Night And Day
by Mo

Sequel/Series: This is a 10-part story series. It's a sequel to the 15-part "Canadian Nights" series which is a sequel to the 10-part "We're Not What You Think" which is, in turn, a sequel to the 7-part "I Know What You Are".
Scenario: The Movie Universe. I have borrowed concepts and characters from assorted Marvel comic book titles as well but have not tried in any way to make the stories consistent with the comic books (as far as I can tell, Marvel has despaired of making the comic books consistent with each other). Similarly for the novelization of the movie and for other X-Men books. I've looked on all of those resources as fodder for ideas but have felt bound only to be consistent with what is presented in the movie and with the previous stories in this series. In addition to movie and comic book characters, I began the introduction of original characters in the previous series, "Canadian Nights". Characters first introduced there are explored further in this series. This series begins shortly after "Canadian Nights" ends and over a year after the movie ends.
Pairing: Logan/Scott, although they are adjusting to major changes in their relationship. There is also some description of sex between other characters.
Rating: NC17 for sexual situations and violence.
Disclaimer: The X-Men and Alpha Flight belong to Marvel. The movie belongs to Fox. Belarus is an independent country and belongs to its citizens, mutant and otherwise. Bryn Mawr is a private women's college founded in 1885. It belongs to the women, mutant and otherwise, who have learned and lived there over the past 116 years. I do feel like Scott and Logan are a little bit mine since I've been borrowing them for so long.
Notes on literature in the stories: A separate literature guide will be posted after the stories themselves. It contains spoilers so should be read afterwards. Literature guides to the previous series are also posted on the dymphna.net site. Much thanks to Kate Bolin for archiving.
Notes on locations in the stories: Except in the first series, which all takes place at Xavier's school in Westchester, my characters move around a lot. All of the locations, save one, are genuine and described as realistically as I can manage. I have been to some, but not all of them. The one invented location is one I was stuck with by Marvel - there is no town in Westchester County called Salem Center, although there is a North Salem.
Acknowledgements: Much thanks to SW and LS, who beta read these stories. They provided many suggestions and corrections, improving them greatly.

I thought he'd call or email after a while. Sulk a little first, sure. He was entitled. Because I left him like that, without saying anything, and because of some of the stuff I'd done before. But I figured he'd get over it. He had the other times. I wasn't so worried.

I was busy, anyway. There's limits to what we can do outside once it turns cold, but there's lots of work to do in the house itself. Plus there was plenty of planning to do for when the ground thawed. And plenty of preparation. Working with Wendy and Arthur is good - they have the experience and the skills we need. And the mutant powers - she's telekinetic and he has superhuman strength. We're going to need both of those to do a major redesign and construction job with a skeleton crew. They're so damned opinionated, though. Her, especially. So we'd end up arguing assorted design and construction points for days on end. Usually ended up with a solution better than any of us started off with, though. Have to give them that.

Kind of an adjustment having the baby around. And is she ever around! She's always with them. I was surprised when they said they didn't want a separate room, or even separate bed, for April. Tried suggesting a few times that Wendy might want to take April somewhere else while we were meeting on design - figured I could avoid baby noise and Wendy's opinions at the same time. But that didn't go over too well. They just brought in a few toys and she would play on the floor. Climb up on Arthur to cuddle, on Wendy to cuddle or nurse. I thought babies graduated to bottles by that age, but what do I know? Seems they took her everywhere with them when they lived in Vermont, too. Most of why they had their own business, so they could keep the baby with them. Well, good thing they were all together and away from home when their house got firebombed, anyway.

Jean-Paul didn't seem too thrilled about the baby, either. Got it all wrong on why, though. I tried to tell him they were a package deal and April and the noise and diapers were the price we paid for getting Arthur and Wendy. He got all quiet for a while and then he told me that he didn't mind the noise or the smells. That he liked being around babies and children, usually, and he would adjust after a while. April just reminded him of his own little girl, who was the same age when she died. Didn't know he'd had a kid. Lots of questions to ask, but I didn't. He didn't seem like he wanted to talk about it.

So, anyway, I was keeping busy but I'd still think about him sometimes. Think it might be him when the phone rang, looked for an email from him. Nothing. Well, not nothing. There were emails, sent to all of us and from the cyclops@mutant.org address. Keeping us posted on what was going on in Westchester. Offering assistance of different kinds. Asking and answering questions. Yeah, Cyclops, Field leader of the X-Men was in evidence. In my inbox, in occasional phone calls to check on how we were doing. But no sign of Scott, my friend. My lover.

I saw a glimpse of him once, though. I woke up thinking about him, late at night. Later where he was but I thought I'd try calling. He answered all business but when he heard it was me he got kind of soft-like and concerned there, for a minute. "Are you okay, Logan?" he asked, in the old Scott voice. "The nightmares aren't back, are they?" Maybe I should have lied and said they were, just to hear him sound like he cared a little longer. But I didn't.

"No, Scott. No nightmares. Just thinking, wondering if you ever figured out how to do a blow job over the phone. And you know how you get a question in your head sometimes in the middle of the night? And you just can't sleep until it's answered? So, I figured I'd call and ask. If you're not sure if you can do it, you could try it out on me and I'll tell you how it goes."

He didn't say anything for a long time. Then he just said, "I don't think that's a good idea." I heard another voice behind him somewhere and then his voice, answering, muffled, "No, it's okay. I don't have to go anywhere. It's someone from the Saskatchewan project. I'll be done soon."

Well, if you want someone with heightened senses not to hear you, you should learn to use a mute button and not a hand on the receiver. Told him so. "I'm sorry, Logan," he said, and he sounded like he meant it. "I don't see well in the dark - couldn't find the mute button." And then "Just a minute." Must have gone into the bathroom. Running the water in the sink so he wouldn't be overheard.

"Logan, I don't think that phone sex is a good idea. Good for either of us. It would just feel like something's there that isn't any more, you know?"

"I guess I was thinking - hoping - that there still was something there. I'm still hot for you, Scott. I still think about you."

"I still think about you, too, Logan, but I really think it's better for both of us if we try not to think about each other. I'm not mad at you, really. Hey, I know what happened was at least as much my fault. Probably more. I was way out of line with what I said about you and Oliver. I know you wouldn't compromise your principles. I wasn't thinking of him as the kid he is, just a guy you were keeping there when I was going home. I should have known you wouldn't have lost sight of who and what he is."

"It's okay, Scott. I understand. I just kind of sprung it on you that he was staying. You weren't thinking clearly."

"That's not all there is to it, though. The whole thing wouldn't have happened if I'd been honest with Oliver, honest with the team here. I'm trying to repair some of the damage I've done, Logan. I've got a lot of work to do, and you helped me get started on it. So, thanks."

"Well, if you want to show your gratitude, phone sex is a nice way to say thanks, you know."

"No, Logan. Look, it was probably a mistake what we did last time you were here. I don't know - it might have been okay to have a last time to remember. I do know that I just can't take it any more. I can't be just one of a bunch of nobodies. I can't be the guy you fuck on your last night here who just wakes up to find you gone. Not any more."

"I'm sorry, Scott. Can't you forgive me? I forgave you."

"I do forgive you, really I do. I'm not mad any more - I meant it when I said it. But it still hurts. I just can't leave myself open like that, again. I loved you a lot, Logan. Loved you a long time. And I know I was too concerned about people finding out about me, that sometimes that got in the way of being honest about us. But just between you and me I was very honest, you know I was. Honest and open and easy to hurt. There was so much that was good in what we had. I hope to get to a point where I can look back on that fondly, without it hurting. But I'm not there yet. I'm not anywhere near there. Sex with you - real or phone - would just make it harder and longer getting there."

"Who's waiting for you, Scott? Who's in your bed?"

"Don't take this the wrong way - I don't mean to offend - but that really isn't any of your business. Not any more. Logan, it's a hard adjustment for me. Maybe for you, too. You were my lover; you were my best friend. And now you're my colleague and that's all it is. It's going to take me time to get comfortable with that. I don't want to confuse things, confuse myself by talking to you about things like that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I was just curious. Same as with the blow job phone thing. Sorry. I guess I shouldn't bother you with my curiosity in the middle of the night. It used to be okay to call without a good reason. I can understand that it isn't now, but I didn't think. Like you said, it's an adjustment."

So we said goodbye. I jerked off thinking about that last time with him. "Fingers clutching," just like that poem. Feeling his whole body under me, his head turned to the side, my tongue in his ear. Pushing hard inside his ass, listening to him panting and moaning his need for me. His love for me.

Wondered what he was doing now, if he was talking to that guy there like he used to talk to me. Doing with him what he used to do with me. I knew what he meant about getting hurt. When you really love somebody he can hurt you ways you never dreamed of.

After a while I figured there wasn't much point trying to get back to sleep. I got up and got to work.

I sat there for a long time, hand on the phone, itching to call him back. I wanted so much to just take it all back, to tell him I'd give him whatever he wanted, whatever I had to give. If he'd said "I love you" I know I would have. Hell, if he'd said "I still want to be your friend," I would have. Anything to indicate that he cared, that calling me wasn't just the consequence of not having anyone else available in the middle of the night. I'd gladly spend the rest of the night on the phone with him, weaving fantasies, using my voice and my words to make him come again and again, thousands of miles away from me. And never mind Warren waiting for me in bed.

Warren. I went back to bed quietly, in case he had fallen asleep again, but he was awake and waiting. Put his arms around me, kissed me on the mouth. It was almost like a dream holding him, stroking the soft feathers of his wings, folded onto his back now. Years ago it had been a dream, a recurring one that I hoped and prayed he'd never know I had. How odd, after all that time of longing to touch him, that I could now. Odder still that now that I finally could - now that I'd finally had him, felt those wings beating under me - I wished it were someone else in my arms.

"What was that all about?" he asked, in between kisses, holding my ass now, pressed hard against me. I didn't answer right away. He took his hands off of me and moved back a little, looking right at me, questions in his eyes. "It wasn't business, was it?"

"No, not really. He is on the Saskatchewan project - he's heading it up. You don't know him. He was an X-Man for about two minutes, and long after you left."

"So he's with Alpha Flight now? Is he Canadian?"

"Yes, he's Canadian, but no, he isn't with Alpha Flight. He's sort of neutral. He's got ties to both teams - ours because he worked with us briefly, Alpha Flight because he's a friend of Mac Hudson's. But he doesn't really belong to either group - he's just doing this one assignment. He's not much of a joiner."

"And what is he to you?" Again I didn't say anything right away. "Hey, Scott, you can tell me. Things haven't changed between us, have they? We're still friends, right? I know what this is" - gesturing to himself and then to me - "and what it isn't. It was good, real good." Warren reached to stroke my cock, started to make me hard again. "I'd like to do it again. But it's no romance. It's just us: Angel and Cyclops, like always. You can tell me about your boyfriend. I'm not going to be jealous."

"He's not my boyfriend and I wasn't worried you'd be jealous, Warren. You made it clear you just wanted to see what it's like. Not the reaction I anticipated, by the way. I'm still really new at coming out to people and never know what to expect but I have to say your response was the most surprising yet. Now I wish I'd come out to you when we were in school. If I'd known that would be your reaction I sure would have. You can't imagine how often I jerked off thinking about you."

"I wish I had known. Or at least I like knowing that now. Can't vouch for how I would have reacted then, though. I don't know that I was so open-minded."

"Yeah, it's not a great age for being open-minded on this topic."

"Do your students know? Are they giving you a hard time?"

"Some are. I have really been trying to be more out, more honest. It's hard for me, for a variety of reasons. A few of the kids haven't taken it too well. I've had three boys switch to other advisors - I guess they don't want to be alone with me. Which is just so fucked up. None of the girls were afraid to have closed-door advisement sessions when they thought I was straight. Ah, well, I should really just be happy to be relieved of the work. I was advisor to more students than anybody else was. This equalizes it a bit."

"But it's lousy, Scott. You're a wonderful teacher and a great advisor."

"Thanks. Anyway, it's not all of them. And I like to think that there must be some gay kids who are benefiting from having an out teacher. Oh, and this one boy - Oliver. He was virulently homophobic when he got here and had a hard, hard time when he found out I'm gay - at least partly my fault since I hadn't come out to him and he found out by accident. So, it wasn't just me being gay but me having lied to him that was bothering him. But, anyway, I apologized for not being honest and he's really been working hard on overcoming this. We've been working on it together. And he stuck by me when those other kids transferred, so that felt good."

"Well, I give you credit for having the courage to come out after all this time. And, anyway, it gave me a chance to try something new with an old friend. I've been curious about being with a man. For a long time now."

