderness survival course.  Hank would do the first aid and other medical topics and Logan would cover most of the other stuff --how to find or build shelter; how to escape detection; hunting and gathering food.  Charles was all for the idea and encouraged them to plan it for next semester. He was less enthusiastic about Logan's plan for the final exam: dropping the kids in a remote location for two weeks and seeing who was left at the end.

Not only was Logan teaching classes -- he was taking one.  I was a little alarmed when he walked into my Advanced Poetry Seminar on the first day, mostly because I remembered the last time he had sat in on a class of mine.  But he truly seemed to be there to learn.  He said Oliver had talked him into it, saying he wanted to take another semester of poetry but didn't want to be the only guy in the class again. Logan told me Oliver also said he was resigned to being the only one in the class who was there for the subject matter, but judging by his smile when he said it, Logan made that part up.  Anyway, he took the class very seriously.  He didn't participate much in class discussions, but he read all the material and would talk to me afterwards about what was said in class and ask for further reading suggestions.  And he wrote me a truly remarkable essay on imagery in the poetry of the Great War, interspersing his own experiences in that war with his discussion of those described in the poems.

We spent almost every night together, those first few months he was back.  Well, never the whole night.   He still wouldn't sleep with me.  Ever since the nightmares came back he had decided it was too dangerous.  I tried to talk him out of it, both because I felt sure he wouldn't hurt me and because I knew I could help him calm down if I were there when he woke from a nightmare, but he wouldn't budge.  So, we didn't get to spend the whole night together and I missed that.  But what we did have was wonderful. When I'd get back to my room in the evenings, after meetings or paperwork or rounds, he'd be there waiting for me.  And so eager for it.  The sex was amazing at first.  We were both just so happy and excited to be together without a looming departure date or fear of discovery and it just freed us sexually, or something.

I'd stop at the door to my room, hand on the knob for a minute.  Feeling a kind of frisson of sexual anticipation.  And then walk in and Logan would be there.   Pushing me against the closed door.  Kissing me hard, pulling my clothes off, moving those wonderful hands of his all over me.  Talking to me, right in my ear.  "I want to fuck you, Cyclops.  I want you so bad.  I thought about it all day -- could barely concentrate on what I was doing, thinking of being inside you, thinking of making you moan."

Often we'd do it the first time right there.  He'd push me up against the door, fucking me hard. His hands on me, his voice in my ear.   Or I'd get down on my knees and suck him off first.  Then he'd get down on the floor with me, hard again, telling me to get on my hands and knees.  He'd climb on top of me, lying on my back.   Pushing hard inside me, making me come with his dick inside me, his hand around my hard-on, his mouth on my neck.

We always ended up in my bed, though.  For more sex and to talk.  I swear I don't know which was better --the sex or the conversation.  We'd spend hours in bed together -- trying to piece together chapters in his life from his growing memories, reviewing missions and talking about what we could have done differently, talking about the school or literature or the plight of mutants in different parts of the world.   So many memorable conversations that I'll always have with me. And lots of memorable sex in among the conversations. It was wonderful to finally have him opening up to me like that, talking to me like he did with no one else. He laughed so hard one time when I told him he was the most talkative quiet guy I'd ever met.  And then proved he hadn't totally lost his capacity for terseness by telling me to turn over.

I'd had some unease about Logan going on missions with us.  I knew we could really use his skills.  I remembered, though, that our one time with him under my command had been rough in spots, although ultimately successful.  It seemed possible that the complexity of our relationship would make it harder for him to take orders from me.  It was one thing to agree that sex was the only arena where I did what he told me to and quite another to enter into an activity where the roles were completely reversed.  But Logan wasn't worried, and after a while I wasn't, either. He didn't challenge my authority while on a mission. He only argued with an order once, and the need that time was urgent -- really, I think he saved us all. Other than that one time, he took orders without complaint, apparently had no trouble accepting my leadership.  Afterwards, though, we'd do a private postmortem in bed.  He'd suggest how things could be done differently and I always found I learned from his comments.  He'd had so much more combat experience, in so many different settings, and had been on both the victorious side and the vanquished.  We'd discuss different ways the mission could have been handled; argue it out sometimes.  I didn't always end up agreeing with his views, but I always gained a lot from listening to him.  And I glowed with pride the time I asked him after a mission what I could have done differently and he said, after a long pause, "Can't think of a thing."

The Boswell project was coming along, aided by the returning dreams.  He had developed a method that seemed to work for him.  He'd stop taking the herbs and start dreaming again, telling me all about the dreams, trying to piece together what was memory and what was dream.  Then he'd start taking the herbs again when he got to a point where he felt overwhelmed with it.  A lot of what he was learning was exciting for him - when he started remembering his time working with Mac Hudson he was on a high from it for days. Other times he'd get all quiet and it would become clear that he was trying to process some disturbing memory before he talked to me about it.  When that happened the conversation stopped short, although the sex continued in an almost compulsive way.

That didn't scare me like it used to.  I knew now what mindless sex did for him and was just able to go with the flow, to wait until he was ready to talk and do what I could for him in the meantime.  When he was in a bad way I felt confident that things would get better, for him as an individual and for us as a couple.

