Today I meet my love. It has been such a long time since we met, but the others . . . they wouldn't understand. Love doesn't care what shape, age or form you meet your mate. Love is love.

Wolverine, lost in thoughts of his own, missed the missile coming for his head. Luckily, Jean was back from Alaska, and she stopped it in time. "Logan! Are you all right?"

Wolverine came to with a start, the very odd expression fleeing his face as he looked gruffly over at Jean. "Yeah. Think I'll be done."

He turned and strode out of the room, glaring at anyone who looked at him oddly.

He walked out of the mansion, into the woods as he so often did.

Tonight he would meet his love. He waited patiently in the darkness, as the sun fell.

Suddenly, he saw his love, his darling. Beast's shadow fell over Logan's as Beast entered the clearing. Logan couldn't help myself. A whispered word: "Beast."

An answering whisper: "Wolverine."

Beast started forward, toward the man of his dreams, but Logan turned away. "I . . . I thought you might not come tonight," he said brokenly. "I saw you with that . . that . . . girl."

Beast walked forward, into the moonlight. "I know. I couldn't help, Logan. She just . . . threw herself on me!"

Logan's shoulders shook, as though he were crying. "Right. I saw the way you held her."

"No, really! Logan, my love, it was all a mistake! I would've loved to tell everyone, right then and there but . . . ours is the love that can never be spoken. It's so hard to hide my love for you from the others!"

Logan turned, relieved. He smiled. "I know what you mean. But at least you don't have to act like a macho asshole."

Beast nodded solemnly. "Speaking of which, wherever did you get the term "bub"?"

Logan moved away, almost shyly, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "Well . . . I was watching old mystery movies one day--you know the ones, with lines like "the dame walked in, all blond and red dress"? I was watching those, and the leading character kept saying "bub." And I thought, what a cute and charming word! So I've used it ever since."

"How delightful!" Beast said, beaming. "Oh, Logan!"

"Oh, Hank! Every time I see Scott and Jean display their love for each other, I want to be like that. I want to run in the tulips and frolic in the daisies with you!"

"Oh, Logan!" Beast said again, running and jumping into Wolverine's arms.

"Er, umph, heavy," came a muffled cry before both men fell over.

***

"You know, I really wish you would clip those nails of yours," Beast said softly, only he and Logan at the breakfast table the next morning.

"Yeah, well I keep wishing you would shave."

Hank sighed. "You never listen to me."

"Oh, darling, I'm sorry," Logan said, standing. "Come here."

Hank smiled and leapt into Logan's arms.

"Er, umph, heavy," came a croak before both landed on the tile floor.

"Um, what are you guys doing?" Jubilee asked, having just walked in the door. At a letter from the author she had come home, since it was good for the plot.

"Just . . . ah . . . trying to feed Wolverine his morning pill!" Hank said cheerfully. "I have to give it to him like a cat--you know, pry his jaw open and shove it down his throat."

Jubilee nodded and walked around them, looking back. "You aren't holding a pill," she said suspiciously.

"Oh! Dang! Must've forgotten it again," Hank said, snapping his fingers. "Well, better go back to the lab. Coming, Logan?" Hank got up off Wolverine, who stood and followed him docilely.

"Where are you two going?" Jean asked as she passed them in the hall.

"To my . . . uh . . . lab! Yes, that's it. Wolverine's helping me . . . uh . . . test human--or, rather, mutant--flexibility and endurance. . . . "

"Oh, well, have fun you two!" Jean chirped before walking into the kitchen.

"No worries!" Logan chuckled.

***

"I be here f'r my physical, mon ami," Gambit called, walking into the lab several hours later. He had forgotten that he was afraid of labs.

There was a scuffle as Wolverine grabbed something and hid it behind his back, smiling innocently. That swiftly changed to gruffly as he remembered he was a macho asshole.

"What's dat?" Gambit asked.

Hank wrenched it out of Logan's hands, handing it to Remy. "A poem I got from a secret admirer."

Gambit read through it quickly, then gave a bark of laughter. "Dis ain' very good," he said, grinning.

Wolverine bristled. "I'm sure that Hank's . . . secret admirer . . . worked very hard on that."

"'Y' eyes are as brown as de dirt,' is de first line, mon ami. An' it only gets worse from dere."

Wolverine crossed his arms over his chest and for just a moment, Remy could have sworn he was sulking. But of course, Logan didn't sulk.

His physical forgotten, Gambit left the room.

"How could you stand there and let him say that?" Logan sobbed. "You said you liked my poem!"

"Oh, darling," Beast started.

"You don't really love me! You love that floozy who threw herself all over you the other day! I--I never want to see you again!" And Logan ran from the room, weeping.

"But--but--" Hank would have gone after him, but just then Warren showed up. "Hi Beast! The author said I should come down and distract you. It'll be good for the plot, bad for your love life. What was she talking about?"

Hank sighed.

***

It was hours before that nasty ol' author let Beast go after Logan, at which point he had disappeared. Hank checked for his Harley, but it was still there. After a moment, he went and checked Logan's Secret Car. He had gotten it during the 60's, a giant Volkswagen van, and painted great big pink flowers all over it.

It was gone.

"Oh, dear," Hank sighed. "Whatever shall I do?"

***

After a long time during which they had many missions, somebody was introduced into the team for the purpose of being killed, that new person was killed to impress upon the readers how dangerous it was for new people to join the team, and the mansion was destroyed and re-built yet again, Logan returned.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Hank said softly as they met in their woods. It had been by a love-sick hunch that Beast had gone out that night.

"I considered staying away. I met a nice man. He treated me well. Bought me flowers and candy and really big grenades. Oh, Hank, I love you though!"

"Oh Logan!"

"Oh Hank!"

"Let's lay here, under the stars!" Hank said, smiling mushily. His knees had turned to water, and it was making it quite hard for him to stand.

They settled down together, and Hank flopped down on Logan.

"Er, umph, heavy," Logan grunted. "Hank, it's blazin' hot. I don't need a throw rug over me."

"YOU DO HATE ME!" Hank wailed, leaping up. "You still blame me for that woman! You'd rather go back to your MAN."

"Oh, no, darling, nothing like that!" Logan said, running after Hank through the trees. "I love you! I came back to you! Really! I like throw rugs!!"

Hank sniffed. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Logan!"

"Oh, Hank!"

And they lived happily ever after.

The End.

********************

Okay, so it was lame, but gimme a break. I've been awake since 1am! *laughs*

If you liked it, tell me!

Thank you, Maelie, for sending this for me. *G*

Oh, Mica? I will answer your challenge (Mica says I've never written a romance and she challenged me--the li'l twerp (j/k!)--to write one. With Wolvie). Really. I just had to get this out of my system first . . . so put down the pickax, okay? Yes, the flame thrower too. Okay, the Bunny Slippers aren't even funny. Give them back to 'Byss. Mica. Mica! Eep! Help!

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