"So, what's it like? What's your considered opinion now, as the voice of experience?"

"It's different - in a good way, in an interesting way. When you sucked me off before, it wasn't like a woman doing it at all. You knew what to do in a different kind of way. You understand a man's body the way a woman can't. I could tell when you're sucking me that you know what it feels like to have it done to you."

"Yeah, I give informed head." He laughed at that. "Are you okay about being fucked?" I asked him. "No regrets? I was surprised you asked for that. It's not something that men usually do the first time, you know. Fucking? Maybe. Being fucked? No."

"Gee, now you tell me. After I give up my virginity to you. Of a sort." This time I was the one laughing. "It felt really good. I thought it would hurt, but it didn't. Informed fucking, too, I suppose?" I nodded. "So, are you changing the subject to you and me because you don't want to talk about Mr. Canada? Hey, it's up to you. I'm sure we can think of other things to talk about, other things to do. " He put his arms around me again, kissed me briefly, then tried once more. He never could just let a topic drop. "It's still me, Scott. How many times have I confided in you about my lovers? With all the women I've told you about, you could tell me what's going on with this one man. I know when to keep my mouth shut."

"I'm not worried about that. I just don't know what to say about Logan. We were very close for a while. We were friends; we were lovers. It didn't work out. It was kind of an odd relationship, I guess. We didn't know each other very well when we first started having sex. We were really hot for each other, but we're so different - in temperament, interests. And just ways of dealing with people. So, maybe it was kind of doomed from the start.

"So, what to say? An old and boring story and nothing particularly distinctive about it. I loved him so much. Not wisely, but too well. He didn't love me. Or maybe he did - I don't know. Certainly not like I loved him. I'll get over it. I'm still kind of raw, though, feeling a little wounded. And talking to him just now brought up a lot of those feelings."

"Anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"Yeah. Turn over."

It was so different than with Logan. I was fucking him, not being fucked, which made for a significant difference. On top of him, pushing my dick into his ass, my hand stroking him like Logan used to do me. And then there were the wings - lovely to feel them under me, just kind of soft and fluttery. Then beating harder when he got close to coming, and suddenly pushing way up and out as he came, so that I had to push down hard with my whole body just to stay on him and in him.

And there was the whole dimension of using condoms. I'd never needed to with Logan and didn't even have any. When he'd asked me to fuck him, I told him that I didn't think we should do it unprotected. But Warren had taken a couple of condoms out of his wallet, commenting that I had been the Boy Scout but he was the one who was always prepared. I laughed and reminded him of the time a condom had fallen out of his wallet in physics class when he was paying me back some money he had borrowed. We were all sure that Charles was totally scandalized, although he hadn't said anything but, "Mr. Worthington? I believe you dropped something."

That element was different, too. Just the whole experience of sex with an old friend, with someone I had all that history with. Like with Jean, a little, but different, too. Different because he's a man, different because we hadn't seen each other for a long time, different because the two of us had talked about sex for years and years (even though I'd mostly lied to him, at least about what I wanted to do). It lent an air of intimacy and camaraderie to the friendship that made the first time not seem so strange or new in some ways.

The big difference, though, was just that he wasn't Logan. Fucking Warren felt wonderful but I wanted to be with Logan. My mind kept straying back to his voice on the phone, to imagining him in his room in that big old house. I had to work hard on staying in the present moment, keeping my mind on Warren. I was moving hard and fast now, talking to him a little, kissing and nibbling the back of his neck. He was so tight and I was loving moving in and out of him. I hadn't done this to a man for years and it felt great. I drifted back to Logan for a minute there, wondering if he would have let me fuck him if I'd ever asked. No, concentrate on Warren. I took hold of both of his hands and pushed into him as hard as I could, again and again. He was saying "Yes, Scott" and "Just like that" and pretty soon I was coming deep inside him, still holding his hands. I didn't let go right away, just lying there on his back, his wings moving softly under me, catching my breath. Then I pulled out, careful of the condom.

Went back to the bathroom to get rid of it. Saw the cordless phone there where I'd forgotten it. I picked it up, itching again to call him. And say what? "I just fucked an old friend I'd had a crush on all through high school. I've had more wet dreams about Warren than I've had hot meals in my life and finally I get to do him and I still can't get my mind off of you." No, I think not. I took the phone back to the bedroom and put it in its cradle.

I went back to bed, noticing that Warren was asleep now. I put my arms around him and he snuggled into me in his sleep. Holding him felt so different than holding Logan. I missed the feel of the metal inside, felt like I needed it. I'd become so accustomed to the force and the weight of the adamantium in Logan that Warren's body seemed light and almost insubstantial by comparison.

I glanced at the clock. No point thinking about calling Logan. He was surely asleep by now. Me, I just couldn't go to sleep. I got out of bed and sat in the big armchair, legs drawn up close to me, arms round them, head on my knees. Thought about Logan, my mind on that "zealous pilgrimage". Tried to figure out when I could call Saskatchewan, when I could go there even, without it seeming like I was going for him and not the project. Wondered a little whether I was trying to fool him or myself. Finally I gave up on sleeping, thinking: "Lo, thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind, For thee, and for myself, no quiet find." I wondered if Logan was finding quiet, wondered when I would again.

I pulled on some sweats. Left a note for Warren saying I was in my office and I'd see him at breakfast. If I couldn't sleep, there were always papers to grade, lectures to prepare, endless paperwork. I might as well get up and get to work.

"X-Men du nord. Can I help you?"

"Cute, Jean-Paul. But not exactly in the joint project spirit, huh?"

"Oh, Scott. I wasn't expecting you. Mac was supposed to be calling me back. For you I would have answered 'Alpha Flight, Western Division' or some such."

"Just torturing the folks back home?"

"There's not a lot to entertain oneself with here, Scott. It's a little remote. We keep busy - plenty of work to do - but just the same..."

"Well, I suppose we can take it if it keeps you amused. Do you think you need a break, though? Do you want me to rotate someone else in?"

"No, actually, I was mostly teasing. It's easiest for me, really. When I'm free in the evenings, I can go pretty much anywhere. Flight and super-speed come in handy. And Wendy and Arthur are so absorbed in each other and the baby that I don't think it's that hard on them. It's Logan who's having a rough time, really. Although I think that's less about being in a remote location and more about breaking up with you. I hope I'm not overstepping, here."

"I don't know. I'm not sure I want to talk about it. I do appreciate that you're speaking out of genuine concern, though, and not just idle curiosity."

"It's up to you. Talk if you want - tell me to shut up if you want. But I do think he's taking it pretty hard. Is it totally over between you two?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I think so. Too much has happened. Both of us said and did things we can't really undo."

"Can't undo? Or can't recover from? I don't know, Scott. Speaking as a fairly neutral observer, it really seems like you two were good for each other. Everybody makes mistakes. Maybe you need to forgive each other and move on. Together."

"Thanks for the advice."

"Is that a polite, friendly, Cyclops way of saying 'Shut up, Jean-Paul, you have no idea what you're talking about'?"

"Maybe a little... Jean-Paul? When you say he's not doing well, what do you mean? Has he said anything to you about being unhappy? Anything about me?"

"Ha! Logan? No way. He just mopes around, looking daggers at anyone who talks to him. Barely speaks. Well, that part's not so unusual for him. But it just seems like all the joy has drained out of him. Nothing interests him. He hardly seems to even have fun fighting with Wendy lately, and I would have sworn that was his chief joy in life until the other day. Did something happen a few days ago?"

"He called me and it didn't go too well, I guess. Jean-Paul, it's actually Logan I was trying to get hold of. I'm returning his call. Is he around?"

"Where else would he be? I'll get him."

"Hi, Scott. Sorry about the other night."

"That's okay. You called?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to worry. It's not personal. Project-related."

"Logan? I'm sorry, too. You should be able to talk to me about personal stuff. I hope you will be able to sometime. Not sex, maybe, but other things. I want to get back to being friends on some level. At some point. If we can. I'm just not there yet."

"Well, I did wonder why Jeannie gets to be your friend and I don't."

"I guess because Jean's a much stronger person than I am, Logan. She managed to go from being lovers to friends right away. I hurt her a lot, you know. And she didn't pretend it didn't hurt, but she kind of rose above it. Like I said, she's really strong. I hope to get to that point. Anyway, what did you call about?"

"I'm worried about Jean-Paul. He seems to be having a hard time dealing with Arthur and Wendy. Well, not really them, but the baby. He said it's because his own daughter died when she was the same age. I didn't know he even had a kid... Scott, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm still here. Just kicking myself, which I guess isn't loud enough to hear long distance. I can't believe I was so insensitive! I didn't even think of Joanne. Fuck! Logan, I am so sorry. Sorry to have stuck Jean-Paul in that situation without warning him I was sending a family with a baby the age Joanne was when she died. And sorry to have stuck you with managing the situation without even having the relevant information."

"Hey, you can't think of everything. Anyway, I'm just seeking advice. You're better on this interpersonal shit. He says he'll be okay with it, but I'm not sure. It's kind of close quarters up here. It's just the four of us - well, five counting the baby - and we're together all the time. I'm thinking it's going to be a long winter."

"I can see that. Do you think it would help if there were more people there? Or would that make it worse?"

"I don't know. It might make it a little easier, just sort of dilute some of the tension. I wouldn't want a lot - we'd have to make sure there's work for everybody. But maybe if we were ten instead of five? And, about Jean-Paul, do you want to talk to him about the baby? Maybe he'd tell you more about how he feels."

"Maybe, although he hasn't said a word to me. Shit! I can't believe I didn't even think of Joanne. Anyway, thanks for telling me. Charles and 'Ro and I are meeting later today about your project. I'll bring up the Jean-Paul thing and the idea of adding a few more residents. Would you want to come down here? You could meet prospective homesteaders again... Logan, are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. If I came down there, Scott, what would it be like? You and me, I mean. Would you give me something to do in the night?"

"No, Logan. I'm sorry."

"I think about you a lot, Scott. Not just about fucking you. I do miss that. A lot. But that's not all. You're not just one of a bunch of nobodies. You never were. You were always somebody to me. I did pay attention to you... You're not saying anything."

"I don't know what to say."

"You have somebody else now, right? You in love with him?"

"I really don't want to talk about this with you. But, no, I'm not in love with anybody else. Look, Logan - I'll talk to Charles and 'Ro. And then we can figure out where to go with the project. I'll call you later."

We met in Charles's office. He and 'Ro were already there when I arrived, apologizing for my tardiness, explaining that I'd had trouble escaping from a couple of kids from my poetry class. Charles smiled at that and said that that class seems to attract the most enthusiastic students. "We don't mind waiting," he added. "Student needs come first." Then, turning solemn, he said, "Besides, Ororo has been filling me in on the latest news from Belarus."

"What have you heard, 'Ro? Were you able to make contact with any mutants there?"

"No, I'm afraid not, although I've tried a few times to call or email. I was just telling Charles what I heard on the news. The city of Minsk has been declared to be 'mutant-free'. They are calling what they're doing 'mutant cleansing' now."

We all sat there for a couple of minutes in silence, thinking about those phrases and what they had meant in the past. "Erik will tell me next time I visit him that this proves he's right, you know. I wish we knew what's really going on there, what's happening to the mutants they find."

"And how those who are still in hiding are doing, too," I added. "Keep trying, 'Ro. I wish Pyotr were here. I'm pretty sure he knows people in Minsk, in the Belarussian government. Even if not, I think he'd get farther seeking information in Russian than we would in English. Charles, you haven't heard from him lately, have you? Last time I tried calling, I got someone who spoke very little English but seemed not to have heard of him."

Charles and 'Ro both said they hadn't heard from Pyotr in months. We mused a little more about the Belarus situation, wondering if it would stay a localized phenomenon or spread to nearby countries. Charles ended our mournful speculations by recommending that I fill him and 'Ro in on the latest news from the Saskatchewan project.

I explained to Charles and 'Ro that Logan and Jean-Paul had each expressed concerns about the other's emotional state. Described at length the presumed source of Jean-Paul's distress, with much self-flagellation for not having considered this ahead of time.

'Ro hadn't known Jean-Paul when he adopted Joanne, so Charles told the whole story of her brief life. Jean-Paul, of course, knew that she was HIV+ at birth but he had hoped that she would turn out to be healthy, since half of all prenatally exposed babies turn out to sero-convert negative within six months. And, even after that, he just hoped that treatment would be effective for her. So, he'd certainly known fairly early that he had a baby with a life-threatening illness but he was in no way reconciled to her eventual death, much less death at eighteen months. He had so loved that little girl. No wonder it was hard seeing healthy, precocious April. And, just in general, Jean-Paul was someone who loved kids, always wanted to be a parent. His chances of adopting again now that he was out both as a gay man and a mutant were pretty much nil.