I was feeling that way about other issues, too, not just the funk he'd sometimes get in when a particularly disturbing memory resurfaced.  If we had an argument - even a fairly rancorous one -- or if I'd find myself backsliding a little in my progress towards being more open and honest about being gay, I didn't get into the panic I would have even a year ago.  We had more of a history now.  We had ways of getting over rough spots that we hadn't had when our relationship was new, when we hadn't understood each other so well and hadn't known what worked and what didn't.  But more important than any particular methods of dealing with each other, we had the history itself.  We knew we had been through really tough times before and come out of them stronger as a couple and that gave us the confidence that we could do it again, even if the troubles themselves were new. Well, it gave me the confidence, anyway.  I thought at the time that Logan was equally confident, equally committed.

After a few months, though, he was getting really frustrated as the pace of recall slowed.  He still had huge gaps in his memory and they just weren't going away.  He continued to recall events he'd previously lost, but they were all from time periods he already knew a lot about.   There were years and years when he had no idea what he had done or where he had been and he was finding that increasingly frustrating.  He also confessed that the gaps scared him -- he worried that something had happened that he wasn't remembering because he just couldn't face it.  And couldn't imagine what could have been worse than what had happened during his Weapon X years.

So, it seemed like a good idea at the time to suggest that he go to Charles and ask him for help.  I had no doubt that Charles could work his way through the recesses of Logan's brain and find whatever was lurking there.  And I told Logan he could trust Charles to do so sensitively, to be fully aware of what Logan wanted him to find and what he didn't, and to maintain confidentiality about the things he did find out.   I probably should have thought a little more about Charles's lingering doubts about my relationship with Logan, but I really didn't think that was relevant.  And I guess I've been so accustomed to turning to him in times of trouble that it never occurred to me to think whether Charles's own feelings might interfere with his ability to help Logan.  To help Logan and me, together.

I did notice that Logan spent less time with me once he started working with Charles and that the time he did spend with me he was less and less communicative. It didn't worry me at first -- I looked on it as another rough patch, brought on by whatever Charles was helping him remember.  I figured it would work itself out, that Logan would talk to me about it when he was ready, as he had before.   Then things got worse.  Logan was actively avoiding me.  If he was finding comfort in mindless sex it certainly wasn't with me.  After a while it became clear that this wasn't just a rough spot.  Logan wasn't interested in being with me any more.  I still didn't connect that to Charles.

I decided I had to do something when I hadn't even seen Logan for a couple of days, and hadn't spent any time alone with him for close to two weeks.   I was determined to confront him about what had happened to us even though I had little hope it would do any good. He had cooled towards me both gradually and thoroughly and it seemed unlikely that was going to change.  But I wanted to understand to the best of my ability what had happened.  Had he just gotten bored? Had I done something wrong?  Was there someone else?

So this time I went to his room at night, asked him if we could talk.  "I don't feel much like talking right now," he said, sitting in the chair by the bed.  In a dead voice, inscrutable expression on his face, not looking at me.  I got down on my knees in front of him, put my hands on his legs.  "Not that, either," he said, head turned away.

"Please, Logan.  It's been a long time.  Let me.  I'll make you feel good, I promise."  Stroking his thighs now, nuzzling him through his pants, feeling him getting hard.  He didn't say anything but he looked at me now, sadly.  I unzipped him, started sucking him slowly.  I knew without him telling me he meant it to be the last time -- knew from the way he touched my head and face while I did him, and the rest of me afterwards when we ended up in his bed.  Like he was trying to touch every inch of me, trying to create a permanent memory of what I felt like.  He didn't say anything while we were having sex and turned away from me afterwards.

I lay there behind him, started to rub his shoulders. He didn't lean into me like he used to, didn't tell me it felt good, but he didn't tell me to stop, either. Finally, I asked him.  "Why, Logan?  Why don't you want me any more?  What happened to us?"

He didn't answer for a long time.  "It's not that I don't want you," he said, finally.  "It's not you. It's just me."

"What do you mean?"

"You need someone who can love you, really care.  And I can't.  I've really tried, Scott, but I just don't have it in me. I told you before -- they took that from me."

"It's okay," I told him.  "I don't need a lot of declarations of love.  I told you I can do without that.  I've learned to read what silent love hath writ."

"It's not just saying it.  It's living it, feeling it. For a while there I thought I could get over it, but I can't.  I'm damaged goods, Scott. And some damage just doesn't heal.  Not enough to give you what you need."

"What I need is you, Logan.  I'll take what you can give.  Being with you is enough for me.  I don't need anything more."  I tried to keep my voice calm.

He shook his head.  "No, Scott.   Maybe it feels like that now, but it's not enough.  It's not going to be enough, not long term.  Better a clean break than just letting it drag out."

I didn't argue with him.  I was angry, furious even, but not with him.  Oh, I know Charles almost never uses his mind control powers, that he only does when he truly needs to.  I didn't think he was controlling Logan's mind now, not in that direct way.  Still, those had been Charles's words coming out of Logan's mouth, just as much as if he had been.