I also told the two of them that Jean-Paul said Logan seemed not to be doing well, although I glossed over the presumed reason, leaving the impression that it was the close quarters and limited recreational outlets that were the problem. I did say that I thought it was interesting, and probably good, that they were each concerned about the other. It suggested that the group was pretty cohesive so far. With such a small group in so remote and intimate a setting it would not be surprising if two members were complaining about each other rather than expressing concern. So, the good news was that they were worried about each other, not killing each other. The bad news was that they seemed to have reason to worry, that out of five people two were already in not-great shape.

"I'm afraid it's more than two," Charles said. "I'll see you your Logan and Jean-Paul and raise you an Arthur. I got a call this morning from Heather Hudson. She says Wendy is very worried about Arthur. Apparently he is blaming himself for the loss of their home in Vermont and has been quite depressed."

"Why would Wendy tell Heather about this?" I asked.

"They're old friends," he replied. "They were at school together. That's how Wendy and Arthur heard about us in the first place. When they were found out to be mutants in their little town, Wendy called Heather, who recommended they come here. But Arthur wanted to stick it out and see if the townspeople could get over their hostility. They ended up having to flee with pretty much just the clothes on their backs. So, I'm sure he's regretting not leaving earlier, when they could have taken some of their things and avoided the trauma and violence of their departure. Still, it was a generous and good impulse that led him to think well of their neighbors. It's unfortunate if he's blaming himself for that."

"It might also have been because it was his actions that revealed them as mutants in the first place," said Ororo. "Although, again, he was only acting out of the best motives. And he saved that child's life."

"What child? How did he blow their cover?" I had been away when Wendy and Arthur came to Westchester and hadn't heard the story.

"There was a car accident in their town in Vermont. A car hit a little boy on a bicycle," 'Ro went on to explain. "Arthur was just walking by at the time, had the baby in the sling. The child was pinned under the car, so Arthur lifted it. And, thinking it wasn't a good idea to move an injured person, he held it up for a while and then just kind of pushed it out of the way, keeping it off of the little boy. Not exactly something a normal human could do."

"If there is any better way to reveal one's mutant status, I can't imagine what it is," Charles said sadly. "No wonder he thought the townspeople would adjust. All the more tragic to lose their home, their livelihood, their roots after that act of heroism."

"Oh, yes. He should be blessed for being one who loves his fellow men, not punished for it."

Charles smiled a little. "Are you teaching Abou Ben Adhem?" he asked.

I nodded. "But get this - I asked the class why, in the list of those blessed by God, Abou Ben Adhem's led all the rest. Jubilee called out 'alphabetical order'." They both laughed. "Anyway," I added, "I think we can truly say that we have a problem up there. Three out of five people are apparently in poor emotional states."

'Ro laughed at that. "I know this isn't really funny," she said, "but sometimes you just have to laugh. It's not three, Scott. It's four. Arthur called yesterday and asked if I'd consider coming back to Saskatchewan. He feels that it's very hard on Wendy being the only woman there and that she's feeling lonely and stressed out."

At that point I was just about ready to tear out my hair. "Okay," I said. "I'm just warning you. If anyone tells me that baby April called to say she's worried about someone up there, I'm giving up on the whole damn project."

Wendy was on the bed, pillows propped behind her, nursing April. Arthur walked in quietly and closed the door. "She asleep?" he asked softly, looking down at his daughter, stroking her fine brown hair a little.

"Not quite, but getting there. Sorry I missed the rest of the meeting but she was just not settling. I thought she'd do better without distractions. She's just all over Jean-Paul lately. Have you noticed? As soon as he comes into a room she toddles over to him."

"Yeah, but he doesn't seem exactly thrilled by the attention. Although I do think he's warming up to her. Maybe he's just not used to being around babies. Well, if she's got to develop a crush on somebody, better Jean-Paul than Logan. He seems to think children are some other species entirely."

Wendy laughed at that and asked him what happened after she left. "Sounds like we're in some kind of trouble," he said, but his smile suggested he didn't mean it. "We're getting a visit from the Home Office - a One-Eye once over."

"Cyclops is coming here? How come?"

"I'm not sure. Logan was really vague about it. Maybe he doesn't know. Just checking on us, seeing how we're doing, what we need - that's what he said, anyway."

"He calls all the time. You'd think he'd have a good sense of what's going on here. There must be more to it. Logan didn't say anything else?"

"Well, he said they are thinking of sending more people up here in the near term, so that might be part of it. Maybe Scott wants to get a sense of how many they could send or who would fit in. Oh, and he is bringing someone with him - a former X-Man, code name Angel."

"I think I know him. Is his real name Warren Worthington? Flies, but not like Jean-Paul? Has actual wings?"

"No one said what his real name is but Jean-Paul said he has wings. I don't think Logan's ever met him. How do you know him? And don't tell me it's a Bryn Mawr connection."

"If you don't want me to tell you, I won't tell you. Here I am, not telling you that a woman down the hall from me at Russian House went out with him for a while."

"Is there any man - or woman, for that matter - alive that has not gone out with you or someone else in the Mawrter mutant underground? I swear, Wen, someday they are going to find intelligent life elsewhere in the universe. I'm going to be watching on TV while they show the first pictures of this alien being and I'll holler to you to come quickly so you don't miss it. And you'll just look at him/her/it and tell me that one of the women in your dorm dated him/her/it for a while."

Wendy laughed again. "There were a few of us. And some of them dated a lot. Not me, of course. I was saving myself for you."

Arthur snorted at that. "So tell me about this Angel guy. You think it's the same one?"

"Got to be. I know he was an X-Man, although it was supposed to be a huge secret, of course. He's Warren Worthington III, oldest son of Worthington Industries. So, he's rich. And smart. And really gorgeous, if you like them tall, thin and Byronic. Diana was crazy about him."

"Sounds like Diana wasn't the only one."

"Nah, not my type. 'Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind', you know. He was kind of fun, but a little too aristocratic for my tastes; a little too sure that everyone would be as impressed with his name and position as he was. Besides," she added, "I like a different look in men, anyway. Somewhat more substantial-looking. And hairier - all over." He frowned slightly. "Well, head hair is optional." The smile returned. "Construction experience is essential - that's a real turn on. And, most importantly, he's got to have a dick that curves slightly to the left when erect."

Arthur leaned over, moved Wendy's long hair out of the way, and kissed her. Wendy kissed him back and said, "I think she's asleep now." Stuck her finger in April's mouth to break the suction and unlatch her, waited a minute and said, "Yeah, she's out," wrapping a blanket around her.

"Do you want me to put her in her nest?" Arthur asked.

"No, I'll do it." April, wrapped in the blanket and sleeping soundly, rose into the air and floated gently to the "nest" on the floor - a large, soft, round cushion. Arthur had bought it from a catalogue of pet supplies where it was being sold as a dog bed. He and Wendy had been amused by Logan's perplexed reaction to the nest and to the information that it was for their daughter, not a dog. "She sleeps there?" he had asked. Wendy said that mostly April slept with them but sometimes she napped on the nest. He hadn't looked any less confused by that explanation.

With April settled in the nest, Arthur leaned over and kissed Wendy again, slowly. He reached into her shirt, still unbuttoned, and started stroking her right breast, feeling the nipple get hard as he touched it. He shifted position, moving down a little to kiss her other breast, licking around the reddish brown areola and then sucking on the nipple. He got a little milk in his mouth, swallowed it and told her it tasted good.

"I'm so glad you're not one of those men who think the milk is a turn off."

"Just the opposite," he said, smiling. "I agree with Heinlein that the most attractive breasts are the baby-chewed ones."

"Arthur, you are the only man in the world who quotes Heinlein in bed."

"I had no idea your experience was so vast, Wen. Or is this based on the amalgamation of your experience and all of the Mawrter mutant underground?"

"Shut up and kiss me again."

He did, sucking her tongue into his mouth, reaching between her legs to stroke, feeling that she had nothing on besides the big shirt. Tugged gently on her lips, moved a finger around but not directly on her clit. Slipped a couple of fingers into her cunt, then pulled them back out, wet and warm, to stroke some more. She held on to his head, running her fingers through his hair as they kissed, moving her hips to get the friction she needed. She could feel him hard against her but the clothes were in the way.

Unbuttoning his jeans telekinetically she rolled him onto his back and climbed on top of him, without stopping the kiss. Holding his hard cock in her hand now, she moved it back and forth across her warm wet opening, up to her clit, back down.

Wendy stopped kissing Arthur and sat up, straddling him, still holding his cock. She lowered herself onto him, guiding him into her with her hand. "Mmm" he said. "That feels good," as she started moving up and down on him.

"Put your hands here," she said, holding both of her breasts, and he reached up and did just that. He played with the nipples a little, telling her again how he loved looking at her breasts, touching them. She put her own hand on her clit and rubbed herself as she rode up and down on him, steadying herself with her other hand behind her, anchored on his thickly muscled thigh. She closed her eyes and concentrated on what she was doing and feeling, moving faster now. Hearing Arthur talking to her, loving the feel of him in her and under her, rubbing and riding faster and harder until she came, her cunt squeezing him in waves of contractions. With him still inside, she lay down on top of him. He held her by the hips with large, strong hands and moved her up and down, breathing hard now, until he was coming, too, saying her name as he did. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes and then she rolled off of him but stayed near, cuddled up.

"So, why do you think Scott and Warren are coming here?" she said, after a while.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask one of your Mawrter friends, since they know everything?"

"Don't knock the Bryn Mawr connection, Arthur. If it weren't for Heather having been at Bryn Mawr we wouldn't even be here, you know." Then, after a minute, "It's a good thing we're here, isn't it? Most of the time?"

"Mmm hmmm. It's great to be here, when I think of the alternatives. I bet those mutants in Belarus are wishing they had somewhere to escape to like we did. I'm just sorry I didn't listen to you and agree to leave earlier."

"Don't be sorry. I think we did the right thing. If we hadn't stayed, we'd always have wondered if we could have. Anyway, I could call Heather and see if she knows what Cyclops is coming here for. Hey, maybe it's just an excuse and he really wants to see Logan. They used to be lovers, you know. Maybe he wants to get back together again."

"Logan and Scott - lovers? Really? He doesn't seem the type."

"Which one?"

"Well, both of them, I guess, but I meant Logan. I would have said he was 100% straight." And then, after a pause, "Are you telling me I'm the only straight man here?"

She chuckled at that. "Yeah, I guess so. Does it make you nervous? Anyway, you'll have Warren here soon. According to Diana he was pretty actively heterosexual, at least in college. She said there's nothing like sex with wings. Not that I was paying that much attention, mind you, since he's not my type. Anyway, you can pull him aside and ask him to hang out with you and talk about whatever straight white guys talk about when they're bonding."

"Oh, I'm sure that would go over really well. 'Hi, you must be Warren. I'm Arthur and I'm heterosexual. Want to hang out?' God, I should try it just to see what happens."

"I dare you."

"Okay, right after you tell him that you hear there's nothing like winged sex." He paused a minute and then said, "Logan and Scott? Really?"

"I got it from Heather and you know the Mawrter mutant underground knows everything."

"She's not even a mutant, Wen."

"Well, she's an honorary mutant. She's the only normal human who knew about us. Little did we know that we were preparing her for her future career letting her in our crowd. Anyway, I'm sure she's right about Scott and Logan. She spent time with them when they were together. She said she was sorry to hear they broke up - she thought they were really good together. It is a little hard to picture. Well, I find it hard to picture just about anybody with Logan - he's so contrary."

"It's only you he fights with, so maybe you're the contrary one."

"Shut up, Arthur," she said again and snuggled in closer.

We arrived late at night. Having another driver with me, I was able to do the trip in one day, not being stuck with doing the driving portions during daylight hours. I do try to avoid night-driving on safety grounds, generally. I also know that my chances of going into a car rental office at night and coming out with a car are pretty much nil. As it is, they look at me strangely when I don't take my glasses off inside during the day. But Warren had no trouble renting a car at the airport in Regina. Well, none except for the usual discomfort of having his wings bound tightly enough that they don't show under clothes.

We pulled out of the rental parking lot and drove a little way, stopping by the side of a dark road. Once we were parked there, Warren pulled off his outer clothes and untied his wings, letting them free, bending and flexing them. I rubbed his back a little. "Does that help?" I asked.

"Up a little higher. That's good. I feel it in the shoulders and neck, mostly. I can't believe I used to go out like that all the time. Now I can barely stand it even for short periods."

"That's kind of how I feel about being in the closet." I kept rubbing his shoulders, bending down a bit to kiss and lick him on the back of the neck. He reached back to touch my leg when I did that, moaning a little. Then he turned around and kissed me, sliding his tongue across the roof of my mouth. I kept rubbing his shoulders, kissing him back, sucking on his tongue now.

We kissed for a while. Then he pulled away and looked at me, kind of an amused smile on his face. "You know, I used to be jealous of you and Jean," he said. "I was so pissed when she started dating you. I tried to get her to go out with me a few times, but she always turned me down. Once I asked her what you had that I don't. 'He's the best kisser', she said." He just looked at me for a minute, smiling. "I think she was right."

We kissed some more. I took my hands off of his shoulders and put one hand on his crotch, feeling his hard cock pushing against the pants. I unzipped him and started stroking up and down, still kissing him, stroking his wings gently with the other hand. His hands were on the back of my head now, stroking my hair, pulling a little.

When I pulled away, he tried to pull my head back to his mouth. "No," I told him. "I want your cock in my mouth now." I bent down and put my tongue on the slit, tasting his pre-cum. Then licked up and down the shaft before taking him in my mouth, moving up and down on him, taking him in deeper each stroke. "Oh, Scott," he kept saying, hands in my hair again.I took him all the way in when he came, but pulled back a little before he was done, just to keep the taste of him in my mouth.

He leaned on the steering wheel afterwards, catching his breath, wings starting to fold onto his back after pushing out hard as he came. "Hey, Warren," I said. "I don't think I'm going to be comfortable having sex with you at the outpost. I don't know if you thought we would or anything, but I just thought I'd mention it. It would feel a little too weird for me, I think, with Logan there."

"Is it really over between you two, Scott?" he asked. "It sounds like you're not so sure."

"Oh, it's over. I'm just still getting used to it. I think he is, too. I just think it would be confusing. And, I don't know, embarrassing I guess, if I'm having sex with somebody else right down the hall from him, the first time I see him after we broke up."

"Okay, your call. But blow jobs by the side of the road are okay? So, if I get really horny I should ask you if you want to go for a drive?" He reached over to kiss me again, but I was laughing too hard. Jean-Paul had waited up for us. He said that he thought Wendy and Arthur were asleep. He wasn't sure whether Logan was in. Logan had gone out earlier, Jean-Paul said, but he had been out flying for a while and Logan might have returned while he was gone. I couldn't help wondering where Logan had gone and whether he was back now. I tried not to let it show, just saying we would catch up with everyone in the morning.

We went upstairs and Jean-Paul showed us to our rooms. I was in Oliver's old room. Northstar mentioned that Logan had suggested putting me there, saying he thought I'd like it because it was full of books. Warren was at the other end of the hall, next to Logan.

I got into bed but couldn't sleep. I tried to convince myself it was because I had napped on the plane. I really wanted to go knock on Logan's door, but didn't. Turned on the light and looked over the books on the shelves. It seemed like a good time for something escapist.

I picked up Scaramouche, pleased to see it there, reflecting on the fact that I hadn't read it since high school. Just looking at the cover brought back memories of being a confused kid, inserting myself into the story, happy to imagine myself as a swashbuckling, sword-wielding hero. And here I was a confused adult. Still trying to be a hero, albeit swordless.

I took the book downstairs, thinking I might feel more relaxed if I were farther from Logan's bedroom. I looked around a bit at the downstairs rooms. The house looked much more settled, much more lived in than last time I was here. There was some sort of furniture in most rooms. Holes in the walls, floors and ceiling had all been repaired. The heat seemed to be working better, too. I went into the living room - a large, long room with two big bay windows. Last I was here, it had had a couch and chair and was otherwise bare. Now it was set up with a meeting table with chairs at one end and two couches and a rocking chair over at the other end, by the fireplace. There were even pictures on the walls. It looked like a functional and comfortable room. I settled down on one of the couches and was lost in Sabatini's story within minutes.

I must have been really absorbed in the book, because I didn't hear Logan come in. I was sort of semi-reclining on the couch, a bunch of cushions behind me and my feet up and suddenly he was just there, standing over me. I motioned for him to sit down at the other end of the couch and he did.

"When'd you get in?" he asked.

I glanced at the clock on the mantle. "A couple of hours ago. Did you just get back?" He nodded. "Where have you been?"

He just kind of shrugged. "Out. Driving around. I get a little stir-crazy sometimes. Sorry I wasn't here to meet you, though. I didn't think you'd get here until tomorrow - didn't figure you'd drive at night."

I explained that Warren had done the driving.

"Oh, yeah. I didn't think of that. So, is that why you brought him? Chauffeur duty?"

"No, that's just a fringe benefit. Warren's kind of at loose ends right now. I asked him to come along for this trip - told him I thought he might be interested in what you're doing up here. My ulterior motive, which isn't all that ulterior, is I want him to rejoin the X-Men. We're kind of thin right now. You're up here - and, yes I know you were never really on the team," I hastened to add, seeing his expression, "but I had hopes. So shoot me. And, Pyotr is back in Russia and I really don't know if or when he's coming back. Hank is off on an extended mission for Charles. We're pretty short-staffed. I could use Warren."

"Why do I think you've been using Warren already? And not for the team?"

I could feel myself blushing, but tried to answer calmly. "It's not what you think, Logan. He's an old friend. And, anyway, as I've said before I don't really think this is something we should be discussing. I'm not asking you anything about your sex life."

"You can if you want. There's not much to tell."

Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. I stretched a little and my feet, still up on the couch, touched his leg. He looked at me as if asking permission and then picked up one foot and started massaging it. Then he did ask. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah, it feels good."

"Lots of things feel good, Scott. But you've made it clear some of them aren't okay any more. I'm just trying to figure out what the rules are here."

"I'm sorry, Logan. I don't have a rule book. I'm just making this up as I go along. I just want us to be comfortable with each other, able to work together. I don't know how to get there. What do you think?"

"Don't ask me. I still want it to be how it was with us. I think you're the best friend I ever had, that's what I think. And that we both did some stuff we wish we didn't. But I think we could get past that if we both wanted to. Only it seems like I want to and you don't."

"It's not that I don't want to. I just can't. I feel like too much has happened, too much has been said. It's beyond the point where we can recover from it, where we can get past it."

Logan shrugged. "Your choice." And then, after a pause, "Can we talk about some stuff that happened with us, though? I've been thinking a lot and I'm having trouble making sense of some of it."

I hesitated. "I'm not sure we should open up..." I started. And then didn't know how to finish the sentence.

"I'm not asking you to change your mind about anything. I'm just trying to understand some stuff. There are some things I need to ask."

"Go ahead," I told him. "I'll try to answer your questions."

"Well, I've been thinking about some things that happened with you and me. Remember when I was having such a tough time after I found out about the Weapon X stuff?" I nodded. "And I came to visit you and to hear about the professor's idea for a project? Scott, what you did for me then, it made all the difference. But I think about that night we were together, about fucking you over and over again. The sex was like a drug or something - taking me out of myself, giving me a break from what I couldn't face in my own brain. I don't know how to explain it, but I needed it like that, just then. I was so happy to have you, to have a friend who would give me what I needed. And you said lots of stuff to me that I'll always remember, really. But remember you told me that poem, the one about the soldier who wants only playthings?"

"Murmurings in a Field Hospital. I remember, Logan."

"You said you'd be my plaything. You said you were glad to. You meant it, didn't you?" I nodded again, watching him looking at me so intently. "Well, and then I think about the story you told me about the birthday party guy and the one you beat up. The three guys that cheated you. And called you a 'boy toy' and just treated you like a thing. And I want to kill them, really I do. I hate them. I hate what they did to you. But, do you understand where I'm going? Do you see what I don't get? Why was it okay to be my plaything? Was I doing to you what they did? What's the difference?"

I didn't answer at first. Closed my eyes, feeling those strong hands rubbing my feet, thinking about what he said and how to respond. "The difference is love, I think. And trust. No, you weren't doing what they did. Not at all. I wanted to give you mindless sex because that's what you needed right then and I loved you. And I trusted you to see that I was more than just a plaything, whenever you were ready to come out of that sex-to-forget state. It was okay. It was more than okay. I wanted to give you what you needed. I believed you'd do the same for me, Logan. Give me what I needed, I mean. You have given me what I needed. Lots of times."

"What do you need, Scott? What do you need now?"

"I need you," I wanted to say. Wanted to scream it. "I don't know any more," was what I really said.

"Is that Angel guy giving you what you need, Scott? Or what you want? It was him there the time I called you at night, wasn't it?"

"Yes it was." I just didn't have it in me to tell him again that it was none of his business. "But it's not like you're making it out to be. It's not like it was between you and me. He's a friend, since high school. He's straight, really. But he was curious and I was lonely. And horny. What did you say? 'Something to do in the night'. That's what it's like with him. And just company, too. It's not a big deal."

He kind of winced at that. Put my feet down in his lap and placed one hand on my thigh. Gave me one of those ironic smiles of his. "I haven't threatened to kill him once, Scott," he said. "Do you think that means I'm making progress? Or does it just show that I know you really aren't mine any more?" He said that last part sadly. He didn't say anything else for a while. Then, "When I asked you if you're in love with him, you said no. But you didn't just say no. You said you're not in love with anybody else. I thought about that 'anybody else' part afterwards, trying to figure out what it means. I think it means you're still in love with me. You're not done with me. Not done wanting me, anyway.

"And I don't understand why you're doing this - doing this to us both. I did some stuff that hurt you, I know it. I'm sorry for that. But you're just making both of us hurt more. It makes no sense to me. I hope it makes sense to you. But, I'm not going to argue with you any more. I'm not going to ask you any more. I still want you. I still want to be your friend, your lover. 'You want to have friends, you have to accept the fact that people aren't perfect'. You told me that. You ever decide to believe it, to live by it, well you know where I am." He got up and walked out of the room.

After I showed Warren and Scott to their rooms, I went to mine. Logan and I have the best bedrooms, I think. I guess that comes from being here first. Both great big rooms with beautiful views of the woods. I'm a little jealous of the fireplace in his, though. Well, he is in charge of the project. He also seems to have this aversion to being cold at night.

I had had fun furnishing my room. Wendy helped me strip and refinish the big sleigh bed I found at a junk shop in Prince Albert. It's my pride and joy - rich oak frame, big soft duvet, lots of pillows. I sleep on it, read on it, keep the community's books there, spreading bills and papers all around me with a lap desk for writing on. Kind of a big bed for one person, though.

It had been a long day and I was tired. Just pulled off my jeans and climbed into bed, cursing the single life a bit. I was feeling a little wistful. "Ou sont les neiges d'antan?" I said it aloud, looking out the window at the snows of today.

Thought for a while about Kolya. I hadn't thought about him for a long time, but with Belarus in the news he'd been on my mind. Not that he was in any danger. Might he be one of the ones putting others in danger? Mon dieu, that didn't bear thinking about.

I fell asleep thinking about it, anyway. Not for long, though. I woke up, hearing movement downstairs, and went to investigate. To my surprise, Mac was in the living room, sitting on the big couch in front of a roaring fire. "Mac, what are you doing here?"

He got up to greet me, saying, "Aren't you happy to see me?" holding his arms out to me. I found myself excited to see him, no longer surprised. And then, looking down a bit, he said, "I guess I know the answer to that question." I was suddenly painfully aware of how little I was wearing. But my embarrassment turned to surprise again as he put his arms around me and kissed me.

"Mac? What's going on?" I asked as he steered me towards the couch, kissing me, holding onto my ass.

"Don't tell me you don't want to, Jean-Paul." I couldn't tell him that. How had I worked for him for years without ever noticing just how sexy he is? I put my hands on those broad shoulders and kissed him back. Before I knew what was happening we both had our clothes off and I was lying on my back on the couch, with Mac lying on top of me, stroking my cock with one rough, callused hand, telling me he was dying to fuck me.

I pulled my legs back, over his shoulders. He had a hard time getting in at first. "Long time, Jean-Paul?" he asked, finally pushing in hard.

"Too long," I told him. And then "Mon dieu" again as he started moving, hitting that spot again and again with each hard stroke. I closed my eyes to just concentrate on the feeling. But when I opened them again, it wasn't Mac's face I saw but Kolya's. Big eyes, curly dark hair and that beautiful smile over me as he fucked me deep and hard. But somehow it was okay that it wasn't Mac any more.