If he had just said he wasn't interested in me anymore, I would have accepted that.  Same for if he had said that he had somebody else.  At least, I think I would have accepted it.   It's certainly something that had been in the back of my mind for a long time. He doesn't exactly have a great track record on long term relationships.

For at least the first year we were together I was pretty much braced to hear from him that he was moving on.  It was only lately that the fear of losing him that way had moved to the back of my mind.  And it resurfaced with a vengeance when he started avoiding me.

So I was kind of prepared for hearing that he was done, but not like this.  Not with Logan telling me that he was doing it for my sake, not with him parroting Charles's idiotic idea that I'd be better off without him.  Not with him seeming so depressed; not with him touching me so longingly, so sadly.  It was as if he were breaking up with me in spite of himself, not because it was something he wanted to do. So, no, I didn't just go quietly.

I thought I'd try to talk to him after poetry class the next day.  I figured the classroom was sort of neutral ground, and we could talk there afterwards or go for a walk or something.  He had seemed really fragile the night before and I didn't want to put pressure on him.  I worried that if I pushed too hard he might fall apart altogether.  Still, I wanted to understand better how he had made this decision. And if he truly thought this was better for me, I wanted a chance to try to convince him otherwise.

I looked for Logan hopefully in class but he never showed up.  I caught up with him later in the Danger Room, but he was busy with students and said he didn't have time to talk.  So, I found myself knocking on his door again in the evening.  He didn't look happy to see it was me.

"What do you want, Cyclops?" he said, sitting in the armchair again.  He looked away from me.

"I just wanted to see if you're okay.  You weren't in class this afternoon."

"I think I've had enough poetry."  That flat tone, his face turned to the wall.

"Logan, please," I said, trying not to sound desperate.  "Talk to me.   Tell me what's happening to you.  Don't give up on me so easily.  Don't give up on us."

He didn't say anything for a long time.  I felt like there was something going on inside him, like he was at war with himself on what to say.  He was looking at me now, eyes pleading.  But then the dead look came back and he spoke to me in that same flat tone.  "I'm done with you.  I thought I made that clear yesterday."  Neither of us said anything for a couple of minutes.  Then he added, "I think you'd better go now."

"I'm sorry, Logan," I said.  "You're right.  You shouldn't have to tell me twice.  It's not like I've never heard that from anybody before.  I think my problem was that you're the first man that ever talked to me like that who didn't pay me first."

He didn't say anything but he looked like it hurt.  At that moment I hoped it did.   I just wanted to feel like I could still have some effect on him.   I didn't want to cause him pain, not really.  But right then it just seemed like indifference would have been so much worse.  I turned around and walked out.  I thought I heard him call my name as I left, but I didn't stay to make sure.

What I really wanted to do right then was go yell at Charles.   That's what I had wanted to do since the night before, when I first realized he'd had a hand in Logan's changed attitude towards me.  Unfortunately Charles was away, on yet another trip to Washington. This wasn't something I wanted to talk to him about over the phone.

I thought of heading over to the Danger Room and working off some of my frustration and anger in training.  But I knew there would be students there, as well as other teachers, and I just didn't feel like I wanted to be "on" right at that moment.  So, I went back to my room for trunks and swim goggles and headed to the pool.

It was a good decision.  Swimming laps always puts me into a sort of trance-like state and I needed to relax.  Only thing is I get so relaxed I become fairly unaware of my surroundings.  I don't know how long Jean was there, watching me swim. I stopped for a minute at the shallow end and there she was, just sitting on the side.  Pant legs rolled up over her knees, feet dangling in the water. Flowing red hair and sympathetic smile.  "Hi," I said.  "How long have you been here?"

"A while.  What's up?  How come you're here all by yourself?"

I shrugged.  "No reason in particular.  I felt like swimming."

"Oh, come on.  Scott 'Never Swim Alone' Summers?  Who has swimming pool drowning stats at the tips of his fingers at all times and scares the students half to death with them?"

I shrugged again.  "I've decided to live dangerously. Who knows where this will end?  Maybe I'll go a day without flossing or something."

She laughed.   "Do you want me to count laps for you?"

"Just like old times?"

"Well, without sex by the side of the pool afterwards."  I smiled at that and went back to swimming.    After a while she tapped me on the shoulder, told me I'd done a mile since she came in. I got out and toweled off.

"Feel better?"

"Fine."

"What's going on, Scott?  What's with you and Logan?"

"Nothing.  Nothing at all.  It's over.  I've been dumped.  I'm working on dealing with it gracefully." I stopped to think what else to say.  "I'm not quite there yet," I added ruefully.  "In fact, I was pretty awful to Logan just now.  I'll try to do better in future.  I can learn from your example."

She smiled at that and then reached out her arms.  We hugged each other for a few minutes.  "I can't believe it's over between you two.  It's so obvious he loves you."

"Get with the times, Jean.  That's old news. Well, actually, according to Logan, he never did love me. He's not capable of loving anybody and it's better for me if we have a clean break.  He sounds just like Charles when he says that, too.  Makes me feel like hitting him."

"Who?  Logan or Charles?"

"Take your pick. You'd think Logan could come up with his own damn exit line.  You'd think Charles could realize I'm a little too old to have him meddling in my love life.  And of course they've both decided what's better for me and my opinion on the matter is wholly irrelevant.  Although, truth be told, I don't know what Logan's really thinking.   Maybe he just lost interest and this is his weird idea of letting me down easy.  What do you think?"

"I don't know what to think.  I do know he loves you, Scott.  Anyone would know that.  Just by the way he looks at you, for one thing."

"He doesn't look at me, Jean.  He avoids being anywhere near me.  I'm telling you -- you're behind the times."

"You're wrong.  You have no idea how wrong you are. He's always looking at you, Scott.  Or listening to you.  Even from a distance.  It's obvious to anyone --not just a telepath.  But it seems like it's always from a distance lately.  I never see you together any more.  I figured something had happened between you and him."

"Well, if something happened I don't know what it was. He's been distant since he started working with Charles on recovering some of his lost years.   I was just trying to give him time -- figured he'd share what's going on when he was ready.  And then it was becoming more and more clear that he didn't want to be near me.  He just told me it's over yesterday.   I tried to argue with him tonight, but he was pretty damn clear on wanting nothing to do with me any more. Hence recklessly swimming alone, I guess.  The Scott Summers version of drowning my sorrows."

"Maybe he found something out?  Some memory?  Maybe it's something he thinks will disappoint you and you won't want to be with him any more.  So, he's rejecting you first.

"Or maybe it is Charles's influence, like you said. He has never been comfortable with the idea of you and Logan.  I used to think Charles was just being protective of me, hoping you and I would get back together, but that's not it.  I know he understands how it is with us now.

"I don't know, Scott.   Something happened to Logan. He's broadcasting like crazy.  Love, pain, fear -- and all of it centered on you."

"Well, I wish he'd tell me what happened.  And I wish Charles would mind his own damn business.  And I wish he would get back here so I can tell him so.   And now I'm all worked up again and taking it out on you.  I'm sorry, Jean."

She touched my arm and smiled reassuringly.  "Don't be sorry.  What are friends for?  Charles is coming back in a couple of days and you can yell at him then, if you really want to.  We can even tag team yell at him. Or at least ask him what he knows.  Maybe Logan will open up to you soon.  In the meantime, why don't you swim another mile?  I'll count laps.  And watch to make sure you don't drown."

When I got back to my room, he was there, waiting for me.  Standing by the window, looking at me.   I glared at him.  "I knock on your door, you know.  You could do the same when you come to my room."

"I did.  You weren't here."  Then, before I could say anything, "Yeah, I know.  I could've come back later. I didn't, okay?   Who were you swimming with?"

"Nobody.  Jean hung out with me and counted laps for a while."

"That's my job."  He was giving me that teasing smile I hadn't seen for a long time.  I hadn't seen him smile at all for a long time.  I think a day ago I would have been relieved and happy to see him smiling at me.  Now I was just mad.

"It was her job long before you showed up, Logan."

The smile went away.  "I know that.  Sometimes I forget, though."  Neither of us said anything for a while.  "You going back to her?" he asked, finally.

I laughed.  "Are you kidding?"  He looked like he wasn't. "I think you're overestimating your impact on me, Logan.  I'm not going to somehow stop being gay just because you dumped me.  Maybe being with a man is an aberration for you.  It isn't for me.  Jean understands that.  I thought you did, too."

"It's not an aberration for me.  It's just different than it is for you, I guess."

He didn't say anything more.  "What do you want, Logan?"

"I'm not like those guys.  It wasn't right to say I am."

Suddenly I wasn't mad any more, thinking of how I'd hurt him, wishing I hadn't said it.  "You're right. It was a lousy thing to say.  I'm sorry, Logan.  I was just saying to Jean I should learn from her example, accept this with grace."  He just stood there.  I walked up to him, put my arms around him, whispered in his ear.  "But I'm not.  Accepting it at all, never mind with grace.  I just don't believe you don't want me any more."  He kept his hands by his sides, fists clenched.  "I still want you.  Don't say you're done with me. Please."  I took his hand, put it to my crotch.  "See what you do to me, Logan.  Remember what you said about desire always being there, even when things were bad between us?  It's still there for me. I can't believe it isn't for you."

"This isn't a good idea," he said, shaking his head. But he didn't take his hand away.

"It's a great idea.  Charles doesn't know what he's talking about." I kissed him then.  He kissed me back, hand still holding my cock through my trunks, stroking now.   Then he got down on his knees, pulling the trunks off of me, kissing and stroking my thighs, then licking all over my balls while he worked my cock with his hand.  "Yes, Logan.  Please."  I wasn't worrying about sounding desperate anymore.  That was good, because I'm sure I did.

"I can't stay away from you.   I thought I could.  I was working on it, getting good at it.  Least ways, I thought I was.  And now I'm right back where I started. I need you, Scott," he said, his voice full of pain and longing.  Then he started sucking me.  I held him by the back of the head and pushed in and out, hard and fast.  He was sucking hard and his hands were all over me, everywhere he could reach.  He was making these noises, almost more like a hum than anything else.  I kept pushing in deep and hard, worried a little I might be hurting him.  But the feeling was too good and too intense and it crowded out the worry.    I pushed all the way in when I came, his face pressed against me, my hands in his hair.