"Ja Ciabie lublu" I said to Kolya, carefully, but probably pronouncing it wrong, anyway. He thrusted deep into me, coming hard inside, saying "Je t'aime, Jean-Paul," and then collapsing on top of me. I stroked his hair while he caught his breath. "As much as I hate the muties, Jean-Paul," he said. "That's how much I love you."

I woke up with a start. Not a good sign, that dream. When I find myself dreaming about sex with my straight married boss and an old mutant-hating boyfriend I think it's fair to say I've been alone too long.

Mommy. Milkie. Daddy. Hug. Jean-Paul. Fly.

Scott is on his knees in front of me. Sucking my cock. It feels great, feels like it never did with any of the women I've had. "Informed head," I remember him saying. But, then, it's not him there. It's Betsy. I close my eyes and open them and this time it's Diana, looking just like she did the last time I saw her, more than 10 years ago. And she stops sucking me and says, "I always knew you were a faggot."

I woke up suddenly. My shoulders and neck still hurt a little from having my wings bound. I decided to go flying for a while, thinking it would help limber me up and shake off the dream at the same time.

I left Scott there in the living room and went upstairs to my bedroom. Slammed the door. Then just paced back and forth, across that big room, door to window. Again and again, wearing out the floor. Thinking what I should have said, should have done. Thinking nothing I say could make a difference, anyway. Thinking I should just forget about the whole thing. Forget about him. Not bloody likely. Not any time soon.

Heard that guy in the room next door. Opening the window, climbing out. So, I went to my window and watched him. Wanted to see what he was up to. Left the lights off so he wouldn't see me.

The moon was full, reflecting off the snow. I could see him real good, gleaming white in the sky. Enormous wings, like nothing I'd ever seen before. Long graceful body. Swooping and soaring. Expression of pure joy on a face like a statue or a painting or something. Wasn't hard to come up with his code name, I guess. I watched him a long time. "What's the fucking point of even trying?" Didn't know I was saying that last bit out loud until I heard it.

I felt like smashing something. Or someone. Got myself under control and went to take some of those herbs 'Ro gave me. Well, maybe I wasn't totally under control. The bottle broke in my hand - glass and blood everywhere. I threw out the glass pieces and the cuts healed. So, I go to sleep without that stuff one night. I figured I'd mix up some more in the morning.

I lay down on my bed and just worked on emptying my head, turning off all those thoughts. So hard. But then I wasn't there any more.

I didn't know where I was, but it wasn't a bed. Hard surface, lying face down. On a floor? I couldn't see anything, couldn't tell if it was really dark or something was covering my eyes. I tried to reach with my hand to see if there was something on them, but my hands were stuck. And my feet. Some sort of manacles, with chains to something. Who did this to me? Idiots, anyway. Thinking manacles can hold me. Popped the claws on my right hand to cut the chain. But it wouldn't cut. What could it be that adamantium can't get through? Struggled for a long time, using claws, limbs, torso, head - everything I've got. But I couldn't move.

And then I wasn't alone. I smelled him before I heard him. He smelled familiar but I couldn't remember who he was. Not even when he started talking, started laughing at me for thinking I could get away. Before I knew it he was hitting me, kicking me. All over my body. I couldn't fight back at all. I was bleeding from more places than I knew I had, hurting all over. I knew there was nothing on my eyes now, because I was bleeding from both of them. Still couldn't see. Real, real dark.

And then, without warning, he was on top of me. Huge, covering my body with his and so much of him left over. Still pounding me with his hands and scratching me with nails like an animal's claws, raking lines of blood and pain. Now, pounding into me with his cock, too. He hadn't said a word to me since he'd started beating me, just made these roaring, animal-like sounds. Now he said something. "Scream for me." And, God help me, I did.

He left without a word when he was done. "If I ever meet you again, you'll die," I said. And opened my eyes. Dark, but not too dark for me to see. In bed, not on a floor. No manacles. No wounds, but I could still feel the pain, the anger. The shame. I said it again, out loud. "I see you, you die." But a voice in my head said I'd seen him. And left him alive.

They are all coming at me, faces contorted with rage. "No mutants!" they're screaming. So many of them.

"Get behind me, April!" I yell. She has never heard me yell at her but she knows to do what I tell her. And I'm fighting them off, keeping them away from my little girl. I'm stronger than all of them put together, but there's so many and it's hard to keep track of them.

Then they are getting larger. Much bigger. I can't reach to fight them off - I'm barely up to their knees. I turn to tell April to run away and I see that she is bigger than me, too. It's not that the attackers are growing. I'm shrinking. So small I almost don't exist.

He's back. I can hear him saying it again. "That's no fun. If we gag him I don't get to hear him scream." And then arguing with Toad about when and how to kill me. "Dead is dead," he's saying, over and over, beating me while he says it. There are handcuffs binding my wrists; my eyes are covered. Helpless again.

And then Logan's with me and I'm not helpless any more. "Trust me, Scott," he says. "Open your eyes when I tell you to." And he slices the blindfold and the manacles on my hands. Sabretooth is still beating me, but Logan and I are fighting back. Together. "Now!" he yells and I open them wide. But it isn't Sabretooth I'm looking at. It's Logan, falling to the ground with a huge hole through his whole body. Right where his heart should be. Sabretooth is laughing as he grabs me from behind, saying, "Now the fun begins."

And then the scene shifts and I'm on a stage. It's some sort of period piece. I'm dressed like a character out of Dumas or Sabatini and I have a sword in my hand. I'm giving a speech about love and death and suddenly I see Sabretooth in the audience. His face is masked, but I know it's him. Suddenly, in the middle of the play, I'm denouncing him as a murderer. "There is the man!" I yell. "He murdered my best friend. My lover." And I leap from the stage, sword in hand. He has a sword now, too, and we fence as the audience parts like the Red Sea.

I'm backing him up, overwhelming him with my swordsmanship. Errol Flynn has nothing on me. I've got him backed into a corner and, with one deft move, I break his sword in half. He's totally unarmed now and begging for mercy.

I have none. "Now the fun begins," I say as I drive the sword into his heart. He falls to the ground. I rip off the mask and I find it's my own face I'm looking at.

I'm building a new dollhouse. My plans are laid out in front of me, drawn from my memory of Grandpa's. And it's a little hard to see, because the tears keep clouding my vision. So, it takes me a while to realize that there's a tiny little person in the living room of the unfinished doll house. First I think it's a doll, but I look closer and see it's moving. Curiouser and curiouser. The little figure is speaking, but it's so tiny I can't make out details or hear what it's saying.

I go to get my magnifying glass and come back. The tiny person is still standing there, in the middle of the living room of the under-construction dollhouse. Yelling now, so I can almost hear what it's saying. I bend down with my magnifying glass and see that the tiny figure is Arthur. "Get me out of here, Wen!" he's yelling.

April's a morning person, just like me. It's the best time of day, we both agree. "Full many a glorious morning have I seen." Arthur, on the other hand, is the original night owl. Of course, if I quote Shakespeare on mornings he just quotes Heinlein: "That old saw about the early bird just goes to show that the worm should have stayed in bed." Sometimes I think it's a wonder we managed to get together in the first place, much less stay married all these years. Well, we may not be compatible in circadian rhythm, but we have other things in common.

So, Arthur's always asleep when we get up. We're usually the first ones downstairs. Once in a while Logan is there, sitting at the table in the living room, blueprints spread out in front of him, hard at work before the sun rises. Generally he's in a lousy mood when he's up early, though. I have tried suggesting he go back to bed, get a little more sleep and he might feel more human. He doesn't take too kindly to personal suggestions, though.

This morning, though, it was Jean-Paul who beat us downstairs. He was sitting by the fireplace in the living room when we came in, reading. I was holding April but she said an insistent "Down" and then "Dah-po" and did the toddler equivalent of running over to him - sort of a wiggly waddle. He picked her up and she laughed when he made a funny face for her. It's hard to believe he used to be so cool towards her when I see them together now. They started to sing that French hand-game counting song about a blackbird that lost its feathers as I went off to the kitchen to make coffee.

I came back with two mugs and poor Jean-Paul was singing the verse about the thirty-seventh feather the blackbird had lost, using his and April's fingers and toes. "You indulge her," I said, putting his mug down on the table next to him.

"And you don't?"

"I'm supposed to. I'm her mother."

"Well, I'm her... Oh, I don't know. How about French tutor? She's never going to learn to count in French if I leave it to you and Arthur."

"There is that." I smiled watching him, playing with my little girl, picking her up and flying around the room with her while she squealed with delight. "You're so good with her, Jean-Paul. You need to have a kid of your own. You'd make a great father, you know." His face just about crumpled. Clearly this was not the right thing to say. "Okay, I know it's not so easy for you to have kids as it is for me and Arthur. Believe me, I know we're lucky to be able to grow a whole human being just using stuff we've got lying around the house anyway. But lots more gay men are becoming parents, no? Adoption, surrogacy..." I was getting the impression I just stuck the other foot in my mouth.

"I did adopt. I had a little girl named Joanne. She died, though."

"Oh, Jean-Paul, I'm sorry. I had no idea. Could I have said anything stupider? Oh God. Do you hate being around us? I can't imagine what it's like. I'm so sorry. I wish I'd known."

"Thanks, Wendy. It was kind of hard being around April at the beginning, but it's better now. I didn't want you to know at first - I didn't want you feeling awkward around me, trying to keep April away from me. I figure we know each other well enough now that you will know I mean it when I say I want her - want all of you - in my life."

I took his hand for a minute and squeezed it. Then we sat there for a few minutes in silence, drinking our coffee, while April played on the floor.

"When are Scott and Warren supposed to get here?" I asked, after a while.

"They got in late last night - they're probably still sleeping."

"Not me." Warren walked in, looking at least half-asleep, though, stretching arms and wings as he entered.

Jean-Paul started to introduce us but I said we knew each other. Warren told me I hadn't changed a bit. I told him he was still a lousy, albeit charming, liar. Got up and kissed him. Introduced him to April, who stared open-mouthed at the wings.

"Where did you two meet?" Jean-Paul asked.

"Siberia," Warren said, and laughed. "No, not really. I had a girlfriend in Wendy's dorm in college. That's what they used to call the dorm."

"How come?"

"Well, it was officially Russian House," I told him. "Supposedly for Russian majors, although most of us weren't. But mostly it was because it was so far away from the rest of the campus. It was kind of a pain in the ass getting to and from classes but it gave us the privacy we needed." Jean-Paul raised his eyebrows at that. "It was the de facto mutant dorm. There was a whole cadre of us. A bunch of mutants and Heather." He smiled at that. "We called ourselves the 'Mawrter Mutant Underground'. It was great. I swear, I met more mutants in my first week at Bryn Mawr than I had in my previous 18 years."

"Underground?" he asked. "So the other students didn't know you were mutants?"

"No way," I said. "As colleges go, it's pretty tolerant of difference, but there are limits to tolerance. As I keep finding out, to my peril." I thought a little about our home in Vermont, about the dollhouse my grandfather had made for me when I was a little girl, sitting there in the playroom. Blown to bits with everything else.

Nobody said anything for a minute. Then Warren asked if there was any more coffee and Jean-Paul offered to show him where the kitchen was, taking his own now empty mug with him. They came back with a steaming mug each and sat down on the couch next to each other. April went back over to Jean-Paul, raising her hands to be lifted to his lap. He told her to wait while he put down his hot coffee before he picked her up. She snuggled into his lap but kept looking at Warren, at his wings. Finally, she reached out and before I could stop her, pulled out a feather.

"Ouch!" he said, laughing though. April smiled, looking pleased with herself. She showed the feather to Jean-Paul, saying "Une plume!"

"Oui. C'est ca." He was laughing now. "Just like the song. But this is no blackbird," he added, pointing at Warren. "He's an Angel. C'est un ange." April clapped and laughed and then waved the feather in the air.

At that moment of conviviality Logan entered. Warren stood up and walked over to him. "Hi, you must be Logan," he said, extending his hand to shake. "I'm Warren Worthington." Logan looked down at Warren's hand with something approaching disgust, and made no move to shake it. Warren kind of stood there awkwardly for a minute, then put the hand on his head, smoothing his hair. "Umm, nice to meet you," he said, trying one more time. Logan merely grunted, walking off towards the kitchen. "Maybe he needs coffee," Warren said after the door closed.

"Oh, I think he needs more than that," Jean-Paul said.

I got the feeling he might have said something more if Scott hadn't walked in at that moment. He greeted everyone - a huge smile for April on Jean-Paul's lap. "Plume!" she said again, waving her prize at him.

Scott laughed. "She works fast," he said.

"Always the way," said Warren, shrugging shoulders and wings. "Women just can't keep their hands off of them."