I sat down on the floor afterwards and he sat next to me, leaning in to kiss my neck and ear.  "I don't know what to do," he said.  "I can't stay away."

"It's okay to need me, Logan.  Don't stay away."  I started to undress him, kissing him on the shoulders and chest.  "Why would you want to stay away?  We're so good together.  I'll take whatever you've got to give.  It's not love?  Okay.  It's still great sex; it's still friendship.  It's enough."

He didn't answer me, just finished taking off his clothes and told me to lie face down on the floor. And fucked me so slowly that it was almost like he wanted it to last forever.  His hands moving up and down me, his tongue all over my face, my neck, my shoulders. I felt him moving inside me, felt his tears falling on my back.  I told him it would be okay, then took his hand and put it to my mouth, sucked hard on his fingers.  "I can't stay away," he said again.  And then he said nothing more.  Silence and tears.

I felt loved, no matter what he said.  I felt warm and cared for.  Worried for him, wishing he'd tell me what's wrong but thinking what he felt for me was strong enough, that we'd work it out somehow.  And then finally he came deep inside me.  He pulled out of me and we held each other for a while there, on the floor.  I was still feeling good, still feeling like it was going to be okay.  And then he kissed me and said, softly and sadly,  "It's too hard, Scott, too hard to stay away from you.  It's always gonna be too hard, long as I'm here."    I shivered.  All the warmth was gone.

I was scared each day that I'd wake up and someone would tell me at breakfast that Logan had left in the night and we needed a sub for his classes.  I'd pleaded with him not to just run out without telling me this time.  I asked him to promise to tell me if he was leaving, to say goodbye to my face.  Out of respect for my feelings and for our friendship. I told him it was really important to me, especially if he meant it to be the last time.  He listened to everything I had to say but was non-committal.  It occurred to me that we had been together for close to three years now and the only promise he'd ever made to me was that he wouldn't kill me.  That gave me pause, sort of suggested that Charles might have a point about Logan not being a great bet for a long term relationship.  On the other hand, it was all a question of how you look at it.  If I chose to view this as three years in which he hadn't broken a single promise to me, it sounded like a much more positive thing.

Maybe he wouldn't feel the need to leave, though. After saying repeatedly that he couldn't stay away from me that one night he seemed to have no trouble doing just that every night since then.   We were back to spending no time together and barely glimpsing each other from a distance.   I was still angry with Charles, more so by the day.  His planned return kept being delayed so I had no real outlet for that anger.

So between worrying about Logan's possible departure and waiting for Charles to come home, I was both nervous and angry.  I was trying hard not to let either emotion show, going about my business as usual. Spending a lot of time in the Danger Room and at the pool.

I found out Charles was back during my Advanced Poetry Seminar.  Logan had apparently meant what he said about having had enough poetry, or at least enough of listening to me talk about poetry.  He hadn't come back to class and Oliver and I were alone again in a sea of girls.  Well, we were until Charles wheeled into the classroom, raising the male count by one. The kids all turned to see him.  "Welcome back," I said and "Can I help you?"  He said to ignore him and just carry on with the lesson.  Well, that's all he said out loud but in my brain he was asking, "What's wrong? Are you okay?" in tones of concern and love.  I paid no heed to the telepathic questions and followed the spoken instruction, continuing the discussion of John Donne's  "For Whom the Bell Tolls".

"Everyone knows the 'send not to ask for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee' part," I was saying.  "I think we have Hemingway to thank for that.  Taken by itself, that line has an ominous ring, doesn't it?"  I paused briefly and then added, "No pun intended," and was rewarded with a few chuckles. "But that was not the poet's intention and that's clear if you read the poem in its entirety, or even the lines just before that.  'Each man's death diminishes me for I am involved in mankind.'  It's, on the contrary, a very positive statement of human interconnectedness."

"Well, if you're a man, I guess it is," said Jubilee. "It doesn't make me feel very connected."

"You've got a good point, Jubilee.  I suppose now we would say 'each person's death diminishes me for I am involved with humanity'.  That would certainly be more inclusive.  Yet to my ears it would lose some of the poetry.  Do you think it just feels that way to me because I'm a man?  Or is there something about the way he wrote it originally that has some value now, even if we wouldn't write it like that today?"

It wasn't where I'd planned on taking the class, but that was okay.  It sparked a really thought-provoking discussion and they all seemed to enjoy it.  We talked about inclusiveness and specificity in language, the place for each.  Kitty brought up 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal' as well.  Not strictly poetry, of course, but Jefferson's language is so poetic.  And clearly not inclusive in even that statement, which was intended to be all embracing.  The class pondered this, comparing it to the Donne line.  Did Donne feel diminished by the death of a woman?  Would Jefferson have thought it self-evident that people other than white land-owning men were created equal?   The evidence of his life would say not, yet how often do people who articulate lofty ideals fail to live up to them?  Do we live up to the ideals we hold dear?  I threw that last question out for consideration.  And, as is so often the case, the kids tied it into their experiences as mutants, talking about whether they felt a common bond with all of humanity or just with our kind.  Does each man's death diminish each of us, or only each mutant's?