Scott laughed. "Pay no attention to him," he said, turning to me. "He's always been a legend in his own mind."

"I'm sure Wendy has drawn her own conclusions, Scott. We've known each other for years." He recapped the Bryn Mawr story.

As Warren was talking, Logan walked back in with two mugs of coffee, handing one to Scott, who thanked him and took a sip. "Hey, this is really good. Last time I was here the coffee was awful. Did you find somewhere else to shop?"

"My friend Laura in Seattle sent me five pounds of coffee beans. She took pity on me when I told her about the limited options in Prince Albert."

There was suddenly complete silence. I got the feeling I'd said something terribly wrong for the second time this morning. Before even finishing my coffee.

"You gave this address to someone outside of Alpha Flight and the X-Men?" Logan asked, barely suppressing a growl.

"Well, yeah, she's an old friend. We'd been talking; she offered to send me coffee. I don't get what the problem is here. Am I missing something?"

"Oh come on, Wendy," Logan was really growling now. "You know this is supposed to be a secret location. What is the fucking point of all the planning and design for secrecy if you're going to go giving out the address to the immediate world?"

"She said she gave the address to one friend, Logan," Warren began to defend me.

"Shut up, Worthington. This is nothing to do with you." And then, turning back to me, "It was an idiotic thing to do, Wendy."

"Really, Logan, I don't think you need to talk to her like that," Warren tried again.

"Scott, he's your guest. Shut him up or get him out of here. I've got damage control to do. I can't be bothered with this guy."

Some kind of look passed between Scott and Warren. I thought Warren was going to say something more, but he didn't. I was paying more attention to Logan, anyway. "I'm sorry. I didn't think," I said.

"Obviously. Okay, tell me the whole story. You were talking, you said? So she had the phone number here? And you gave her the address, too? What does she know about this place? Who else have you been blabbing to?"

"No one, I swear. I've kept in touch with some folks by email, Laura among them. I've just said that Arthur and April and I are living in Canada, that we're trying to figure out what to do and where to go next. I haven't been any more specific than that. Laura didn't have the number here. I called her a couple of times and mentioned the coffee once. And she offered to send some. I'm sorry, Logan," I said again. He didn't say anything. "She's a mutant, if that makes any difference."

"Not a bit. She's still an outsider. Who has she given the address out to? That's what I want to know."

"I don't think she would have told anyone. She wouldn't have had reason to, I don't think. I mean, I can ask her not to, if you want. I'm really sorry, Logan. Look, I can tell her more, explain that we don't want the address getting out. But she doesn't know anything about it except that it's where I'm living. I didn't tell her what we're doing up here or anything." He was starting to look a little mollified. "I had been planning to ask you if she could come up here and visit, actually," I said. The anger came back into his face. "Okay, stupid idea."

"No, I don't think it is," Scott weighed in. "Logan, why don't you have Wendy invite her? We can find out more about what she may or may not have said to others. Maybe we even end up recruiting her and it's okay." Logan looked like he was at least thinking about it. "What's her mutant power, Wendy?"

"Languages. She can speak and understand any language perfectly, without any previous exposure. Read and write, too. It's pretty amazing. She was a big help in college." Logan looked like he was considering it. "I'm sorry," I told him again. "Laura's a friend of Heather's, too, Logan. And she's in between things now - that's why I wanted to invite her to come up here. Maybe she would end up joining Alpha Flight. Or your team, Scott."

"Okay. Invite her. But tell her - not a word to anyone about where she's going. And when you're talking to your other friends, keep your fucking mouth shut about where we are." He stalked out of the room.

From: Scottcyke@yahoo.com
To: Profx@mutant.org
Subject: Checking in

Hi. Just wanted to let you know that we arrived without incident last night. Plus, I want to fill you in a little on what I've been up to so far. As we discussed, I'm trying to meet individually with each of the group members to get a better sense of how they are doing and who would fit in well if we send additional residents. I'm also trying to figure out whether it would be best to rotate anyone here out of Saskatchewan.

So far, I'm pretty pleased in general with how they all seem to be doing. There is certainly some tension - particularly between Logan and Wendy - but it seems to be a pretty cohesive group. Wendy, at least, doesn't think that the problems she has been having with Logan preclude them working together. I haven't had a chance to talk to Logan about this yet - it may be more of an issue for him than it is for her.

There was a bit of a contretemps this morning, I'm afraid. Wendy, it turns out, had given the address here to a friend of hers. Logan got understandably angry about that. Things did look like they were getting a bit out of hand, as though the anger wasn't just over this one incident. In terms of the particular incident, I think it's going to be okay. The friend is a mutant and an old college friend of both Wendy and Heather. She's coming out here later this week and I'm hoping to recruit her for our team. Her mutant power is languages - she can speak and write any human language fluently with no prior experience. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I think she'd be invaluable for translation and for foreign missions. I'm also wondering if she can teach. We're so short-handed lately. So, it may be a case of all's well that ends well.

That reminds me - you're taking my Shakespeare seminar tomorrow, right? Please see how they are coming on their original soliloquies. They should at least know which play they are each adding a soliloquy to and where they are adding it. I'd feel better if at least some of them have started writing, too.

Sorry, I got off on a tangent. Anyway, things got a little heated between Wendy and Logan in the middle there. Well, heated on his side, anyway.

Jean-Paul seems to be doing much better. I was so pleased this morning to see baby April sitting on his lap and both of them looking happy and comfortable. She is totally taken with him and just follows him around everywhere. I spoke to him privately and he says that, after some initial difficulty, he has become more and more comfortable with her presence and is really enjoying the special relationship he's developing with her. He also said he would like to see more children in the community. So, Jean-Paul seems to be coping well. He was also pleased to see Warren. They have been enjoying catching up and are planning to go on a flying tour of the area tonight when they can do so unnoticed, under cover of darkness.

Arthur and Wendy both seem to be coping well, although she did mention feeling a little bit starved for female companionship. She's looking forward to her friend Laura's arrival, which will help in the near term. We should make sure that the next bunch of residents includes at least one other woman.

Arthur was not too forthcoming about his own feelings, but seems to be doing okay. I got the impression he was a little bit uncomfortable talking to me - I'm not sure why.

So, my first day and I've done initial interviews with everyone but Logan. It's still a little bit hard to talk to him, Charles. I don't quite know how to go from what we were to what we are now. I *think* this is right; I don't think it could have worked between us. But I'm really not sure. And I do miss him so much. So, I'm a little frightened to do the one-on-one bit with him. Still, I will screw my courage to the sticking place (Don't forget about those soliloquies, okay?) and talk to him before the day is out.

Have you heard any more about the Belarus situation? All I know is what I'm hearing on the news here. It is being covered pretty extensively on the CBC, with a lot of the focus being on discussion about potential mutant refugees coming to Canada. The federal government is prepared to accept them as in need of political asylum but there's a lot of negative popular reaction to that decision. Of course, it's all hypothetical at this point since, AFAIK, no mutants have gotten out of Belarus yet, much less ended up in Canada.

Scott

P.S. I'm still trying to get hold of Pyotr - called a few more numbers I had for friends and relatives of his. Some in Moscow, some in St. Petersburg. No luck - either the people on the other end don't know anything about his whereabouts or don't speak English. I'm going to retry with the non-English speakers once Laura gets here.

From: Profx@mutant.org
To:Scottcyke@yahoo.com
Subject: Reply to: Checking in

I'm glad to hear you and Warren arrived okay and that all is going well so far. Thanks for the reminders about checking on the soliloquies. I might have missed doing so with only the lesson plan you left me and the several strategically placed Post-it notes.

Let me know how things go when you talk to Logan. It would be a shame if we have to bring Wendy and Arthur back here - they certainly have the skills needed up there. And they are both very enthusiastic about the project. I do hope Wendy and Logan can resolve their differences. I can see how their personal styles might clash but I would expect that he values her experience and skill.

Scott, I think I do understand how difficult it is for you to deal with Logan on this basis right now. FWIW, I do think you're doing the right thing. I understand that the bond between you two was a strong one and that it was one of affection and not just attraction. But, truly, I don't think he is capable of maintaining a close, loving relationship with anyone. What was done to him was horrific and I fear that it has left him unable to relate to anyone on the level I know you would need. Some damage just isn't reparable.

Wendy's friend does sound like she may be a good addition to the team. I'm sure you will manage to charm her into joining us if she seems suitable once you meet her.

My big news is that Hank is back. Good news for our teaching and team-member shortage; bad news for his mission and for what it says about mutant status in this country. We are far from the mutant cleansing of Belarus, thank God, but it's a sad circumstance when the National Institutes of Health send Hank home from what was supposed to be a one-year assignment. Their only justification is that they cannot "guarantee his safety". I fear that circumstances are only going to get worse in this country, particularly for easily identifiable mutants such as Hank. In a related development, Jean tells me that in her last trip into town she saw "No Mutants Allowed" signs on several of the Salem Center shops. We are considering whether we should cancel any off-campus trips for those students whose mutations are clearly visible. It's something we should discuss when you return.

Charles

P.S. Thanks for the update on the Canadian view of the Belarus situation. I fear that the INS here would not be so willing to consider mutants for political asylum. OTOH, as you point out, it's pretty much an academic question unless and until some refugees actually manage to get out of the country.

From: Scottcyke@yahoo.com
To: Profx@mutant.org
Subject:Reply to: Checking in

I am so sorry to hear about Hank. Yes, good news for the teaching and team shortage (and I'm sure Jean can use the help in the medical department). But such a loss for everyone. It was such an opportunity to improve our relations with the federal government. And for professional and personal growth for Hank. He must be crushed.

I'm also worried to hear about the developments in town. I think this really shouldn't wait for me to get back - student off-campus trips should be suspended at least until we have a better sense of what's going on there. And I don't really think that Jean should be going there without some sort of protection, either. Maybe, for the interim, trips should be in groups of two or more.

I understand what you had to say about Logan, Charles, but it hurt to read it. It sounds so callous. I know you don't mean it like that; I know you are just thinking of what's best for me. But, Charles, we're all damaged, me no less so than the rest. And what happened between me and Logan was at least half my fault. I just can't believe that he doesn't have the capacity to succeed at love. He's more loyal a friend in many ways than I've ever been. I certainly wish the best for him. I want him to be happy, much as it would pain me to see him with someone else. So, I hope you're wrong. And I know him well enough to say that I truly think you are.

Scott

P.S. Did I mention I wanted you to check with the Shakespeare students on how they are doing on their soliloquies? <ducking>

From: Profx@mutant.org
To: Scottcyke@yahoo.com
Subject:Reply to: Checking in

Just briefly - we can talk more later-

You are quite right about off-campus trips. Safety first. We have suspended all student trips and none of the faculty are going anywhere unaccompanied, as of today.

Hank is holding up okay. It is a hard, hard thing for him and this will take some time. He is planning on taking over a number of classes and otherwise staying busy, though.

I'm sorry to have sounded callous in what I said about Logan, Scott. You certainly know him better than I do. I hope whatever happens that you both end up with some lasting happiness. Please forgive me if your happiness is somewhat more important to me than his.

Charles

P.S. You're a tall man and I am in a wheelchair. Ducking just makes you an easier target.

I saw little of Logan the rest of that first day in Saskatchewan. When I did run into him he was busy - mixing herbs in the kitchen, drawing plans for something in one of the workrooms, meeting with Jean-Paul on financial matters.

He did join us for dinner. Conversation flowed well and everyone seemed quite comfortable. I couldn't see any aftereffects of the morning's fracas evident in Logan's manner towards Wendy, or hers towards him. He still didn't seem too enamored of Warren, though.

"Logan, I called Laura," Wendy said. "She's flying into Regina on Thursday. I don't know how long she's staying and we don't really need another rental car here, so I thought I'd go there and pick her up. If I take the van I can also pick up some things we can't get in Prince Albert. Is that okay with you? It means I'll be gone all day, but I'll take April with me, so Arthur should be free to work."

"It's fine," he said. "Jean-Paul, you and Wendy put together a list of things we need." Then, after a pause, "But I really don't want you going to Regina by yourself, Wendy. I saw lots of those 'No Mutants Allowed' signs last time I was there. I think you need some sort of protection."

"It's okay, Logan. Nobody's going to know I'm a mutant."

"I hope not, but I don't want to count on that."

She looked like she was going to argue with him some more, but Arthur stepped in. "Logan's right," he said. "You're particularly vulnerable alone with the baby. I don't want you and April going alone. I'm sorry to miss a day's work, but I'm going to have to go, too."