"We're all one people, really, one species," Oliver said.   "It's important for us to remember that, even if it sometimes feels like we're the only ones who do."

The bell rang.  "That one tolls for all of you," I said.  "Class dismissed."

They all filed out and Charles and I were alone. "What's wrong, Scott?" he said, speaking out loud this time.

"I think we'd better go somewhere more private to talk," I said, keeping my voice calm, albeit with considerable effort.   We agreed to go to his office. Along the way we talked about school business and the progress Charles was making in Washington, interrupted a few times by students welcoming him back.

When we were seated in his office, I found it hard to begin.  "I'm so mad at you I can barely talk," I said.

"When Scott Summers is speechless, this is clearly serious.  Do you want to try to talk about it?  Or should I find out telepathically?"

"I don't want you in my brain, Charles." He winced, visibly, but I didn't feel any sympathy.  "Do you really not know what this is about?  I figured I'd been broadcasting all over the place."

"I know it has to do with Logan and I know you're angry and upset.  That's about all."

"Well, that's a good start, I guess.  I'm not giving him up without a fight, Charles."

He sighed and said, "Has it come to that?  I had hoped it wouldn't."  I looked at him skeptically.  "You think I'm the one you need to fight?  You're wrong, Scott."

"Oh, come on, Charles.  Who told him that he's too damaged to give me what I need?  Who told him that he's never going to recover completely?  Aside from what you're doing to me, to me and Logan, why the hell would you think that's an appropriate thing to say to someone as fragile as he is?"

I was raising my voice now but his remained calm. "You might ask yourself instead, Scott, how likely it is that you can have the kind of relationship you're looking for with someone so fragile.  You know, you say you're in love with him and I do believe you.  But think about the way you talk about him -- surely you're as aware as I am of his limitations."

"You're right.  I'm aware he's got problems.  I happen to think that kind of awareness is a good thing.  I'm in love with him but I don't have any illusions about him.  I know what he's been through.  Well, some of it.  And I'm full of admiration for what he's done with his life, anyway.  Logan and I are both damaged, we're both limited, but we can help each other.  We have helped each other.  Look at how he's been functioning on the team and teaching.  Two things you said he'd never be able to do.  Logan has come so far in the time I've known him.    If you can't see that, then you don't want to or something."

"I'm well aware of how far he has come, Scott.  I do want to know - I think it's wonderful. "

I was mad enough, anyway, but his continuing calm demeanor was driving me over the edge.  "You're sure not acting like you think it's wonderful -- talking him into leaving.  You hate him, don't you?  And don't think I don't know why.  You hate that he's my lover, hate that he makes me happy.  He's doing what you want to do, what you've wanted to do ever since you brought me here when I was sixteen.  And you can't. That's what this is about, isn't it?"

I regretted saying it as soon as it was out of my mouth.   I wasn't even sure where that came from. Maybe I was just trying to shock him out of his complacent manner.  If so, it didn't work.  He paused for a minute, but then continued in the same calm voice.  "No, Scott," he said.  "That's not how I feel about you.  It never has been."  I started to apologize but he stopped me.  "No, it's okay.  I'm glad you said it.  It's something we should talk about.  And you're not the first person to suggest that my concerns about you and Logan are rooted in sexual jealousy -- Logan said the same thing to me. Somewhat more graphically, I might add.  It caused me a bit of soul-searching at the time, but it just isn't there.  What I feel for you is a profound love, Scott. I always have and I always will.  But it's not that kind of love."  He stopped a minute, thinking.  "But maybe there's a core truth in there somewhere.  Maybe I do feel some antipathy towards Logan for being more important to you than I am.  When you were with Jean, it was different.  I had concerns about your relationship, but I view you both as my children.  I never felt that she was taking you away from me, or that you were taking her away.  Maybe I feel that a little bit with Logan.  But, whatever complexity of feelings I have towards him, Scott, I've really tried to help him.  And on his terms -- he told me what he wanted to know and I've helped him find that out."

"And convinced him to break up with me along the way? When he tells me why he's doing it, it's your words coming out of his mouth, Charles."

"No, you're wrong.  He asked me early on what I thought of his relationship with you and I told him honestly about my concerns.  That's all, Scott.  I've made no attempt to influence him in that regard.  I couldn't, anyway.  He totally rejected what I had to say.  And, as I told you, speculated along the same lines you just did about why I'd said it.  That was when I first started working with him and we haven't discussed it since.  If he's leaving you, it's not because of anything I'd said.

"And Scott, I'm sorry.  As I've worked with Logan I have seen more and more of what you love about him. And I've become increasingly aware of the depth of his feelings for you.  He does love you.  I was hoping things would work out for you two, even if I still have reservations.  Truly, this isn't something I wanted."

"If it's not because of your influence, then what is it, Charles?  If he loves me, why won't he have anything to do with me?  Why is he talking about leaving?"

"I think you need to ask Logan that.  It's not for me to say."