Logan didn't look too pleased with that. "I really hate to lose you both for a day. Scott, could you go with her?"

I hesitated, not sure I wanted to leave the outpost for a full day in the short time I'd be here. Warren stepped in. "I'll go. Wendy and I can reminisce about old times. And I'm curious to meet Laura. I don't remember her - she must have come to Siberia after Diana and I had broken up." Then, with a look at Logan, "That is, I'll go if it's okay with you."

"Oh, I think we can spare you for the day, Worthington." The look that went with that would have withered most, but Warren just smiled and thanked him.

Conversation became general again. There was some discussion of the Belarus situation. Both Warren and Arthur seemed to have strong personal feelings about what was happening there. Warren said that he thought he would be "dead meat" if he had been in Belarus, since his wings would be easily discovered. Arthur offered the perspective of one who thought he could keep his mutation hidden indefinitely but ended up being found out. Wendy took his hand when he said that. I told him I thought he had behaved courageously and was sorry that their neighbors hadn't proved themselves more tolerant.

There was a kind of awkward silence following that. I broke it by offering regards from the folks back home. Jean-Paul asked about Oliver, saying he often thought of him.

"He talks about his time here - and about you and Logan - all the time," I told him. "He's doing really well. He seems to have made a lot of friends. He's an excellent student. Oliver has adjusted really well, all things considered. Still really misses his family, I think, but he doesn't generally like to talk about that."

"I could kill them for what they did to him." Everyone looked at Logan, who had said nothing since his remark to Warren, in surprise. Seeing my expression, he added, "Yeah, I know. My usual way of dealing with conflict. Not so much lately, though. But it burns me up. Just the idea of throwing away your kid like that. And a kid like Oliver - anybody would be lucky to have a son like him. He deserves better parents - people like Arthur and Wendy here," nodding towards them. "Can you imagine ever doing anything like that to April, no matter what she grew up to be?" he asked them. They agreed that they would never abandon their daughter. Wendy, in particular, looked pleased at Logan's praise of their parenting ability and dedication.

Later that evening I decided it was time I stopped avoiding my interview with Logan. I knocked on his door and he yelled "Come in." He was sitting on the bed with floor plans spread out in front of him.

"Do you have a minute?" I asked. "I think we should talk a little about what's going on here, what happens next. I'd like us to be on the same page when we're talking to the rest of them, when we're discussing the idea of adding new residents."

"Sure. Come on in. Have a seat." He gestured towards the arm chair next to the bed.

I hesitated. "Do you think we could go somewhere else to talk?"

"People want to talk to me in private, this is where they come, Cyclops," he said, gruffly. And then, with that sardonic smile I knew so well, "Besides, if you want us to talk somewhere you and me haven't fucked, we're going to end up standing in the middle of the road out there."

I laughed at that and sat down, asking him what he was working on.

"I'm trying to figure out where to put everybody. I think it is a good idea to add to the group here. Things seem better between Jean-Paul and the others, lately, but I still think it's too small a group to get through the winter without really falling apart. But I need to get a lot of the inside renovations done this winter. It's the only way we're going to get this done with any speed. So, I'm trying to see how we can have living quarters for ten or so and also have room to work on the place. I think we can do it, but we might have to move around a bit." He pointed to the floor plan. "See, we can use this part of the house as living quarters while we work over here. And then just switch it. We have to keep the work areas real separate with a baby in the house - got to watch out for lead exposure. Oh, and if you're sending another family it would be good if they're like Wendy and Arthur - keeping the kids with them at night. I can't really spare any rooms just for kids."

"Wendy and Arthur are part of what I wanted to talk to you about, Logan. Wendy, mostly. I gather what happened this morning isn't the first altercation you've had with her."

He snorted at that. "Well, that was bloody stupid even for her, telling that Laura where we are. But, yeah, we've gone at it a bit before. Maybe not every day but close to it."

"What do you think the problem is?"

"I don't know. She loves to fight or something. You should see her when she gets all worked up about something. I had no idea when I met them in Westchester. You wouldn't know it to look at her, but when she gets mad, watch out."

"She does seem fairly benign to look at.

'O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd!
She was a vixen when she went to school;
And though she be but little, she is fierce.'

Is that Wendy?"

"Yeah, that's her," he said, smiling. "Little but fierce. You wouldn't know it to look at her," he said again.

"Well, same with Heather and she's tough as nails. I guess, based on our sample of two, that Bryn Mawr turns out tough broads with delicate appearances. I can't wait to see what this Laura is like.

"But, getting back to Wendy and Arthur: do you want me to send them back to Westchester? It's your project. You need to have people here you're compatible with. I'm sure we can use them back home. I could present it in a positive way."

He was looking at me with alarm. "Oh no, Scott. I need them here. Don't go by what happened this morning. Wendy and I fight but she really knows what she's doing. You should hear her on design of multipurpose spaces.

"Look, I'm thinking when this place is operational we're going to have maybe fifty people here. But if you ever have to evacuate the Westchester school, we'll have to accommodate a lot more. I'm thinking we plan on everyone getting out alive - that's unlikely, but you still got to plan for it - and picking up a few other mutant refugees, too. I'm planning for 150 people here on a semi-long term basis. We do that and don't have them killing each other, it's got to be planned out right. I need Wendy and Arthur for that - I'm glad to have them here. Lucky to have them. I didn't think you'd find me anybody like them."

"And you think you can work with her?"

"Yeah, she's okay. Not a whiner. She handled it fine, before, you know. Didn't get all defensive or start crying or anything. Owned up to what she did wrong, tried to make amends. She's not one to give in when she thinks she's right - God, she can argue you to death - but when she knows she's wrong she admits it. And she can take it. Did you notice? Didn't give me shit for yelling at her. More than I can say for your boyfriend, by the way."

"He's not my boyfriend, Logan." Neither of us said anything for a minute.

"Do you think we will need to evacuate? Sometimes it just seems so impossible - I've lived there since I was sixteen. It's hard to imagine the school not being there, just like it always was."

"I don't know, Scott, but it could happen. I'm going to work on this as fast as I can. Well fast as I can, not sacrificing quality or secrecy. I sure as hell hope you never have to. But things are heating up in lots of places. Stuff like what happened to Wendy and Arthur; that "mutant cleansing" in Belarus; those "No Mutants" signs in public places here and in the States - it's all part of the same thing. I'm worried. And glad we're doing this. I hope you never need it. If you do, I sure hope you get out safe." He looked at me so intensely when he said that. "And 'Ro and Marie and Oliver and Jeannie and the professor."

"Me, too, Logan. I hope we don't need it and we all get out if we do. Although you're right that it's unlikely we all would. " Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. "About Oliver - I wanted to say more about him than I felt comfortable saying in front of everybody at dinner. It was a good experience for him, Logan. I should have trusted you on it. He needed it. He learned a lot. And he needed to be away from me for a while, too. It gave us a chance to kind of start from scratch, gave me a chance to be honest with him and work with him on dealing with all that. It was a good idea. Sometimes you are the one who's better on the 'interpersonal shit'."

He smiled at that. I asked him how he felt about Laura's impending visit.

"Well, right now I'm thinking it gives me a whole day without your boyfriend around," he said with a smile. And then, seeing my expression, "Yeah I know, he's not your boyfriend. Just an old high school buddy who's occasionally in your bed in the middle of the night." He paused. "In you, too, I guess," looking hard at me.

I didn't say anything and he went on. "I think you're right to have her come here, and right away. It sounds like she hasn't had time to really think about what we're doing here or pass on any info to somebody else. And then we can see where we go from there. Do you think you could use her?"

"Oh, yes. It's really hard getting updates on what's happening to mutants all over the world when there's a language barrier. The whole Belarus situation, for example. I've got names, phone numbers, email addresses, but I can't make the contact we need to find out what's really going on there. We've never had anybody who speaks Belarussian. Most people in Belarus speak Russian, too, but it's easier to win the confidence of the mutants there if we've got somebody who can speak their native language. And with Pyotr gone I don't even have anybody who's fluent in Russian. I hate to bring in outsiders to do translation these days. I used to feel like I could just go to the local community college or something and get someone to translate, but now I really don't know whom I can trust. And we never know where the next Belarus is going to be - I could really use someone who could communicate with anyone like that."

"Well, I'll try and be on my best behavior and not scare her off."

"Thanks. Logan," I said, kind of tentatively, "I've been thinking a lot about what you said last night. You were right about the 'somebody else' thing. I do still love you. I do still want you. I've been trying not to, though."

"Why, Scott?"

"I just got hurt so much. It's not just the leaving without telling me, you know. I'm almost getting used to that part. It's all that time you wouldn't even talk to me. I knew I'd hurt you, I knew what I'd said was wrong. I wanted so much to make amends, to try to undo the damage I'd done. And you wouldn't even take my calls. And then I find you were off fucking other people. I know we had no commitment that way - you'd agreed to just tell me and you did that. You lived up to our bargain - I can't fault you. But it just hurt, to think that I was longing for you, wanting you so much. Not just wanting you for sex; wanting to make things right between us. And then I find that you had just moved on already."

"I didn't move on. I got hurt, too, Scott. I thought I'd feel better if I did that. I thought sex with some guys I didn't know, didn't care about, would help." He looked away from me. "It didn't help. I'm not doing it any more." He looked back at me again, the sardonic smile back on his face. "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not waiting for you to change your mind - not saving myself for you or anything. Just trying to figure out what's going to feel okay. Picking up guys at a truck stop and fucking them wasn't feeling okay. Well, it was feeling good when I was doing it, but afterwards it was just kind of making me think more about what I was missing. It wasn't like being with you."

"Could you have told me how you were feeling? Why you were doing that? It would have made a difference to me."

"I'm not so good at talking about things like that."

"I've noticed." He laughed. "Hey, Logan, part of why this happened is because I said too much, said that stuff about Oliver when I should have just kept my fucking mouth shut. And part of it is because you said too little, didn't tell me how you were feeling. Don't you think?"

"I guess so. Seems typical. You talk too much, I don't talk enough. Maybe we were good for each other. Maybe we evened each other up a bit."

I took a deep breath, cringing a little thinking about what Charles would think if he knew what I was going to say. Still, I knew I had to say it. "Do you want to give it another shot?"

He smiled at that, broad and genuine. "Yeah, I do. What did you have in mind?"

"Right now?" He nodded, still with that great big smile. "Sucking you off." He moved over, sitting on the edge of the bed. I got on my knees in front of him. "I'm hungry for your cock, Logan," I told him.

"Can't let you go hungry, now, Cyclops," he said. "Not with you being my guest here and everything. It wouldn't be polite."

He just stayed there on his knees in front of me, afterwards. Hands on my legs, looking up at me. I took his chin in my hand and looked at his face, wishing I could see his eyes. Thinking it might be worth dying just to see them once, just for a little while. Almost told him that, but didn't. Didn't want to scare him, didn't want him to think I was longing for it. I wasn't - not for death. Not now, anyway. Just longing for him, for all of him. Even those deadly glowing eyes.

I pushed his head down gently on my leg, stroking the side of his face and that soft, dark hair. "You have no idea how much I missed that, Scott," I told him. He gave me one of those half-smiles of his. "How much I missed you," I added, and the smile grew. Put my index finger at the corner of that grinning mouth and he sucked it in, stroked it with his tongue a little.

"Stand up," I told him after a while and he did. "Take off your clothes." He started unbuttoning his shirt, looking at me. I pulled it off of him and unbuckled his belt. Undid his pants, held his hard cock for a minute, running my fingers along the shaft. Then I let him finish undressing. Told him to lie down on the bed, on his back. I sat there next to him for a while, just touching him all over, looking at him all over. Got on top of him. Kissed him on the neck and the cheek, then pushed my tongue in his mouth. He had his hands on my ass and was moving a little under me, sucking hard on my tongue while he did. I reached between us to pull on his cock, rubbing the slit with my thumb. "What do you want?" I asked him. He turned his head away. "What's wrong?" He didn't answer, just shook his head. "Tell me," I said.

"I'm a little nervous. Scared to tell you what I want," he said, not looking at me. I got off of him, lay on my side next to him, fingers round his cock, thumb on top, moving up and down.

"Does this feel good, Scott?" He nodded. "I want to make you feel good. I want to give you what you want. Tell me."

His eyes were closed now. "I want to fuck you," he said. "Would you let me do that?" I didn't know what to say, didn't say anything. "That wasn't a good thing to ask, was it?" he said.

"I didn't expect it. You never said you wanted to before." Thought about it a little. "Did you do that with Warren?" He nodded. "I don't know, Scott."

"I know what I'm doing, Logan. I wouldn't hurt you."

"I don't care about pain. You know that."

"I care about pain. I don't want to hurt you. I love you."

I didn't say anything for a while. "You never let anybody before?" he asked.

"I don't know. You know how it is with me - I don't know what I've done and what I haven't. I don't remember ever doing it that way, but maybe I did. Maybe something happened. Maybe that's why I think I might not want to." I waited a long time. "Why I'm scared to." He took my hand when I said that.

"You think you had a bad experience?" I shrugged. "Sometimes I put my finger inside when I'm sucking you. You like that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I like that. But a finger's different than your dick."

"That's what I love about you, Logan. You pay attention to the details." I laughed. "Forget I asked. Just do me with your hand."

"I don't want to forget about it." Still rubbing him with my hand. Stopped to bend down and lick the underside of his cock for a minute, balls up to the head, real slow. Loving the taste of him, the smell of him. Loving the sounds he made when I did that. "I want to give you what you want, what you need. I'm just not sure. Could we just try it? Start slow, see how it goes? I might have to stop. Would you be okay with that?"

"More than okay, Logan. I don't want to do anything that doesn't feel good to you. We can stop any time."

I leaned in and kissed him. We kissed for a long time. He didn't seem in a hurry to do anything else. Finally, I pulled away from him and got a tube of lube out of the nightstand. Handed it to him and lay face down on the bed.

He lay down next to me, sort of half on me. His foot was stroking my leg, calf down to the ankle. Stuck a lubed-up finger into my ass, licking my back, talking to me. "Tell me if you want to stop, Logan. Tell me if anything doesn't feel good. I only want to do what feels good to you." Two fingers, now. Opening me up. It felt good. I told him that.

He got on top of me. Wonderful to feel him all over me like that, that long body pressing down on me. He pushed it into me, slowly, asking me right in my ear if it felt okay. Like he always says, more than okay. I felt filled up by him, wanted him moving in me, wanted him stroking that spot he'd hit on the way in. Told him that and he started moving. He was pressed hard against me, from his head down to his feet, intertwined with mine. Just moving his dick and his hips. Up and down, in and out. Slow and steady. "Harder!" I told him and pushed back, getting up on all fours, moving in time with him.

"Logan, you're so tight. You're so good. I love this. I love you." Reaching to pull on my cock while he fucked me harder and faster.

"I love you, Scott. I love what you're doing." He was lying on my back, pressed against me. Moving fast and hard inside me, rubbing me with his hand. Sweating hard now. Making these sounds in my ear, hot and loving. And saying my name. "Logan. Oh, Logan." Again and again.

"Give it to me, Scott. Harder. Hard as you can." He did what I told him to, pushing in hard and strong. Panting in my ear, no words now. Then sucking on my earlobe, moaning and whimpering while he did. Pushed in real hard one last time and I could feel him coming inside me. Hot breath on my neck, pushed against me, hands on my hips. Felt like it kept pumping in a long time. Then he kind of collapsed on me. Just stayed there for a couple of minutes, then pulled out and lay down on his back, still breathing hard.

I lay down next to him. He took off his glasses, wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry, Logan," he said. I put my arms around him, kissed his eyelids.

"What are you sorry for?"

"I got carried away. I meant to make you come first. You always do for me. I didn't mean to come so quickly. It just felt so good and you kept telling me 'harder' and 'faster' and... I don't know." Then he said it again. "I got carried away."

I put his hand on my cock again. He started stroking up and down. "It's okay, Scott. You made me come before. You can do it again now. It doesn't have to be while you're fucking me. It felt good without that. Really good."

"Yeah?" he asked.

I nodded and then realized he wouldn't know what I was doing. "Yeah, Scott. Real good. Keep rubbing. Did I ever tell you I love your hands?"

"All the time." He smiled, stroking harder and faster now. "Hey, Logan. You said you love me, before, when I was inside you. Did you mean it?"

"Yeah, I meant it. Don't expect to hear it a lot, though, okay?"

"Okay. I'll just kind of replay that one for a while."

"Finish me off with your mouth, Scott... That's it. Suck harder. That's good." Back where we came in. His mouth on my dick, hands on my thighs, sucking hard. Finally taking me all the way in, squeezing the cum out of me.

We held each other for a long time afterwards. Talked a long time - about the project, about stuff going on back in Westchester, about people we knew.

"I've got a poem for you, Scott," I told him. "Wendy taught it to me. Maybe you know it - she said it's a real famous one. She thinks it's about what we're doing here. I don't know - some of it's kind of religious, but there was one part I liked, made me think of you and me."

"So, go ahead," he said, grinning big. "Recite it for me."

"Well, I can't remember it all, but here's the part I liked:

Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!

Do you know it?"

"Oh, yes. Why does it make you think of us, Logan?"

"Sex and violence, right? Two of my favorite things, like you said. Well, maybe not sex but desire, anyway. That never went away, for either of us, right? Even when things were real bad between you and me. Oh, and just sort of being warriors together."

"Yeah, I can see it. The images are beautiful, aren't they? I'll bring you your arrows of desire, Logan. Any time." He didn't say anything for a while, eyes closed, lost in thought. "So, Wendy thinks you're building Jerusalem in Saskatchewan's green and pleasant land? What do you think?"

"Well, it's not green for much of the year - mostly white. But I'll go with pleasant. It's stark but it's got its own beauty. The way it looks, yeah, but the sounds, the smells, too. Sometimes I just go out in the woods back there and sit for a while. Building Jerusalem? I don't know about that. I'm just worried about building places to keep everybody. And keeping the whole thing quiet, secret."

"Fine with me, Logan. We'll leave the larger implications to Blake - and Wendy. You can just worry about building the school, the center. And if the community here turns out to be the new Jerusalem, well, that would be okay, too, wouldn't it?"

"More than okay."

He laughed. "So, are your speech patterns rubbing off on me, too? Have I been calling people 'bub' without realizing?"

"Not that I've noticed. I'll watch for that. Or maybe next time you'll just tell me 'turn over'." He laughed again. Then I asked him to tell me the whole poem, and he did. Sounded different than Wendy saying it, or maybe the rest of it was just growing on me.

Finally he fell asleep on top of me, head on my chest. I picked up his glasses, lying on the bed next to us, and put them on the nightstand where we wouldn't roll on them in the night. Kissed him on top of the head. "I love you, Scott Summers," I said, as soon as I was sure he was asleep.

The End

Literature Guide to Night and Day
"Night and Day" is my fourth series of stories based on the X-Men movie and pairing Scott and Logan. Scott Summers (in this incarnation) is: a mutant superhero, really good at giving blow jobs, a funny guy with a joke for most any occasion, and an English teacher. So the stories are full of quotes from poems and other literature, primarily reflecting Scott's literary interests. The following gives a little information on the works quoted as well as urls to read the complete works, where available. As was the case for the other literature guides, this document contains spoilers for the series and should be read after reading "Night and Day".

Poems
William Blake. "Jerusalem". (sometimes just titled "From Milton" to avoid confusion with Blake's longer poem by the same title).
This brief poem contrasts the England Blake knew, full of "dark Satanic mills", with the ideal society as represented by the biblical Jerusalem. The poet recounts a legend that Jesus traveled to England during the period of time not covered by the gospels and tries to imagine Christ in modern (i.e. early nineteenth century) England. He pledges himself to creating a new Jerusalem "in England's green and pleasant land." Blake uses warlike imagery in describing the quest for a new society, which is part of why the poem appeals to Logan. Its use in the series contrasts Wendy's rather lofty Blake-like view of the Saskatchewan project with Logan's more practical one. Read the poem at http://www.bartleby.com/236/62.html
David, Israelite king (?). "Psalm 104".
The Psalms (tehillim in Hebrew) are a series of Hebrew songs whose words are included in both the Jewish and Christian bibles. They are traditionally said to have been written by the young David and sung to soothe the mad king Saul. Modern scholarship suggests that at least some of them were written well after the end of the Israelite monarchy. Psalm 104 contains the line "Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labor until the evening" which provides the title for the ninth story. The King James translation of this psalm appears at http://www.bartleby.com/108/19/104.html#23
T.S. Eliot. "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock".
This poem has appeared in all of the previous series. It's one of Scott's favorites. Like Prufrock, Scott has a tendency to have difficulty in making decisions about his life. In this series, a quote from Prufrock serves as the title of the final story. You can read the poem at http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html
Leigh Hunt. "Abou Ben Adhem"
A story-poem about a man who, upon waking from a "dream of peace", encounters an angel. Ben Adhem ends up being blessed by God for caring more about his fellow men than about God Himself. I used a phrase from it as the title to the third segment, which deals with all the Saskatchewan outpost residents expressing concern for each other. Scott also quotes from the poem in that story, having just come from poetry class where he was teaching it. As "Abou Ben Adhem" is about a dream, it also fits in with the dream and time-of-day themes of the series. The line I have Jubilee saying about the poem is one that Isaac Asimov said he had said, as a child, in a class discussing this poem. Read the poem at http://www.library.utoronto.ca/utel/rp/poems/hunt4b.html
Carl Sandburg. "Murmurings in a Field Hospital"
One of Sandburg's most powerful World War I poems. It tells of a badly wounded soldier who wants only playthings and "beautiful useless things". Scott had recited it to Logan when Logan was in the depths of his depression over finding out that he had been under the control of the people who tortured him. Scott told Logan at the time that he saw him as the wounded soldier and was happy to be his plaything. In this series Logan asks Scott why he didn't find being Logan's plaything dehumanizing, in contrast with his feelings about the johns who had abused him (as described in Canadian Nights). Scott explains that love and trust make for the difference. The poem is available many places online, including http://www.bartleby.com/165/70.html.
Francois Villon. "Ballade des dames du temps jadis." From Le Testament.
Fifteenth century French poet Villon is one of the finest of France's lyric poets. This poem is among his best known, primarily for the wistful, nostalgic refrain that Jean-Paul quotes. The line is usually translated as "Where are the snows of yesteryear?" A well-done web copy of the poem, with hypertext explanatory notes on several of the words and historical and mythological figures, can be seen at http://www.ac-strasbourg.fr/pedago/lettres/Lecture/jadis.htm.
A side-by-side French original with English translation is available at http://www.projetbrassens.eclipse.co.uk/transballade.html. Please note, though, that it is translated in rhyme and with a similar rhythm, but not very literally.
William Shakespeare. Sonnets 27 and 33.
Two Shakespearean sonnets are quoted in this series. They are both in the set of sonnets thought to have been written for Will's male lover, known as the "Fair Youth" to Shakespearean scholars. Scott quotes Sonnet 27 when he says that he can find "no quiet" for thinking about Logan. Wendy quotes Sonnet 33 in praise of getting up early in the morning. All of the Shakespearean sonnets are widely available on the 'net. One place to find them is the Bartleby site. Here are the urls for these two: Sonnet 27. http://www.bartleby.com/70/50027.html Sonnet 33. http://www.bartleby.com/70/50033.html
Walt Whitman. "We Two Boys Together Clinging"
Logan quotes from this poem when, after speaking to Scott on the phone, he remembers the last time they had sex. Scott had quoted this poem to Logan in an email in the third series, saying it reminded him of the time they spent on the road together. The poem, which begins "We two boys together clinging, One the other never leaving" is available at http://www.bartleby.com/142/56.html

Plays
William Shakespeare.
Several of Shakespeare's plays are quoted in this series, both by Scott and by Wendy. Scott is teaching a Shakespeare seminar (and is concerned that Charles follow up on a homework assignment while substituting for him in that class) and uses a couple of Shakespearean quotes in that email. He also quotes from Shakespeare when speaking to Logan about Wendy, and to Warren about Logan. Wendy quotes from one of the plays when speaking to Arthur, as well. In addition, two of the ten stories have titles taken from lines from Shakespeare's plays.
Here are the specific plays quoted:
All's Well that Ends Well. Scott mentions the title of this play in describing the resolution of the problem that occurred between Logan and Wendy over Wendy having given the outpost address to her friend.
Hamlet. The title of the story in which all the characters are dreaming is taken from Hamlet's most famous soliloquy, the one that begins "To be or not to be, that is the question." In it, Prince Hamlet considers suicide. Likening death to sleep, he wonders whether there might be dreams in death.
Macbeth. Scott says that he will "screw his courage to the sticking place". This line and the title of the eighth story, "Ravell'd Sleave of Care", are both taken from Macbeth.
A Midsummer Night's Dream. Wendy quotes from this play when she tells Arthur that looks aren't primary to her. Scott takes another line from it later on, describing Wendy as little and fierce, like Hermia.
Othello. Scott tells W