I knocked on his door three nights running.  Either he wasn't there or he wasn't answering.  Finally, I tracked him down in one of his classes.  Just stood in the back of the room, watching him.  It was a side of him I hadn't seen before.  Oh, I'd observed him teaching a few times before, but only the practical parts of his classes, putting the kids through assorted physical routines in the gym or simulations in the Danger Room.  This was the first time I'd seen Logan giving an actual lecture in a classroom, and it was fascinating to watch.  The theme of today's class was the importance of military intelligence.  I don't know if he started with Carlin's joke about that phrase being an oxymoron or not.  Right now, in the middle of the class, he was clearly deadly serious. He had "Knowledge is Power" up on the board and was talking about theory, about strategy, about tactics, bringing in relevant historical examples with an ease that spoke of an impressive breadth of knowledge.  The kids were all attentive and appeared to be enjoying the class.  I was too, both for the material itself and just for seeing Logan in action in a way I never had before.

The kids filed out when class was over.  "You're really good at that," I said, smiling at him.

He just glared at me.  "You want something, Cyclops?"

I stopped smiling.  "What goes around comes around."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I was just remembering that a long time ago I was avoiding you, and you tracked me down teaching.  And here I am doing the same to you."

"You looking for a blow job?"

"No, I'm not.   I'm looking for answers.  And, I confess, I have this tendency to view a blow job as the answer to most things, but not this time."    He smiled at that, at least.   I rapped my knuckles on the board.  "I'm looking to increase my knowledge."

"Well, maybe I was looking for answers that other time, too, but I settled for a blow job."

"What did you want answers to?"

"Why you were staying away from me all of a sudden. What you wanted from me, anyway.  How Jeannie fit into it.  That kind of thing."  He didn't say anything for a minute.  "I sort of figured you were using me to get started or something.  You needed a man first, get you turned on.  Then you went to her."

"You thought I was using you for foreplay and then having sex with Jean?"  He nodded. "Do you still think that's what was going on?"  He nodded again, a little more tentatively this time.  "You're so wrong."  He looked skeptically at me. "Nothing could be further from the truth, Logan.   I wasn't even having sex with her all that time I was meeting you at night."

"What?  You didn't want to cheat on me?"

His tone was mocking and hostile, but I answered him seriously.  "I was scared to have sex with her, scared she'd find out I was cheating on her.  I hadn't been with a man for a long time and thought I was over all that.  And then you showed up and I found out how wrong I was.   I was totally sexually fixated on you, Logan.  I was scared I'd think of you any time I got aroused.  It's not easy keeping secrets from a telepathic lover.  And it's pretty much impossible during sex.  There's just no way to shield your thoughts then."

"I didn't know that."  And then, after a minute, "So, what did she think was going on?  What'd you tell her?"

"I didn't tell her anything.  She came to her own conclusions.  She thought I was jealous of you, thought I was worried she was going to have an affair with you.  And that my jealousy was getting in the way, making me avoid her."  I paused, remembering how strained my relationship with Jean had been at that time.  "I hate how I treated Jean back then, you know."

"I know.  I kind of hate how I treated you back then, too."  He sat down on one of the desks and gestured to me to sit opposite him.  "What do you want to know, Scott?"

"I want to know what's really going on," I told him. "I've talked to Charles.  He tells me you never accepted his theory that I'm better off without you. In fact, he says you told him you thought he's jealous of you."

"I still think it.  He never wanted me near you.  He's been against you and me being together, from the start. He wants you, Scott, no matter what he says."

"I don't think so.  He's pretty in touch with his feelings, I think.  Denying what you feel is more my style.  Charles is the type to acknowledge his feelings, even incestuous ones, and then just control his behavior."

"It wouldn't be incest.  He's not really your father."

"He's the only father I've got, Logan.  It's real to me, as real as anybody else's family."  Neither of us said anything for a couple of minutes.  "So what's going on really?  Did you just get bored?  If you're thinking it's easier for me to hear that you're doing it for my sake, you're wrong.  I want to know the truth."

He took a deep breath, looking like he was considering what to say.  "Okay.   I'll tell you the truth.  It wasn't all lies, though.  It is real hard for me to be with somebody.  I do think he had a point about me not totally healing, even if I have doubts about why he said it."  He paused again.  "But there's stuff you don't know. Stuff I didn't know 'til the professor helped me get it back. It's kind of a long story. Hard to know what to say."  I waited, anxiously, for him to begin.  "I mean, I guess the first thing to tell you is you're not my first."

"Somehow I figured you weren't a virgin when I met you."

He glared at me again.  "Do you want to hear this or don't you?"

"I'm sorry.  Yes, I want to hear it.  I make jokes when I'm nervous. I'll try not to.  It doesn't mean I'm not taking this seriously.  I really want to know. Okay?"

"Okay."

"So, I wasn't your first.  Your first what?"  He looked like he might be getting mad again.  "I'm not joking now.  I'm just trying to understand."

"My first... I don't know.  The first time I got really close to someone.  The first time I had somebody that we were trying to make a life together.  The first time I was in love."  He looked away saying the last part.  "I know I told you there never was anybody like that before, anybody I got close to.  I wasn't lying. I just didn't remember."

"I understand, Logan.  I didn't think you were lying." He didn't say anything more, so I thought I'd prod him a little.  "Okay, so there was somebody else.  Or a few somebody elses?"

"Two.  Well, two that I know of.  I don't think there are more but I can't be sure."  He sounded in real pain saying that.  I tried to take his hand but he pulled it away.

"Okay, so you had two serious lovers before me.  Men or women?  Not that I'm insecure about whether you're really interested in men or worried that this thing with me might just be a fluke or anything."

That got a smile out of him.  "One of each.   Okay with you?"

I nodded.  "And what happened to them?"

"They're both dead.  It was a long time ago."

"Yeah, I guess it would have been.  You outlive everybody."  I waited a little for him to continue, but he didn't say anything more.  "I think about that sometimes.  Or used to, when I thought we were going to stay together."  He winced at that.  "You're going to outlive me, too.  I know that.  And it's not that part that bothers me, really.    I mean, after I'm dead what do I care?  But I did think about not even having a chance to grow old together.  Sometimes at night, Logan, I'd think about me getting old while you're still like this.  It would be a little much to expect you to give 'blessings on my frosty prow' when you're perpetually thirty-something.   I figured I still had a few years, though, before that became an issue.  Usually I hate it that I look younger than I am.  I feel like I have to work so much harder just to be taken seriously.  But I thought it would come in handy for you and me, give us a little longer."  He still didn't say anything.  "So, anyway, are you going to tell me any more?"

"Yeah.  I just don't know what to say, how to say it."

"Well, tell me about your lovers.  Who was the most recent one?  What was his name?  Her name?"

"Her.  Yasuko."

"Japanese?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't in Japan.  Not then.  I met her here."

"When was this?"

"A long time ago.  Before the war."

"Which war?"

"The Great War.  World War I.  Whatever you want to call it."

"And the other one?  The man?"

"A long time before that."

"Okay, so basically you're telling me that every 100 years or so you fall in love."

He smiled at that.  "I guess I'm not the romantic type."

"I guess not.  So, you met her.  You fell in love. Did you get married?"  He nodded. "Kids?"

"Yeah, two of them."

"What happened, Logan?"

He took a deep breath.  He started talking softly, in that dead tone.  "They died -- all three of them. Murdered.  I wasn't there to stop him.  Should've been."

"I'm so sorry, Logan.  How awful."

"I'm the one who found them.  You wouldn't think someone could forget something like that, would you? What kind of man finds his whole family slaughtered and then just lets that slip his mind?   Whatever kind of man that is, that's me.  I didn't know, didn't remember.   Not until recently, anyway.  Now I remember it all.  I can still see them, can remember just how it felt to come home and find them like that."  His tone was still really flat but tears started falling down his face.  "You know what was the worst part, Scott?  Not knowing who he did first.  And it's not even like I know which would be worse.  I mean, I thought about that a lot.  Was it better if the kids never saw what he did to their mama, or better if she never saw what he did to them?"

I got off the desk and put my arms around him.  He didn't stop me.  "I'm so sorry," I told him again, whispering in his ear this time.   "Did they ever find out who did it?" I asked after a while.

"I know who did it."  He pushed me back from him, held me at arm's length now, hand on my shoulder.  "The same guy who tried to do you.  Same one I been dreaming about."

"Sabretooth?"

He nodded.  "It's like I'm cursed with him or something.  I don't know what it is about him and me. But anything bad happens in my life and he's connected to it somehow.  And he's already had one crack at you, Scott.  I just can't stay with you.  Don't you see? We can't be together.  It's not safe.  I can't let him have another chance to get you.  If we stayed together, he'd find out somehow.  I can't let it happen again."

"But it wasn't about you and me that time.  You know that, don't you?  He was working for Magneto -- he and Toad both were.  They were going to kill me to get to Charles -- it wasn't anything to do with you."

"I don't know.  I know they said that.  But there's something about that guy.  It's like he's haunting me or something."  Now the anguish wasn't only on his face; it was in his voice, too.  "We can't be together, Scott.  I can't risk him finding out what I feel for you.  He'll kill you, I'm sure of it."

He stood up and turned around to leave but I took his arm and he turned back to me.  I put my arms around him again and this time he held me, too.  I thanked him for telling me and told him I knew it must have been hard to say.  I said I wanted to share his life, wanted to know it all and help any way I could.  I begged him not to leave the school, not to leave me. "We don't even know where he is, Logan.  And he doesn't know where we are.  We'll probably never see him again.  And if we do, we'll deal with it together. You and I as a team are more than a match for him.  We fought him together once, Logan.  If it comes to it, we can do it again.  Damned if I'd let him get away alive again, though."  He looked like he was going to say something else, but didn't.  Just clung to me there, letting me say soothing things in his ear. Finally, I asked him what I'd been wondering.  "Your other lover, Logan?  From before Yasuko?  What happened to him?  Did Sabretooth kill him, too?"

He disengaged and stepped back a couple of paces, looking at me.  He shook his head and spoke softly. "No.  I did."

The End